Vaishali's POV -

I shouldn't have touched the mark.

But I did.

Again.

And again.

Standing before the mirror the next morning...

my fingers brushed the faint hickey on my neck.

And my heart betrayed me.

Wildly.

How was I supposed to face anyone?

How was I supposed to look at him?

"Vaishaliiii!"

Rhea barged in.

I nearly jumped.

Her eyes narrowed instantly.

Then widened.

Then...

she screamed.

"OH MY GOD."

I panicked.

"What?"

She pointed at my neck.

No.

No no no.

I covered it instantly.

Too late.

Kavya rushed in.

Saw it.

And collapsed laughing.

Arya gasped dramatically.

"Bhai marked bhabhi!"

I wanted death.

Immediate death.

Rhea was almost crying laughing.

"Our ruthless Rudraksh Rathore gives hickeys?"

I hid my face.

"Please stop..."

But they didn't.

Of course they didn't.

Kavya leaned close and whispered...

"Tell us..."

"Does bhai kiss like he looks?"

I nearly combusted.

Before I could answer...

A voice came from the doorway.

Cold.Calm.Dangerous.

"Should I answer for her?"

Silence.

Everyone froze.

Rudraksh.

Leaning against the door.

Watching.Smirking.

The girls ran.

Literally ran.

Traitors.

And suddenly...

it was just us.

I couldn't look up.

He stepped closer.

Eyes dropping deliberately...

to my neck.

A slow dark satisfaction entered them.

My pulse became unmanageable.

"You covered it badly."

I whispered,

"This is your fault."

He leaned close.

Voice against my ear.

"I can fix that."

My knees almost failed.

He noticed.Naturally.

And smiled.Dangerously.

Mehendi Ceremony

The mansion transformed again.

Emerald drapes.
Rose petals.
Candles.
Music.
Henna artists.
Women laughing.

I sat while intricate mehendi climbed my hands.

Hidden in the design...

his name.

Rudraksh.

Wrapped into my palm.

Aishu leaned beside me.

Smiling softly.

"You look happy."

I paused.

Then...

"I think I am."

And for the first time...

I meant it.

Across the courtyard...

he watched me.

Not speaking.

Just watching.

Like a man memorizing what belongs to him.

Later...

he came near.

Looked at my hands.

"Where's my name?"

I smiled faintly.

"You have to find it."

His eyes darkened.

"Challenge?"

"Maybe."

He leaned closer.

Whispered...

"If I find it..."

Pause.

"I collect a prize."

My heartbeat stumbled.

"What prize?"

His mouth near my ear...

"A kiss."

I nearly forgot how to breathe.

Rudraksh's POV

She laughed tonight.

Freely.
No shadows.
No fear.

And somehow...that made me more dangerous.

Because I wanted this preserved.

Untouched.
Permanent.

Then my phone buzzed.

Raghav.

No trace on that account. Fake route. Dead end.

My jaw tightened.

I hated dead ends.

Especially around her.

Someone was watching.

And I hadn't found him yet.

Unacceptable.

My eyes lifted to Vaishali.

Laughing under lights.
Henna on her hands.
Moonlight in her hair.

And one thought rose cold inside me...

Touch her.
Try.
I dare you.

Night - After Mehendi

She stood in the corridor alone.

Studying her hands.

I approached quietly.

She startled.

Then softened seeing me.

I took her wrist.

Examining henna.

"Where is it?"

I asked.

She whispered,

"Find it."

So I did.

Slowly tracing patterns.

My fingers over her palm.

Too intimate.

Too deliberate.

Then...

I found it.

My name.

Hidden.

Buried.

Like a secret she'd written into herself.

I looked at her.

"You lose."

She blinked.

"What?"

"My prize."

Heat flooded her face.

I stepped in.

Close.

"So..."

She whispered...

"Someone might come."

"Let them."

I bent but instead of her lips my mouth brushed that same marked place on her neck.

Right over the hickey.

A soft kiss.

Then another.

Her breath shattered.

"Rudraksh..."

I murmured against her skin...

"You wear my name in your hands..."

My lips moved lower.

"And my mark here."

His thumb under her chin.

"Seems marriage already happened."

She went still.
Ruined.
Beautiful.
And I almost forgot restraint existed.

Author's POV -

Far away... a car waited outside college gates.

Engine off.

Lights dead.

Inside...

someone watched old photographs.

Intermediate days.

A younger Vaishali.

Smiling.
Trusting.
Unaware.

A finger traced her face.

"She forgot."

A bitter smile.

"But I didn't."

Phone screen lit.

Wedding photos.

His jaw hardened.

"Mehendi first."

Pause.

"Then I come."

And somewhere under wedding music...

danger took its first step closer.

Because weddings don't just unite lovers.

Sometimes they summon ghosts.

To be continued...