Myra's breath hitched the moment she saw him.
Ranvijay.
Her eyes widened in shock, her heart hammering against her ribs. He wasn't supposed to see her like this.
She stood frozen in the sleek black dress Anika had chosen for her—a daring piece that clung to her frame like a second skin. One-sided shoulder, the fabric draping elegantly over her collarbone, leaving the other side bare. The back was held together by delicate crisscrossing strings, exposing smooth skin in between. It was nothing like the traditional outfits she always wore. It was bold. It was unfamiliar.
And from the way Ranvijay's gaze darkened, it was dangerous.
Then—he moved.
Panic shot through her. Without thinking, she turned on her heels, aiming for the bathroom. If she could just hide—
But Ranvijay was faster.
Before she could reach the door, his strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against his firm chest. A gasp left her lips as his grip tightened, firm but not harsh.
"Running away, princess?" His voice was low, teasing, but there was a dangerous edge to it.
"L-Let me go," she stammered, struggling lightly against his hold.
Ranvijay let out a deep chuckle, his breath brushing against the side of her neck. "And why would I do that?"
She tried to push at his hands, but he only pulled her closer, his fingers pressing into her waist, making her shiver.
"You knew I was home," he murmured, his lips dangerously close to her ear. "Yet you wore this."
"I-It was Anika's choice!" Myra protested. "I didn't—"
"Hmm," he hummed, clearly amused. "And yet, you look breathtaking."
Her cheeks burned. "You—"
Before she could finish, he spun her around, trapping her between him and the bathroom door. His dark eyes roamed over her, lingering on every inch of exposed skin. His fingers trailed along the delicate strings on her back, barely touching but still making her shiver.
Myra's breath came in short, shallow bursts. She had been in his arms before, but this felt different. The way he was looking at her—like he wanted to devour her—made her insides twist with something unfamiliar.
Ranvijay lifted a hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was gentle, in contrast to the possessive way he held her in place.
"You should wear things like this more often," he murmured, his thumb grazing her jawline.
Myra swallowed hard. "I won't."
A smirk played on his lips. "We'll see."
Her hands pressed against his chest, trying to create some distance. "Let me go, Ranvijay."
He leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers. "Make me."
Her heart slammed against her chest. Her fingers clenched the fabric of his shirt, unsure if she wanted to push him away or hold on.
He leaned in, his breath warm against her lips. "Tell me, Myra… if I kiss you right now, will you push me away?"
Her throat went dry.
Could she?
Would she?
Then—just when she thought he might actually kiss her—Ranvijay pulled back. A knowing smirk tugged at his lips.
"You're turning red, princess." His voice was full of amusement as he finally released her.
Myra immediately stepped away, her pulse racing. "You—! You're impossible."
He chuckled, watching her flustered state with open satisfaction. "And you're adorable when you're flustered."
Her eyes flashed with anger, and she lifted her chin. "Don't think you've won anything."
Ranvijay tilted his head, his smirk deepening. "Haven't I?"
She clenched her fists, glaring at him. "No, you haven't."
He stepped closer again, forcing her back against the door once more. "Then why does it feel like I have?"
Her breath faltered.
Before she could throw another protest, Ranvijay turned and walked away, leaving Myra standing there, breathless and utterly shaken.
Ranvijay strode out of the room, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists.
He needed to leave.
The moment he saw Myra in that dress, every ounce of control he had shattered. He had almost lost himself—the beast inside him, the one he kept buried deep, had stirred, demanding to claim what was his.
His footsteps were heavy as he walked through the empty corridor, breathing hard. His heart was still racing, his body still burning from the mere feel of her against him.
Damn it.
His fingers ran through his hair in frustration.
She didn't even realize what she did to him, how she pushed him to the edge with just a look, just a breath. And the worst part? She had no idea how much he was holding back.
Because if he ever let go…
A muscle in his jaw ticked. He couldn't—he wouldn't let her witness that side of him. The beast inside him that wanted to claim, to dominate, to make sure she belonged to no one but him.
He leaned against the cold marble pillar, exhaling sharply. He had been reckless. Holding her like that. Whispering those words. Teasing her when he was the one drowning in desire.
He could still see the way her lips parted in shock, the way her breath hitched, the way her skin shivered under his touch.
His fingers twitched.
It wasn't enough. He wanted more.
But not like this. Not with her looking at him like she feared him.
Ranvijay closed his eyes for a brief moment, forcing his pulse to slow, forcing the heat inside him to settle.
He had to be patient.
He had already forced her into this marriage. He wouldn't force her into his arms—not until she willingly walked into them.
Until then… he would keep the beast locked away.