I stood at the threshold of the bridal chamber, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood from the wedding garlands still draped around my neck. At 20, I had always known this day would come—our community's ancient tradition where one woman binds herself to an entire household of brothers. My mother-in-law, Suman Aunty, with her five strapping sons, had chosen me as the bride to unite their lineage. Now, on this wedding night, I was theirs—all five of them. Raj, the eldest at 28, tall and broad-shouldered; Amit, 26, lean and intense; Vikram, 24, with a mischievous grin; Sameer, 22, shy but eager; and the youngest, Karan, just 20 like me, his eyes wide with curiosity. They waited inside, the room lit by flickering oil lamps, the large bed covered in red silk sheets that promised the night's indulgences.