The sound of her anklets struck my ears like bullets. I didn’t look at her and wouldn’t. Not without exploding. God, I’d never wanted to murder a woman, but she…
His brother and father helped her to settle beside me, close enough that I could feel her warmth. It only ignited more rage.
My fists clenched on my knees, knuckles turning white. I wanted to scream at her. Tell her she’d stolen this day and stolen everything. But I swallowed it down like poison, gritted my teeth, and stayed still.
Time dragged on. Every ritual felt like a punishment.
Then came the sindoor.
The priest handed me a small silver bowl.
I stared at the red powder for a second too long. My breath caught. The weight of what it symbolized: belonging, acceptance, love felt like iron in my hand.
I felt none of those things.
Only fury.
I dipped my fingers into the vermilion, then raised my hand above her head. My chest rose with a sharp breath and I dropped the powder in one abrupt motion.
It fell too quickly.
Instead of her hairline, the vermilion spilled across her face, on her nose, her cheeks, staining the edge of her saree like blood on snow.
Avni gasped.
And then she smirked.
My jaw clenched, fingers curling into my palm. That smirk. It wasn't a shock but a victory.
She knew she had won.
The priest spoke again, calling for the mangalsutra.
They handed me the necklace. It was delicate gold, studded with tiny black beads. Sacred. Revered.
I wanted to crush it in my fist and I almost did.
My fingers wrapped around the chain, tight enough to dig into my skin. A dozen thoughts raced through my head. I could still walk away. I could throw it into the fire and end this farce.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I leaned in and ignored the tremble in my breath as I tied it around her neck with cold, calculated hands.
I didn’t meet her eyes as I sat back, breathing sharply, the mangalsutra hanging between us like chains on a prison gate.
It was done.
And for the first time in my life, I felt truly bound.
Not by love.
But by hatred.
_______
Chapter 5
AVNI