Veeresh entered Poornima’s room with his usual commanding presence, only to overhear her father speaking.

“Marrying someone not of royal blood…” Rivaj Singh Mewar began.

Veeresh’s sharp gaze cut through the air. “Poornima is my wife. Don’t you dare talk about her like that.”

Poornima, standing nearby, froze. The words pierced her, and suddenly her chest tightened. Her vision blurred. She felt her heart race uncontrollably. Panic seized her.

“Poornima!” Veeresh shouted, rushing to her side. “Breathe in… and out. Slowly.”

“I… I’m not able to,” she gasped, clutching her chest.

Without hesitation, Veeresh leaned close and kissed her deeply, passionately. The heat, the intensity, and the unexpected intimacy sent a wave through her body. Her racing heartbeat began to slow. Her breaths, ragged moments ago, started to even out.

Veeresh gently pulled back and handed her a glass of water. She took it shakily, her voice trembling. “Cancel the wedding,” she whispered.

Veeresh’s gaze was unwavering. “My mother has already given you her bangles. She has accepted you as my wife and daughter-in-law. Nothing will change that, Poornima.”

“But I… I don’t want to marry you!” she said, tears threatening to fall.

Veeresh’s hand reached up, pulling her chin so she had to look at him. “You will wear my name, my sindur, and my mangalsutra. Be ready.”

Before she could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and heat in his wake.

Later, as he spoke with the maid, Veeresh’s voice softened slightly, though his eyes remained sharp.

“Take care of her,” he instructed.

The maid hesitated. “Sir… she has panic attacks whenever anyone mentions her being abandoned or not belonging to the family.”

Veeresh’s jaw tightened. “I know. I will take care of her—until she comes to my palace. Make sure she’s safe. Do not let anyone hurt her again.”