The wedding day arrived like a heavy gust of wind, swirling around me, pulling me into its center before I could catch my breath. My days had been less empty since Myra and Rohan came. Their constant chatter and comforting presence filled the silence that had once been deafening, but nothing could drown out the echo of Avyaan's words from that night. No matter how much I tried to bury it, his confession still lingered, wrapping around my thoughts like a cold, suffocating shadow.

I stood in front of the full-length mirror, barely recognizing myself. The reflection staring back at me was that of a bride, dressed in the most exquisite red lehenga I had ever seen. 

The rich fabric shimmered under the soft light, delicate golden embroidery weaving intricate patterns across the fabric. It clung to my body in all the right places, flowing down in soft, graceful waves around me, the heavy skirt brushing the floor with every movement. The blouse was equally luxurious, adorned with ornate gold detailing that matched the intricate choker resting around my neck.

It was clear that no expense had been spared. The lehenga was handcrafted, each stitch placed with care, each jewel sparkling with precision. Avyaan had personally overseen its creation. Every detail, down to the smallest thread, was chosen by him. It wasn't just a wedding outfit—it was a declaration. A statement that I was his.

I shivered at the thought, my mind racing back to the nights leading up to this day. Every night, I would lie in bed, trying to make sense of my feelings, trying to ignore the way my body would tense up when I felt his eyes on me. 

Avyaan never said a word, but I could feel his gaze on me, always watching. He never slept in the bed beside me, but he sat on the couch in the corner of the room, silently observing, as if making sure I wouldn't disappear. 

It was like he was guarding me, but from what? From whom? Or maybe it wasn't protection at all. Maybe it was possession.

Myra walked in just as I was lost in my thoughts, her eyes widening when she saw me. "Anya, My girl you look so beautiful," Her voice was soft, almost reverent, as she approached me, taking my hands in hers. "This lehenga... it's like something out of a fairy tale." 

A fairy tale. Was that what everyone thought this was? A perfect wedding in a grand palace, with a groom who would go to any lengths for his bride. But this wasn't a fairy tale. This was something darker, more complicated, more dangerous.

I glanced out the window, my eyes falling on the sprawling palace grounds. 

The entire place had been transformed for the wedding, draped in white and gold, the flowers cascading from the grand pillars like waterfalls of color. The palace itself was a vision of opulence—tall, majestic, and glowing with thousands of twinkling lights that made the entire place feel like a dream. But to me, it felt more like a gilded cage. 

Beautiful, but still a prison.

"Tanya?" Myra's voice pulled me back. She must have sensed my hesitation because her eyes softened with concern. "Are you okay?" 

I forced a smile." I'm fine. Just... it's a lot." 

She nodded, misunderstanding my meaning. "It's normal to be nervous. But trust me, everything will be perfect. You're marrying a man who clearly adores you." 

She paused, her smile widening.

"I mean, look at everything he's done for you. It's like something out of a movie."

I looked away, not trusting myself to respond. She didn't know. She didn't know that the man she thought adored me was obsessed, that his love wasn't the kind of love that made you feel safe. It was the kind that made you feel trapped.

I tried to focus on the moment, on the wedding, on the day itself. The palace was truly magnificent, the decor no less than royal. 

Everything was draped in lush fabrics, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of jasmine and rose petals. Golden chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, their soft light casting a warm, ethereal glow over the entire hall. The guests—dressed in the finest silks and jewels—moved like waves through the grand ballroom, their laughter and conversations blending with the soft music that played in the background.

It was beautiful. Everything was beautiful. But it didn't feel real. I felt like I was floating through the day, like an outsider looking in, watching someone else's life unfold.

Avyaan hadn't said a word to me all morning. He had come by briefly, his eyes lingering on me as I stood in my bridal attire. I could feel the weight of his gaze, could see the approval in his eyes as he took in every detail of the outfit he had chosen for me. But he didn't say anything. 

He didn't have to. His silence spoke louder than any words.

As the time drew closer, the room grew quieter. The ceremony was about to begin, and soon, I would be walking down the aisle to a man who claimed he would kill for me. 

A man who had already destroyed everything in his path to make sure I was his. Myra and Rohan didn't know the truth, and part of me didn't want them to. They still saw this as a fairy tale. They didn't see the darkness lurking just beneath the surface.

I looked at my reflection one last time, trying to make sense of everything. How did I get here? How did things go so wrong? And more importantly, what was I going to do now?

My heart raced as I stepped out of the room, the heavy lehenga weighing me down, both physically and emotionally. The corridors of the palace were filled with guests, each one smiling, each one congratulating me. But their words felt hollow. They didn't know what I was really walking into.

As I neared the grand entrance, the soft strains of wedding music began to fill the air. My hands trembled, the mehendi designs dark and rich against my skin. The intricate patterns on my hands felt like chains, each swirl and curve a reminder of the bond I was about to solidify.

I stopped just before the grand doors, taking a deep breath. In a few moments, I would be walking down the aisle, marrying Avyaan. The man who said he loved me but whose love felt more like a cage.

And yet, despite everything, part of me couldn't deny the pull I felt toward him. Maybe it was his intensity, maybe it was the way he made me feel like the center of his universe, even if it was terrifying. Or maybe it was the fact that, for better or worse, I knew I couldn't escape him. Not now. Not ever.

The doors opened, and I stepped forward, my heart pounding in my chest.

This was it. There was no turning back now.

As I took the first step down the aisle, I felt the weight of my own decisions pressing down on me. The palace was filled with the kind of beauty and grandeur that should have left me breathless, but all I could feel was an eerie calm. 

My heart wasn't racing anymore. The past felt distant now—no longer a chain that bound me, no longer a constant source of pain. There was no past to return to, no place to run back to. Everything that had once defined me, once broken me, was behind me.

