The days following the moment in the council room felt like a strange blur of both clarity and confusion. Aarya couldn’t escape the feeling that something had shifted between her and Vikram. The kiss—the confession, the surrender—had changed everything. It had changed her. It had changed him. But neither of them was willing to speak the truth of what had transpired, not aloud. There were too many consequences, too many dangerous consequences.
Aarya knew the dangers better than anyone. Her duty to her kingdom, her people, and her family had always been her guiding principle. The moment she had agreed to the marriage, she had put aside every personal desire. Every personal feeling. She had taken the role of the warrior princess, fiercely guarding her kingdom’s honor, her father’s legacy, and the walls around her heart.
But those walls were beginning to crumble.
It was the night of a royal banquet, meant to celebrate a newly signed treaty between Mehrangarh and Jodhpur. The tension between the two kingdoms had been high for years, and the treaty was meant to ease the conflict over the desert’s precious resources. In front of her, she saw nobles from both families, smiling, laughing, exchanging words that were polite but filled with hidden barbs.
Aarya stood at the balcony overlooking the courtyard, her gaze distant, her thoughts far away. The sound of laughter from the banquet hall barely registered. It was hard to focus on anything other than the way Vikram’s eyes had held hers earlier that evening, how they had seemed to burn with an intensity that left her breathless. She knew he would be in the hall, mingling, exchanging pleasantries. But tonight, she didn’t feel like playing that game.
She turned to leave when she felt a presence behind her. Her pulse quickened.
“Aarya.”
The voice was familiar, and even though she had been expecting him, her heart still skipped a beat. She didn’t turn immediately. Instead, she let the moment stretch, drawing out the tension.
When she did turn, she was met with Vikram’s gaze—dark, intense, and full of an emotion that she had learned to read all too well. He was standing there, just a few feet away, his tall frame shadowed in the moonlight, his hands loosely clasped behind his back.
He didn’t say anything at first, but his eyes never left her, as though he could see straight through her armor, through her defenses. And it made Aarya feel vulnerable in a way she had never experienced before. His silence spoke volumes, and yet, it only seemed to deepen the storm swirling inside her.
“I thought I’d find you here,” Vikram said finally, breaking the silence, his voice a low murmur.
Aarya met his eyes, her jaw tightening slightly. “I needed a moment of peace,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of frustration, though she didn’t quite know where it came from. Peace? She hadn’t known peace since the moment their lips had met.
Vikram stepped forward, his gaze softening as he observed her. “You haven’t been at peace since we first met, Aarya. And I think we both know why.”
She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to hear the truth—his truth. But as he stepped closer, the undeniable pull between them tightened, wrapping around her chest like a noose she could neither escape nor cut away.
“Stop,” she said softly, though it lacked the conviction she intended. “This is madness, Vikram. We can’t—this can’t happen. We are bound by duty. Our kingdoms… our families…”
He shook his head slowly, his expression almost pained. “Stop pretending, Aarya. Stop pretending that you don’t feel this, that this is nothing more than political necessity. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you react to me. You can’t hide from it.”
Her throat tightened, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. Her thoughts scrambled, her breath shallow as his presence seemed to invade every part of her. It had always been so clear, so simple before. He was the enemy. She was the protector of her kingdom. There was nothing between them. But now, standing in front of him, with the desert night air surrounding them, she realized how far she had fallen.
“You’re right,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them. “I do feel it. I feel everything—anger, desire, hatred, longing… and it’s killing me.”
Vikram’s eyes darkened, his expression fierce as he took another step forward. His voice dropped to a hushed whisper, thick with desire. “Then why are you still fighting it, Aarya?”
She swallowed hard, her gaze flickering over his face, tracing the line of his jaw, the way the dim light played over his sharp features. The battle inside her had raged for so long, but now, with him so close, it seemed as if the battle was already over. She had already lost.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a breath. “Maybe because I’m afraid of what will happen if I give in. Afraid of you.”
“Afraid of me?” His voice was a low laugh, but there was no humor in it. His eyes softened for just a moment, and he reached out, his fingers brushing the side of her arm, his touch a quiet promise. “You don’t have to be afraid, Aarya. I’m not your enemy.”
Her chest tightened at the heat of his touch, at the softness in his voice. She wanted to pull away, to stop herself, but her body betrayed her. She stepped forward, closing the gap between them. The heat between them was undeniable. Her fingers brushed his chest, feeling the strength beneath his tunic. And before she knew it, she was in his arms again.
Vikram’s lips captured hers in a kiss that was gentle at first, almost tentative, as if he was waiting for her to pull away. But she didn’t. She kissed him back, her body responding to his touch with a hunger that she couldn’t suppress any longer.
The kiss deepened, their bodies pressing closer as the world outside the garden seemed to vanish. There was nothing but them, nothing but the storm that raged between them—fueled by desire, by passion, by the unspoken truth that neither could deny anymore.
Aarya’s hands slid up to his shoulders, her fingers gripping him tightly as if afraid he might slip away. Vikram’s hands were on her back now, pulling her against him, his lips never leaving hers. Her heart pounded in her chest, her body shivering from the intensity of the kiss, from the way his hands traced the curve of her spine.
Her mind was a haze of emotion, of raw, unbridled need. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. But in the heat of his kiss, in the rhythm of their bodies moving together, Aarya knew that she couldn’t walk away now. She didn’t want to.
When they finally broke apart, gasping for air, Aarya’s body trembled, and she couldn’t find the strength to pull away. Vikram’s forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling, their hearts racing.
“I don’t know what this is,” Aarya murmured, her voice trembling. “But I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.”
Vikram’s hand cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek with a tenderness that took her by surprise. “Neither do I,” he whispered back, his voice raw, full of longing. “But we can’t keep pretending that this doesn’t matter.”
Aarya closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. She didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, or the day after. But in this moment, with him, in the warmth of the desert night, she was willing to surrender to the storm that had already begun.
