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"Moon, look at me," he said, lifting her chin with his index finger.
"D-Door... door raho," she whispered, her lips trembling. Yet, despite everything, his touch carried that same familiar warmth from before.
"We just had our nikah, Moon. You can't deny this. You can't deny me," he murmured, brushing his knuckles down her cheek.
The realization hit her like a tidal wave. I am his wife.
Suddenly, the red lehenga she was wearing felt suffocating. Her breath caught against the heavy nath around her nose. His cruel words echoed in her ears-the way he had forced her to get ready with his helpers, threatening her parents' lives, telling her, "Hamara yaha nikah sirf nath ke saath hota hai, Moon. No other jewellery."
Now, his face was inches away, his warm breath fanning over her lips. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
His gaze fell on her nath, burning with dark possession. "As I was the one to wear it to you... I'll be the one taking it off," he rasped.
His honey-brown eyes bore into her skin before he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear.
"Begum," he whispered, sending a sharp shiver straight down her spine.