UNTAMED: A ROYAL MARRIAGE

Zara barely finished laughing at Adarsh's stupid joke when the air shifted.
Heavy. Dark. Dangerous.
Vikram was standing behind them.
Silent.
Still.
Watching her like she had personally committed a crime.
Adarsh felt it first-his smile vanished and he stepped back.
Zara didn't move.
"Your Majesty-" Adarsh began.
"Leave."
Vikram didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
Adarsh practically ran.
The moment the man disappeared, Vikram's hand was already on Zara's waist-hot, furious, claiming. He didn't drag her; he took her, guiding her backward into his private office, shutting the door with a sharp, echoing slam.
"Are you out of your mind?!" Zara snapped.
Vikram didn't answer.
"You let him touch you," he growled, low enough that she felt the vibration in her chest.
"He brushed my arm," she shot back, "calm the hell dow-"
His hand slammed onto the desk beside her hip, making her jump.
"You think I'm calm?"
Her breath hitched.
Smirked against her cheek.
"Vikram... let go."
"I will," he whispered, lips grazing her jaw, "the moment you stop tempting me."
His hand slid to her throat-not choking, just holding, possessive, thumb brushing her pulse.
"You were smiling at him," he continued, voice raspier now, darker. "Laughing. Touching him."
"It was NOTHING," she whispered.
"I decide what is nothing."
His lips trailed down her neck, slow, deliberate, burning.
"And that... was not nothing."
"This marriage isn't real," she breathed.
His mouth paused at her collarbone.
Then he lifted his head-eyes black with restraint.
"Say that again," he murmured, "and I swear I will kiss you until the word 'real' is the only thing you remember."
Her stomach flipped.
He leaned in even closer
"Zara," he whispered
"don't smile at other men. Don't touch them. Don't even look at them that way."
"And if I do?" she challenged softly.
His grip tightened on her waist.
"Then I'll put you exactly where you are now," he breathed, lips hovering over hers, "and remind you who you married."