With each step forward, I accepted that there was only this moment, only this bond that was going to be formed today. 

I had spent weeks trying to understand why Avyaan had done everything he did. Why he took responsibility for me, protected me, and confessed his obsession that made me feel trapped and exposed. 

But now, as I walked toward him, none of it seemed to matter. I wasn't promising myself love, not like before. Once, when I had given my heart fully, it almost killed me. Love had been a beautiful lie, and I wasn't ready to make that mistake again.

But I could promise something else. I could give my loyalty, my commitment, my strength. I could give everything but my heart. Love... love was a dangerous thing. It was unpredictable, wild, and too fragile. I didn't trust it. Not anymore. But loyalty—that was something I could stand behind. I owed him that much, and in return, he would have me, fully and completely, if not in love, then in every other way.

As the grand doors opened wider, the soft hum of the wedding music grew louder, a melody that felt like it was pulling me deeper into this new life. Dad, Avyaan's father, the man who had stepped in to act as my father, was always beside me. I could feel the warmth of his presence, the comfort of his hand as he gently placed it over mine, steadying me. 

For a brief moment, I felt like Baba was with me. I could almost hear his voice, feel the strength of his hand as if it were him guiding me down the aisle. It was as though he was walking beside me, whispering the words I so desperately needed to hear:

Everything will be alright, My Princess. You are stronger than this.

A sudden tightness gripped my chest, but not from fear. It was from the warmth of imagining my father's presence, knowing he would have wanted this for me. He would have wanted me to be safe, to be cared for. 

Dad leaned in closer, his voice soft but clear. "if you're being forced into this baccha... if you want to run, just squeeze my hand," he whispered, his tone light but serious enough that it made me pause."I'll take you away. We can turn around right now and disappear. I'll kidnap you if I have to." 

A small smile tugged at my lips despite everything. The idea was absurd, but I appreciated it. This man right next to me holding my hand and assuring me that I don't have to force myself is my dad, and it was worth it giving him that title. For a moment, I imagined it—the two of us running, escaping this grand palace, leaving behind the weight of expectations. But I knew I wasn't going to squeeze his hand. I wasn't running anymore. There was nowhere to run. I wasn't trapped here. This was my decision, my choice.

Still, I squeezed his hand gently, not to signal for an escape, but in silent gratitude. For a moment, it was enough to know that if I needed to, someone would be there to whisk me away. But I didn't want that.

"No," I whispered, my voice steady. "This is where I need to be." 

He nodded and gave my hand one last reassuring squeeze before we continued down the aisle. With each step, the grand decor With each step, the grand decor of the palace seemed to blur into the background. 

The opulent decorations were a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. Golden drapes adorned the walls, their shimmering folds catching the light and casting a warm, ethereal glow. Elaborate floral arrangements—deep reds, rich golds, and vibrant greens—lined the aisle, creating a path that seemed almost otherworldly. 

The scent of jasmine and roses filled the air, mingling with the sweet melodies of the wedding music.

As I walked, the soft rustling of my lehenga, an exquisite red creation designed by Avyaan himself, seemed to echo in my ears. The fabric was luxurious, each layer embellished with intricate embroidery and sequins that sparkled with every movement. The heavy, ornate dupatta draped over my head felt like a comforting weight, a reminder of the tradition and solemnity of this moment. I could feel the eyes of the guests, their gazes intense yet respectful, but I chose to focus on the path ahead.

Avyaan stood at the altar, his presence commanding and intense. His eyes were fixed on me, and though they held a fierce determination, there was also a tenderness that made me question everything I thought I knew about him. His gaze was unyielding, as if it could penetrate the very depths of my soul. The room seemed to hold its breath as I reached the end of the aisle, each step a reminder of the choices I was making.

When I arrived at the altar, I found myself face-to-face with Avyaan. His expression was a mix of apprehension and resolve. It was clear that he was as affected by this moment as I was. We stood there, separated by a distance that felt both intimate and insurmountable.

The officiant began the ceremony, his voice a soft murmur in the midst of the grandeur. My thoughts raced as I listened to the vows being spoken, my mind drifting back to the conversation with Aryan. I didn't need an escape route. This was not about fleeing. It was about confronting my new reality, embracing it with all its uncertainties and promises.

As the ceremony progressed, I could feel Avyaan's gaze never leaving me. It was as if he were trying to convey something through his eyes, something beyond words. I knew he was waiting for me to take this step, to accept this bond, and to forge a future together.

The ritualistic chants and the sacred fire that flickered between us seemed to symbolize more than just our union. 

They represented the culmination of so many complex emotions—trust, commitment, fear, and a tentative hope for what could be. The fire's warmth was a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in my heart. It was a reminder of the bond being formed, the promise of a shared life, however uncertain.

The final moments of the ceremony were a blur of emotions. I looked around, seeing the faces of those who were here to witness this moment, but all I could truly focus on was Avyaan. As we exchanged garlands and performed the final rites, I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me. This was the beginning of something new, a chapter I had never anticipated but was now fully immersed in.

When the ceremony concluded, Avyaan gently took my hand, guiding me away from the altar. There was no grand proclamation of love, but a soft gesture placing his soft lips on my forehead. Just a quiet understanding that this was the beginning of our life together. His hand in mine was both comforting and grounding.

As we walked together, I couldn't shake the thought of what lay ahead. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear: this was the path I had chosen. 

The grand palace, the opulent decor, the intricately designed lehenga—all of it was a part of this new journey. And though my heart was still wrapped in layers of hesitation and guarded hope, I knew that with each step forward, I was moving toward something that, despite its complexities, was undeniably real.

In this new chapter, there would be no more running. No more looking back. Just moving forward, step by step, with Avyaan by my side, facing whatever came next together.