"Untie your lehenga," he said. "Huh?" I blinked, pretending I hadn't heard. Or maybe hoping I hadn't. "I said..." His gaze slid over me, heavier than touch, "untie the string of your lehenga." "And?" I asked, trying to match his tone. I hated how breathless I sounded. "And..." He whispered, "Insert your fingers down there. Then lick it slowly. Show me if your little jungle medicine works. Maybe I'll join you later." My hands froze. What? My eyes snapped to his. He was watching me-like a hawk that had already stripped away every feather I'd used to hide. He knows. He knows. 𝗛𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝘀. ❖ She was never meant to be his bride. 𝗦𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗮 𝗥𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗲 was the jewel of Rajgarh - a woman born of fire, trained in every royal art, even the forgotten ones whispered in hushed tones by dancing courtesans. He was meant to destroy her. 𝗥𝘂𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗵 𝗦𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗵 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗵, the ruthless crown prince of Devgarh, didn't want love. He wanted vengeance. She was the sister of the man who broke his own sister's heart. And so he took her. As a bride. As a weapon. As a wound. But what he didn't see coming... was the ache she awakened in him. The way her silence burned deeper than screams. The way her defiance tasted of poison and honey. Now the war is no longer on the battlefield. What happens when the enemy begins to crave her? This isn't a love story. It's a slow-burning fire. And a marriage soaked in secrets, storms, and stolen breaths. "She will break... the day I stop touching her with hate." And when he finally touches her with something else- Will she still be his enemy?