"I am so sorry, Ambika," Rudraksha choked out, his voice thick with emotion. With trembling hands, he withdrew, his eyes downcast as if he could not bear to meet her gaze. "I... You don't deserve this," he continued, his words laced with anguish. "You don't deserve any of it..." As he spoke, his eyes, red-rimmed and wild, finally met hers. His hair fell in disheveled locks across his forehead, giving him an untamed appearance. He was caught between his emotions and his fierce possessiveness. "But I can't let you go... you're mine, right?" he said, voice softening as he searched her eyes for answers. Of course, no one would dare lay a finger on me except you, she thought, her eyes hardening. But before she could respond, he moved with surprising swiftness, wrapping her in a tight embrace. The feel of his strong arms around her was startling. Rudraksha was reduced to tears, it was a peculiar sight-his colossal frame, usually a source of strength now trembled with each sob. The man whose muscular build and stoic demeanor exuded an almost intimidating confidence, now seemed so fragile, so human. Instinctively, Ambika returned his embrace, her fingers gently stroking his back in an attempt to soothe him. "I can't leave without you, Ambika," he sobbed, his voice muffled against her neck. "You're too precious to me. I love you so much... I love you, more than I love myself." ••• "Stay away from me. You have no idea what I can do to you," he warned, his voice dripping with desperation and a hint of madness. "I am Rakshas, Ambika. I am a Rakshas!" His eyes blood shot, dripping with tears. ••• "If you are a thorn," she continued, her words soft but resolute, "I would happily open my arms to get hurt. If you are a heartbreaker, then my innocent heart is waiting for you to break. My hands are waiting for the awaiting hands of sorrow."
55 parts