The Rule
Simarth whispered, his voice dripping with refined malice.
Samarth's whisper in her ear sent shivers down her spine. His warm breath caressed her skin, and his proximity made her heart skip a beat.
No one, except Izhar, had ever dared to invade her personal space so brazenly.
Samarth's audacity ignited a fierce rage within her. His dark, chiseled features seemed to radiate an aura of menace, his meadow-green eyes gleaming with a sinister intensity. His sharp jawline and sculpted lips seemed to hint at a cruelty that made her blood run cold.