The air in the room was thick, charged with the electricity of Myra's defiance. Reyansh's breathing was ragged as he reached for the nightstand, his movements focused and intense. He tore open a foil packet, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet room. He was a man driven by a singular, possessive need to reclaim the territory she had just so boldly challenged.
As he moved over her, his weight was a familiar, heavy anchor. He entered her with a low growl of satisfaction, his hands pinning her wrists to the pillows. For a few moments, the world outside—the stolen blueprints, Shanaya's smirks, the board's judgment—simply ceased to exist. There was only the heat and the friction of their bodies.
But then, the rhythm faltered.
Reyansh went still. His forehead was resting against hers, his eyes squeezed shut, but his body had locked up. He felt a different kind of warmth, a slickness that wasn't supposed to be there.
He pulled back slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion. As he looked down, his heart skipped a beat. The white silk sheets were stained with a stark, spreading crimson. It wasn't the result of his roughness—it was too much, too sudden.
"Myra?" he whispered, his voice losing its jagged edge.
Myra looked down, her face turning even paler as she realized what was happening. A sharp, familiar cramp blossomed in her lower abdomen, making her wince and curl into herself.
"I... I think I'm late," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of pain and fresh embarrassment. "I didn't realize... the stress of the board meeting, I—"
The predatory fire in Reyansh's eyes died instantly. It was replaced by something Myra had never seen before: genuine, panicked concern. He moved with a speed that wasn't about dominance, but about care. He stripped off the condom and immediately pulled the duvet over her, shielding her from the air-conditioned chill.
"Don't move," he commanded, but this time, the command was soft.
He stood up, ignoring his own state of undress, and disappeared into the master bathroom. Myra heard the sound of a drawer being opened—he kept a stock of everything in this house, even things she hadn't realized. He returned with a warm, damp towel and a clean pair of his own silk boxer shorts.
"Reyansh, I can do it myself," she said, trying to sit up, but the cramps hit her again, making her gasp.
"I said don't move," he repeated, sititng on the edge of the bed.
With a gentleness that contradicted every cold word he'd said in the office, he cleaned her skin. His large, calloused hands, which had been so demanding minutes ago, were now incredibly careful. He helped her into the silk shorts—they were massive on her, the waistband reaching her ribs—and then he walked to the other side of the room to grab a fresh set of sheets from the linen closet.
He didn't make her move to the guest room. He simply lifted her onto the armchair, stripped the bed with mechanical efficiency, and remade it in silence.
When he was done, he lifted her back into the center of the bed. He went to the small kitchenette in the suite and returned ten minutes later with a mug of hot ginger tea and a heating pad he'd found in the medical kit.
"Drink," he said, placing the mug in her hands.
Myra looked at him, her eyes wide. He was shirtless, his hair messy, sitting on the edge of the bed watching her drink tea as if she were the most fragile structure he'd ever designed.
"You called me a sex buddy today," she whispered, the steam from the tea hitting her face. "You said I was just a distraction. Why are you doing this?"
Reyansh looked away, his jaw tightening. The "Ice King" was trying to find his mask again, but it was shattered.
"A man protects his property from everything, Myra," he said, though his voice lacked its usual bite. "Even from pain."
He climbed into the bed beside her—not to touch her sexually, but to pull her back against his chest, his large hand resting over the heating pad on her stomach. For the first time since she had arrived in Mumbai, the silence wasn't a threat. It was a shield.
"Sleep," he muttered against her hair. "The board will be there tomorrow. And I'll be there, too. No one is touching you again."
Author's Thought
THE SOFT REYANSH?! 😱🧸 This is a massive turning point! Seeing Myra in physical pain completely broke his "Cold" persona. He went from Predator to Caretaker in seconds. 🚩➡️💖