The morning light in the Raghuwanshi suite wasn't bright, it was a soft, filtered silver that clung to the charcoal walls. I stirred against the silk pillows, the weight of the last six months feeling like a beautiful, golden anchor. Before I could even open my eyes, I felt the familiar heat of him.

Kabir was hovering over me, his damp hair dripping slightly from an early shower, his scent sandalwood and cold rain filling my senses. Without a word, he leaned down, his lips meeting mine in a slow, deep kiss that tasted of caffeine and a possessiveness that hadn't faded for a single second since our wedding night. It wasn't a "good morning" kiss, it was a reminder of who I belonged to.