Zavian's POV:

Her arms clung to me, her body flush against my back, every curve pressing into me as we sped through the deserted streets. I exhaled slowly, gripping the handlebars tighter, but nothing could distract me from the warmth of my wife wrapped around me.

"And where are we going?" she asked, her voice soft in my ear, the vibrations of it sinking into my skin.

I smirked, rolling my shoulders slightly just to feel the way her grip tightened. "Somewhere special."

She huffed, adjusting her hold, her fingers brushing against my stomach. A low chuckle escaped me. "Careful, jaan, if you keep clinging to me like that, I might take a detour."

She smacked my chest lightly, but I caught the way she sucked in a breath when my muscles tensed beneath her touch. "Shut up and drive, Mr. Husband," she muttered, but the warmth of her cheek pressing against my back told me she wasn't that annoyed.

The roads were empty, the city lights a blur as we weaved through them, the deep growl of Reaper filling the silence between us. I could feel her every breath, every nervous shift against me, and hell—if she had any idea what it was doing to me.

I reached down, grabbing her hand from where it rested hesitantly at my waist and pulled it fully around me. Locking it in place. Possessively.

"Hold on properly, Mashal-e-Mehtaab," I murmured over my shoulder.

She stiffened for a second but obeyed, her fingers curling into my jacket, her body molding even closer. "Happy now?" she grumbled.

I smirked. "Ecstatic."

The ride stretched in delicious silence, only the wind and our breaths filling the space. She smelled like roses and warmth, like something meant to be held close. And damn, if I wasn't tempted to stop this bike, pull her in front of me, and see how breathless I could make her before we even reached our destination.

But patience, Zavian.

I had all night.

The road stretched ahead, dark and endless, but my focus wasn't on the destination anymore. It was on the woman wrapped around me, her warmth sinking into my skin through the layers of fabric. Every time the bike hit a bump, she clutched me tighter, her breath hot against my back.

I smirked. "Comfortable, jaan?"

Iman scoffed, her fingers curling into my jacket as if she wasn't holding on for dear life. "I still hate your damn bike."

I chuckled, revving the engine just to hear her gasp. "Liar. You just like pretending you do."

She let out a frustrated groan, but the way her body tensed against mine told me I was right.

The city lights began to fade as I took the turns I knew by heart. It was almost dawn when we reached the cliffside—a hidden place I'd found years ago, far from the chaos of the city, overlooking the sea where the sun would soon rise. I pulled Reaper to a stop, the deep purr of the engine dying down as silence wrapped around us.

"Zavian..." she breathed, lifting her head from my back.

I swung my leg over the bike and turned, my eyes darkening as I took her in. The wind played with her hair, her lips slightly parted as she gazed at the view. But she wasn't looking at the sea. She was looking at me.

Slowly, I reached for her, my hands finding her waist, and pulled her off the bike. Her hands landed on my chest for balance, her body close—too close.

"What is this place?" she asked, her voice softer now, her usual sharpness melting into curiosity.

I brushed a strand of hair from her face, my fingers grazing her cheek longer than necessary. "Somewhere only I come to. Somewhere that's mine."

Her brows furrowed slightly. "And you brought me here?"

My thumb traced the corner of her lips, watching how her breath hitched at my touch. "That should tell you something."

She swallowed, eyes searching mine. "What?"

I leaned in, my voice dropping to a murmur. "That you're mine too."

Her breath stuttered. "You're shameless."

I smirked. "And you love it."

She didn't deny it. Instead, her hands tightened on my shirt, pulling me closer. The night stretched between us, heavy with something unspoken. Something that made my pulse quicken.

And then, just as my fingers traced her jaw, a slow, teasing touch, the first rays of the sun began to rise behind her.

Perfect timing.

I tilted my head, murmuring against her skin, "Happy Munh Dikhai, jaan."

And then I slipped the bracelet onto her wrist—the one I had customized just for her.

Her lips parted, eyes flickering to the delicate bracelet now adorning her wrist. And God... the way she looked at me, as if I was something impossible.

