Kiara
She didn't wake up because of the warm weight of his hand on her bare waist.
She was already awake—had been for several minutes, heart fluttering like a caged bird while she pretended to sleep, her breathing carefully even. She had felt Reyansh stir beside her, his movements slow, controlled, like a man trying not to give in.
She waited.
When his hand finally landed, fingers unconsciously brushing the soft skin at her waist beneath the silk of her night saree, a wave of electricity surged through her. Excitement tangled with nerves, making her body hyper-aware of his presence. This touch—so casual yet intimate—felt like fire trailing along her skin.
She turned slightly, whispering, "Good morning…"
Her voice was gentle, uncertain. He made no move to pull away.
She slipped out of bed before temptation could overwhelm either of them. Her heart was racing, but she focused on her morning routine. Today wasn't just another day. It was the first morning of her marriage.
And even if it wasn't hers to begin with—if it was Arina's—she had claimed it now.
The bathroom mirror reflected her determination.
She chose a rich red silk saree from the wardrobe. Her fingers trembled only slightly as she draped it around herself. Today, she would not be the quiet shadow Arina had once been. Today, she would be the wife Reyansh wouldn't be able to look away from.
She adorned herself with care—gold bangles chiming softly as she moved, the thin gold chain resting above the sacred mangalsutra. She parted her hair and filled it with vermillion, the red bold and sharp against her skin. A small red bindi completed the look.
She stood in front of the mirror, her reflection that of a newlywed—soft, adorned, and glowing.
But beneath the bridal red, her thoughts were anything but innocent.
This is mine now. He is mine now.
She had never believed in miracles, never been one to lean into fantasies. And yet, here she was—in the body of Arina, in the bedroom of Reyansh, with the chance to live the life she'd read about so many times.She was not curious to know "why" and "how" she transmigrated inthe novel,in arina body. She wasn't about to waste it....this chance.
She would become everything he desired.
And then… she would become everything he couldn't resist.
While her thoughts dipped into that dark, intoxicating spiral, she didn't hear Reyansh approach. Not until his quiet footsteps brought him behind her—so close she could feel his breath.
He was wearing a simple cotton kurta and pajama, the kind of homewear that made him look almost too effortlessly masculine. His hair was tousled from sleep, and yet his gaze in the mirror was sharp, unwavering.
"You look…" he said softly, voice husky, "…like something sent to test my control."
Her breath hitched.
She stood up slowly to face him. Up close, his eyes were darker, more intense than she'd ever imagined. She could see the slight twitch of his jaw as he fought whatever thoughts were behind them.
"Then maybe…" she whispered, looking up at him, "…you should stop controlling so much."
He didn't respond at first. But his gaze didn't leave her.
After a long pause, he stepped aside and said, "I didn't think you'd dress up today."
She smiled. "Why not? You're my husband. Doesn't a bride dress up for her groom?"
His eyes narrowed, not in anger—but in curiosity. Like he was trying to figure her out. This wasn't the woman he thought he'd married. She was bolder, her voice sweeter but laced with something he couldn't yet name.
"Let me make us some tea," she offered before he could question further.
As she walked toward the kitchen, he watched her every movement. There was something new in her walk—confidence. Invitation. And something beneath it all that pulled at him like a magnet.
He didn't understand it yet.
But he didn't want to look away.
"Draped in red and secrets, she stepped into the role of a bride — not to belong, but to possess."