His gaze locked into mine, intense, unwavering. "I need a verbal answer, little rose." I could hardly find my voice, but it escaped in a trembling whisper, "Y-yes... Abhii." In the next breath, he pulled my flush against him, his hand gripping the back of my neck. His lips found mine, gentle only for the first second before deepening. His kiss was commanding, urgent-sucking on my lips as if he'd never let me go. I tried to match him, to kiss him back, but his force, his hunger was overwhelming. All I could do was yield, surrender, let him take control. Wounded King is connected to the world of Shattered Silk, but it is a complete story on its own and can be read without reading the first book. Abhishek Rana never wanted a wife - only a name to offer someone with no one left. When he finds Naina, orphaned and alone, marrying her feels like fulfilling a duty... nothing more. "Not a single chapter wasted-every page pulls you deeper into a slow-burn that won't let you go." A slow-burn, age-gap romance between two broken souls forced into an unwanted marriage - and a love neither of them saw coming.

Unlike Harshavardhan and Aaradhya from Unspoken Love, this couple stepped into marriage willingly-or so they believed. Aanaya was nothing like Aaradhya. She was fire wrapped in flesh: brave, outspoken, emotional, stubborn, confident, and unafraid to raise her voice for what she believed in. And Arvind... he was every bit the opposite. Cold, ruthless, intimidatingly silent, with a sharp wit and a teasing glint in his eyes that appeared only when he chose. On the surface, their marriage seemed like a union of two strong-willed souls. But beneath it lay a truth-an arrangement-one she never asked for, never wanted, and certainly never imagined would define her life. A truth that, once revealed, would change everything. Now, she is trapped in a bond she can't walk away from. And he is tied to a promise he can't break. What happens when the truth finally reaches her? Will she fall for the very man whose nature she once feared? Will he let her in-or let her go? And will love bloom between two hearts bound by secrets? Step into the story of Aanaya, a fierce 24-year-old woman, and Arvind, a 29-year-old man shaped by silence, duty, and shadows. A journey of truth, heartbreak, longing, and an unexpected love neither of them saw coming.

This story is set in late 1980s- early 1990s in rural area. The marriage is formed due to unseen circumstances when the bride's groom didn't arrive and for justice, a man was commanded to marry her. The woman has heard the truth of other marriages but still dreams of a good husband and the man is calm person who is obedient son but nothing really mattered to him. How will their marriage go? This is a prequel to Mera Rangsaaz (Veer's story) and can be read as standalone. Update: Every Tuesday and Friday ☆Warning :This story contains mature themes. It is completely fictional and based upon my imagination. I do not promote anything written inside it, it's just for the sake of entertainment. Readers discretion is advised.

"You didn't eat again," he said quietly. She didn't turn. Didn't even flinch. "Maira," he spoke again, softer this time, taking a step closer. "I brought dinner. Atleast have a few bites." Her voice came out barely above a whisper, low, trembling. "Why? So I can stay strong enough to keep pretending?" The words hit him hard, knocking the breath out of him. "You're not pretending," Hadi said quickly, defensively, though he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, himself or her. She turned slowly, eyes red and hollow. "Aren't I?" she asked, voice trembling. "I sleep in this room like a stranger. Even though I'm your wife. I exist in your world, Hadi... but can I ever exist in your heart?" "Maira," he began, this was the first time she had openly claimed her title as his wife and he didn't know how to respond, but he said with his tone heavy, "you know everything. I... I married you because I..." "...felt guilty," she finished for him, her voice sharp, cutting through the air. "You hit me with your car. My life shattered. And you had to save me to get rid of your guilt." He froze. Words deserted him. Her eyes dropped to the floor, tears gathering along her lashes. "At least Lubna has your love. Your son has your name. Me? What do I have?" --- 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐀𝐥𝐢. 24. No identity beyond that. No one to call hers. No place she could truly belong. Except in one nikahnama... where her name sat beside his. 𝐋𝐮𝐛𝐧𝐚 𝐀𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐢. 28. A talented interior designer. Graceful, and passionate about her work. Hadi's first love, and the woman the world recognizes as his wife. 𝐇𝐚𝐝𝐢 𝐀𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐢. 30. Successful. Respected. A loving husband. A devoted father. A man who did the right thing, even when his heart wasn't in it, and married a woman out of guilt... not love.

She had not married him for love. Nor had it been a marriage born of tradition, arrangement, or even choice. When Navya Sharma, a naïve young woman of barely twenty-two, stood before the world as the wife of Advait Rathore, she stepped into a bond that was nothing less than a transaction. For him, it was profit-a move calculated, cold, and beneficial to his empire. For her, it was destiny's cruelest twist. Advait Rathore-twenty-eight years old, sharp-minded, ruthless, and carrying the weight of maturity and sin in equal measure-was no ordinary man. He was a king of shadows, a ruler of the underworld. And Navya? She was a lamb led into a lion's den, handed to him under the guise of a marriage that was never meant to bloom. All she had ever wished for was a husband she could call hers-a man who belonged to her alone. But destiny, merciless as ever, bound her to a man whose heart had already been claimed. His first wife was still alive. And worse-he loved her. For Navya, the truth was more bitter than betrayal. She was not a beloved wife; she was a replacement. A second choice. Perhaps even nothing more than a vessel-brought into his life to give him heirs, to strengthen his lineage, to serve a purpose. Yet beneath her quiet demeanor stirred a storm. Perhaps she was destined to be nothing more than a surrogate for his children... or perhaps fate had far greater designs. Because sometimes, in a world of power, blood, and betrayal, the one who enters quietly, unnoticed, can end up stealing the most precious thing a man possesses-his very soul.