"Zavian... you already gave me an anklet," she whispered, her fingers brushing over the intricate silver design.

I smirked, tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to meet my gaze. "That was just an appetizer, Mashal-e-Mehtaab."

A flush crept up her neck, but she rolled her eyes, trying to mask it. "You act like you're some grand romantic."

I leaned in, my lips grazing the shell of her ear. "And you act like you don't like it."

She sucked in a breath, but before she could argue, I pulled back, watching her reaction. The bracelet was no ordinary piece—it had our initials engraved on the inside, along with a date. The day she unknowingly walked into my life and turned it upside down.

She turned her wrist, her brows furrowing slightly when she noticed the engraving. "What's this?"

I smirked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. "Figure it out, Mashal-e-Mehtaab."

Her brows furrowed as she traced over the delicate engraving, lips moving soundlessly as she read. "Four years ago..." She blinked, the weight of the words sinking in. Then suddenly, her eyes widened, and she snapped her gaze to mine. "No, you didn't! How do you remember the exact date, Zavian?" Her voice was laced with disbelief.

I leaned in, my voice dipping into something lower, rougher. "Because it was the day you wrecked me, sweetheart."

Her breath hitched.

"The day you met my gaze and rolled them... uff," I continued, a slow smirk tugging at my lips. "The day I realized no woman had ever irritated me more—" I caught her wrist, brushing my thumb over her pulse. "And the day I knew, without a doubt, that I was going to make you mine."

Her cheeks were burning now, her fingers tightening around the bracelet as if it were the only thing grounding her.

She scoffed, though it was weaker than usual. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're adorable when you're flustered."

Her jaw clenched as she tried to compose herself. "So what? You were secretly pining for me all this time?"

I chuckled, reaching down to tilt her chin up. "Secretly? Jaan, I made it pretty damn obvious."

She opened her mouth, probably to argue, but I caught her off guard when I lifted her wrist to my lips, pressing a kiss just above the bracelet.

Her pulse fluttered beneath my touch.

"Every little detail about you, Iman, I remember it all." My gaze flickered to hers, dark and unreadable. "And you're going to remember this moment just as much as I will."

She swallowed, her fingers trembling slightly as they clutched my jacket.

"Zavian..." she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Stop looking at me like that."

I smirked. "Like what?"

She exhaled sharply, pulling away, but I caught her wrist again, dragging her back effortlessly.

"Like you'd devour me given the chance," she muttered.

I tilted my head, grinning. "Who said I need a chance?"

Her face turned a deep shade of red as she smacked my arm, eyes glinting with amusement. "Bohat hi koi besharam hain aap, mashallah," she muttered sarcastically, a playful grin tugging at her lips. (You're so shameless, Mashallah.)

I chuckled, effortlessly catching her wrist before she could escape. My grip was gentle, but firm enough to pull her closer. "Aur tum bohat hi ziddi ho, Mashal-e-Mehtaab," I murmured, my voice dipping lower, laced with something unmistakable. "Par kya karein... yahi zid mujhe pagal karti hai." (And you're incredibly stubborn, my moonlit flame. But what can I do... this very stubbornness drives me insane.)

Her laughter was soft, breathless, the kind that wrapped around me like a spell. "Well..." she mused, eyes twinkling with mischief. "It's Fajr time, Zavian Qari Sahb."

I arched a brow. "Mmhm."

She smirked. "Toh chaliye ghar. And thank you for destroying my sleep for such a pretty moment... it was worth it." (Let's go home.)

I exhaled a chuckle, shaking my head as I laced my fingers through hers. "Jaan," I murmured, kissing her knuckles, "agar mere bas mein hota toh yeh raat kabhi khatam na hoti." (If it were up to me, this night would never end.)

Her breath hitched for a second, but she quickly masked it, tugging at my hand. "Chalein, besharam sahb?"

I smirked. "Chalein, meri ziddi biwi." (Let's go my stubborn wife.)