"No-please-don't do this!" Seraphina sobbed, her voice cracking as she clung to her eldest brother's wrist. "I-I'll be good. I'll do whatever you say, just don't-" A sharp crack echoed through the room as his palm struck her cheek, sending her crashing to the marble floor. Pain exploded across her skin, but it was nothing compared to the terror clawing at her chest. From above, his voice was cold. Unmoved. "You will marry him." She shook her head wildly, crawling backward until her spine hit the wall. "He's a monster," she whispered, her breath shuddering. "He's not human. Please, don't make me do this. I'll die." Her second brother crouched in front of her, grabbing her chin roughly, forcing her to look at him. His lips curled, eyes void of warmth. "Then die." Her breath hitched. "But you will die as his wife." The door behind them creaked open. Heavy footsteps. Her father stepped inside, his expression unreadable. "Lock her in this room," he ordered. "She will not step out until her wedding day." Sera thrashed as hands seized her, dragging her toward the massive iron doors. "No! Please-Father, please!" But he didn't even look at her. The last thing she saw before the door slammed shut was her brothers standing side by side, indifferent as she was thrown into a fate worse than death. Then darkness. And the only thing left was the suffocating truth. She was a sacrifice. A bride to the Sinister, a devil himself. #A STANDALONE BOOK

𝐙𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐫 × 𝐃𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐯𝐢 | 𝟑𝟏 × 𝟐3 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬: #𝟏 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥 She saw him more than once. And every time, her heart betrayed her; racing, stumbling, fluttering like a caged butterfly chasing a memory. Her breath shortened, her chest tightened, and still, she said nothing. Because it wasn't her place. Because she was never meant to be seen. Until she was. Until the day she stood before him, not as a stranger in the crowd, but as his bride. The wrong bride. He had seen her before. Once in passing, her eyes barely a flicker in his peripheral vision, dismissed for a prettier pair. The second time, he saw her through a vow sealed in blood and duty. And rage erupted. Exacting. Demanding. She wasn't supposed to wear that dress. She wasn't supposed to carry his name. But now that she does... There's no turning back.

[PARTITION ROMANCE] 18+ She is a mute. He is a politician. And 1947 is burning around them. After surviving a brutal assault and losing her only family, Vrishty, a voiceless Hindu girl, is left alone in a town tearing itself apart. Hunted by the man who first claimed her, she hides in silence, until Meer, an emerging Muslim politician, becomes the only barrier between her and the chaos outside. Bound by guilt and an unexpected pull, Meer begins to realise his vicinity with the girl. But the nation which divided amongst the communal hate, will it be able to save these burning interfaith hearts, alive? __________________________ "In Islam" he continued quietly. "You cannot marry unless both agree... and unless both are Muslim" His expression twisted, a deep aching conflict. I shook my head, looking at him. As if almost pleading him. Noo...please....