ADHVAY'S POV

She didn’t look at me even once the whole day. Normally, she’s so careful with her emotions, never letting anyone know what she’s feeling, but today was different—her irritation showed on her face, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. I wondered if she was jealous, maybe even hurt.

It was strange, because she only answered me with cold, short replies. Those small glances  used to be  there,  were completely gone. We visited my company today, I noticed everyone’s attention was on her, and it made my  insides burn . I don’t care if people meant it well or not; I just hated that she stood out in their eyes. The urge to yank her to me , and kiss the hell out of her right there in front of everyone was almost uncontrollable. I wanted the world to see that she is mine.

Later, when the day ended and I tried to check on her in the middle of the night, everything was locked down—door shut, windows closed tight. It felt like she knew I was watching and closed herself off even more. I couldn’t sleep; I kept thinking about her, the need to see her growing worse by the hour. It was torture, realizing I couldn’t relax or rest unless I was near her. It scared me how much I depended on her presence—how much I wanted her, needed her, even if she barely cared that I exist.

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Sunlight creeps lazily through the curtains, but I can feel her presence even before I see her. I know she’s awake; I can sense it.

When I step out of my room, there she is—standing outside like a silent sentinel, her eyes fixed on the door as if daring anyone to come close. She’s supposed to guard me, but today, I realize, she’s guarding herself from what she might feel if she truly looked at me.

She’s the woman I want to share my life with, the woman I crave to hold close and make mine.  Every second I see her, my heart pounds harder, my mind racing. I want to  claim her completely—remind her she belongs to me.

But I’m terrified. Terrified of what she might say or do if I confess how deeply I burn for her, how helpless I am without her.

Does she ever burn with the same fire inside her? Does her blood boil with jealousy or longing like mine? Or am I just a prisoner of my obsession, damned to crave her even when it tears me apart?

“Have you taken your medication last night?” I ask her slowly, trying to keep my voice calm

"Yes, Adhvay",.She looks anywhere but at me, her eyes deliberately avoiding mine.

“Looking at me when you talk is highly recommended, little storm,” I say, my voice darkening with frustration .She tilts her head just enough to hold my eyes—enough for me to survive the moment. I take a deep breath, gathering every ounce of strength I have to face her presence.

All the weight of my royal position is on one side,  but Resisting Myra—who stands between me and my own heart—is the hardest fight of all.

She’s supposed to protect me from physical harm, but she’s the one who tortures me.

We stepped into the grand hall, and a loud, familiar voice cut through the air.

."Anna!"( Brother), the voice rang out as Sreehan came running toward us, suitcase in hand, his energy barely contained.

Sreehan—the boy who lost his father trying to protect my mother. His own mother died giving birth to him. Abandoned by everyone at a young age, he was taken in by my father and grew up with me. Now studying in the UK, he’d always had that unpredictable, bratty behaviour that seemed to grow stronger with time.

Sreehan had never been the prince, but in many ways, the battles he fought defined more than a prince.

Before I could react, he ran to me, hugging me fiercely, nearly making me stumble back a few steps. I caught Myra’s sharp gaze and gave her a quick nod, silently confirming he was family.

Her expression softened and she nodded in return.“Sreehan, when did you come? And why didn’t you inform me?” I asked, smiling genuinely.

“I don’t need your permission, bro. How could I miss your birthday?” His grin widened—open and raw, emotions barely contained, the boy still very much an open book.

Oh, my birthday! It’s tomorrow—I almost forgot. I’ve been too busy fighting myself, pulled out of a trance by Myra’s presence to even think about it.

I smiled, happy to see him after a year. His playful grin shifted as his eyes drifted to Myra.

“Woah, who’s she?” he asked, curious eyes roaming from head to toe.

“This is Myra, my personal bodyguard.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue. I was supposed to say “my queen.”

“What? When did this happen?” His gaze scanned her making  my mind unsettled.

“A lot changed in a year. Go freshen up in your room,” I said, tugging his shoulder bag gently as he moved toward her.

“Myra? Hi, I’m Sreehan.” He extended a hand, hopeful and she took it—a surprising gesture from someone who usually avoids contact.

“Hi,” she said evenly, no smile but this is very rare.

“Myra, wow, that’s a beautiful name. And your eyes… mesmerizing,” Sreehan added with a smirk, his playful charm kicking in.

And then she smiled. She fucking smiled at him. What the fuck? She likes compliments?. If I’d known, I’d have built a temple to her eyes alone _ages ago.

The smirk on Sreehan’s face widened as Myra smiled at him.

He is your brother, don’t hit him.

He is your brother, don’t hit him.

He is your brother, don’t hit him.

I murmured the words silently in my mind, a desperate mantra to hold myself back because all I wanted was to grab the big vase beside me and throw it at him.

The sight of them—their easy exchange, that teasing smile—the way Myra’s rare warmth bent toward him—felt like a betrayal to me.

Sreehan didn’t just invade my space; he was invading something I barely dared to admit —her attention, her smile, that reserved only for me.

My blood boiled with a fierce, untamed jealousy, and I fought to keep the storm inside from exploding. Because we were brothers, yes. But she is my queen . And if I had to battle him for it, i definitely will.

They shook hands for only five seconds, but to me, it stretched into an eternity—slow motion taking over everything.

I didn’t hesitate. I broke their handshake, shoving Sreehan sharply to the other side.“Don’t get close to her,” I warned, voice low but deadly serious. “She will kill you".

And if she won’t... I will. I murmured the threat under my breath, barely containing my rage.

Sreehan chuckled, clearly unfazed. “No, bro, don’t say that. How can a beautiful woman like her kill anyone?".

Myra’s lips curled into a smirk, and worse—she was looking at him, not me. The thought alone flipped my intestines, blasted my mind, and smashed my heart.

“Okay, that’s enough. Go to your room now, Sreehan,” I warned him sharply with my eyes.

.“Relax, angry bird. I’m just a kid. You can’t threaten a kid ,in UK It’s a punishable offense.” Finally, he looked at me, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Myra’s lips curled tightly, forming a controlled smirk as she lowered her head, almost as if she was suppressing a laugh.

I am going to lose it.

"Well, you are now in India and that too here, and you know no one would even say a word", my voice got deeper, dangerous.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go to my room,” Sreehan said, giving Myra a quick glance.  “Myra, we’ll catch up later,” he added with a sly smile.  She nodded  in response.

.What?

Their interaction was driving me fucking insane. Sreehan left and she composed her body again.

My gaze dripped with daggers, fixed on her. Every muscle in my body clenched with a urge—an overwhelming impulse to pin her against the nearest wall, to feel her skin beneath my mouth, to mark her as mine.

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