The hall had gone silent.

Whispers faded into stunned awe as Veeresh Rathore walked toward the mandap with Poornima beside him.

No one dared question him. His presence was too commanding, his decision too absolute.

Poornima’s heart raced as she sat on the sacred wooden seat, the glow of the fire reflecting on her hesitant face. Veeresh’s expression remained unreadable — but his eyes never left her.

The priest chanted mantras, the conch shells blew, and flowers rained from trembling hands of relatives.

First came the garland exchange.

Poornima lifted the jasmine mala with shaking fingers, her eyes darting nervously. Veeresh lowered his head just enough, allowing her to slip it over him. Then, without hesitation, he raised his garland and placed it firmly around her neck, his gaze steady, almost claiming her before everyone.

They bent forward to wash their parents’ feet. Her parents’ eyes glistened with pride and disbelief; his parents blessed her as if she had always been theirs.

Then came the moment that froze Poornima’s breath.

Veeresh picked up the thali. The gold chain gleamed in the firelight. His fingers brushed her skin as he tied the mangalsutra around her neck. Poornima closed her eyes, a strange warmth flooding her chest, though her face stayed calm.

A second later, Veeresh dipped his thumb in vermilion and leaned forward. With a single, unflinching stroke, he marked her parting with sindur.

Her heart thundered. The weight of it — his name, his claim — pressed deep into her soul.

The priest signaled the saat phere. Together, they circled the sacred fire seven times, their steps bound by destiny. With each round, Poornima felt the invisible threads of friendship turning into unbreakable vows.

When Veeresh slipped the toe rings on her feet, a shiver ran through her. His touch lingered a second longer than necessary, possessive, sealing the bond in his own way.

At last, they bent for blessings. Elders placed hands on their heads, blessing them with long life and togetherness.

Poornima smiled softly, hiding the storm in her heart. Something inside her shifted that day — something she couldn’t name yet.

Veeresh, however, already knew.

His smirk returned, subtle, dangerous, as he looked at his new bride.

She was his.

Completely.