"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."
"Yuvraj, please," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Don't do this."
"Get up," he ordered, his voice as cold as ice.
Tears streamed down my face. "Please, I'll do anything. Just don't make me-"
"Step on the glass," he interrupted, his eyes burning with hatred.
I shook my head, trembling. "No. I can't. It will hurt. Please."
"You will pay for what you did to Prisha," he spat, dragging me closer to the jagged shards.
"Yuvraj, no!" I screamed as he shoved me forward. The sharp edges pierced my skin, sending searing pain through my feet.
"Walk," he commanded, his voice void of mercy.
"Please, Yuvraj. Stop," I begged, sobbing as the glass tore through flesh.
He laughed cruelly. "This is what you deserve, Aisha. Keep going."
Her broken sobs filled the room, each step she took leaving a trail of blood.
"This is for Prisha," I said, my voice sharp and unyielding.
"Please," she whispered, collapsing onto the floor.
I stood over her, unmoved. "This is just the beginning, Aisha. Your torment has only begun."
Discover more of Aisha and Yuvraj's story in The Threads of Destiny-Book 1 in the Sharma Series. Cover designed by my talented friend @𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐚_𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