The Biker and The Princess

She turned sharply, heart leaping into panic, and there he was. A stranger. A man inside her chamber.

Her lips parted, the scream already rising, but before a sound could escape, he moved.

Rudra's arm slipped firmly around her waist, pulling her close. His other hand pressed against her lips in one swift motion. The cold touch of his palm silenced her instantly, her eyes going wide with shock.

Her body stiffened, struggling against his iron grip. Her bangles clinked, her silks rustled as she tried to wriggle free, but his hold didn't loosen.

"Shhh..." he whispered, his voice low, rough, and steady-more command than plea.

Amaira's heart hammered against her chest, her gaze lifting to his face. His eyes-stormy, burning-locked with hers. And in that raw intensity, her fear mixed with something she couldn't name.

Tears welled in her lashes, spilling slightly as she shook her head, silently begging him to let go.

Rudra's jaw tightened, but his eyes softened for the briefest second as he whispered again, this time almost gentle-
"Chillao mat..." (Don't shout...)

The princess stood trapped in the arms of a stranger, her world shaking for the first time.

And yet... something deep inside her stilled, caught in those unfamiliar eyes that refused to let her go.

Rudra's voice was low, threaded with a rough honesty that made her heart pound harder.
"Maanna padega... sach mein khoobsurat ho tum. Isi liye log tumhe dekhne ko taraste hain." (I have to admit... you're truly beautiful. That's why people yearn to see you.)

Amaira's eyes widened further. No one-no man-had ever dared come this close to her. Not her father, who treated her like an heir more than a daughter. Not her brother, who barely spoke. Not the men who came for rishtas, who only saw her from a distance like some untouchable jewel.

But this stranger? He was inches away, his breath grazing her skin, his gaze piercing right into her soul.