Rudhran's pov.

I stepped out of the bathroom, towel loose around my hips, hair dripping onto my shoulders, and for a moment I just stood still. She was there—my Amrutha—bent slightly, picking up the mess we had made last night, my shirt in her hands, her saree crumpled near her feet. She looked so small and yet so powerful at the same time. My marks were still shining on her skin, faint red scratches and bruises she hadn’t even bothered to cover yet.