14. Crimson empire ✨

Happy reading ✨

Maaf kar dena ...pta h time nhi de pa rahi hu sorry 😔 🥺

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As Siya's scream tore through the room, the scene that unfolded before her was a vision straight out of a nightmare.

Hell would have been kinder.

Her voice cracked with desperation, a hollow echo of the agony that coursed through her veins-not because of a fleeting fear, but because of the sight that froze her soul.

Before her, a body-no, her brother's body-slumped in the chair, barely human, barely recognizable.

Thick ropes bound his limbs to the chair, digging so deep into his skin that wires seemed to fuse with his flesh, as if his very body had been torn apart and stitched back together with cruelty.

Bruises, cuts, and scars painted a grotesque map across his skin, each mark a testament to unimaginable suffering.

His mouth hung open as if he had been screaming for an eternity, yet no sound escaped.

Dried blood caked his lips, evidence of the torment he'd endured in silence.

His eyes-oh, those eyes-were a brutal horror of their own.

Someone had started cutting them but left the job unfinished, leaving jagged edges along the sides of his lids.

His tongue was no more than a jagged stump now, a cruel reminder of the depths of the brutality.

The blood that had once streamed from the wound had long since dried, leaving his mouth a desolate cavern of silent agony.

But it was his neck that turned Siya's blood cold-a deep, savage slash cutting a macabre cross across his throat, marking him as a sacrificial lamb, left to bleed out long before she could save him.

Time had robbed her of any hope.

Her brother was almost gone.

He stood there, shackled in torment, as small drops of liquid fell steadily from above. Each drop hissed as it made contact with his skin, burning painfully like acid, yet somehow leaving no visible scars behind. The pain was pure and relentless, designed to wound his spirit rather than his flesh.

His legs were wrapped in tight, twisted wires-sharp, biting into his skin with every movement. The metal constricted him, digging deep as if trying to claim his life one agonizing inch at a time. His hands and feet, devoid of nails, bled sluggishly. The absence of nails only added to the grotesque scene, as his body trembled in helpless exhaustion, trapped in a nightmare that offered no escape, only endless suffering.

As she burst into the room, her voice sharp and urgent, Raghav stood still beside her. He glanced to his right, where his petite wife, Siya, stood in the doorway. Her outburst lingered in the air, yet there was something different about her now. He gazed down at her, noticing how her eyes reflected a raw innocence, almost childlike, as if searching for reassurance. His heart softened at the sight.

In that moment, Raghav felt like a lost puppy-wide-eyed, uncertain, desperate to understand. There was a look in her eyes that tugged at him, a blend of confusion and tenderness that left him wondering: What was she searching for?

As the minutes passed, the weight of the moment began to sink in. Siya's breath slowed, her frantic emotions slowly coming under control. She blinked away the tears gathering in her eyes, taking a steady breath as she regained her composure. Love, care, and vulnerability all swirled within her as she collected herself, wiping away the chaos of her feelings. Finally, she understood-what she had been feeling, what she had been trying to convey without even realizing it.

She turned toward Raghav, only to find his gaze already fixed on her. The intensity of his eyes was impossible to ignore, and as Diya's eyes met his, a flood of emotions raced through her. Her lips trembled before she finally spoke, her voice soft yet heavy with unspoken questions, "Ye kya hai, Hukkum sa?"

But her eyes told a different story-they asked, *Why? Why did you do this? For what reason?*

Raghav, unmoved by her visible distress, responded in a voice so sweet and quiet it almost felt like a caress. "Gunaho ki saja," he said, the weight of his words settling into the silence between them.

The trembling in her body mirrored the storm of emotions she was desperately trying to conceal. In that fleeting moment of vulnerability, her gaze faltered, darting away from the figure standing before her. Her fingers, trembling and unsure, reached out instinctively to find stability—something, anything to ground her. But instead of cold wood or steel, her hand closed around his wrist. His skin felt foreign yet oddly familiar against her soft, delicate touch, almost like a fish gliding through water.

The realization of what she had done hit her all at once. Her once distant eyes, hollowed by years of pain and suffering, now overflowed with emotion. Her face contorted in a whirlwind of expressions, confusion, fear, and something unnameable, as if she was lost in an endless loop of internal questions she could not find the answers to.

A single tear, almost timid in its descent, slid down her cheek—a tear that carried the weight of emotions long buried. But as that drop hit the ground, Raghav's frustration simmered. Anger bubbled inside him, not because of the situation but because of the sight of that tear. Tears were his enemy, a symbol of weakness he had sworn to banish from his life. He had never cried—not for himself, not for anyone else. He had denied the existence of tears, locked them away in a place he never dared to venture. Yet now, standing there, his world threatened by a single drop of her sorrow, he found himself confronting the one thing he could never bear.

Raghav's patience was wearing thin. The once composed and mighty Queen of Rajasthan was crumbling before him, her tears piercing through his resolve like daggers. Fury surged in his chest. This wasn’t how things were supposed to unfold, and the sight of her vulnerability only fueled the fire within him. He had to regain control, for both their sakes.

His voice thundered through the room as he barked orders to his guards, "Wake him up!" His command echoed, laced with the authority of a man who demanded obedience without question.

Within moments, three guards entered, carrying medical supplies with a grim efficiency. Two of them quickly positioned themselves at either side of Siya's unconscious brother. The air crackled with tension as they prepared the injections. The needles pierced both his arms simultaneously, delivering their potent concoction into his bloodstream.

It happened almost instantly. His eyes snapped open, and a deep, haunting crimson colored the whites of his eyes, the blood rushing violently to the surface. The room felt heavier, as if the very air around them had thickened, and Raghav's gaze remained locked on the brother, waiting to see what would happen next. The fragile equilibrium of the moment hung in the balance.

The past few days had transformed Raghav into something even his own guards struggled to recognize. Men who had stood beside him in countless battles, who had seen him carve through enemies with a precise, cold fury, now found themselves shaken by what they witnessed. The commander they had idolized had turned into something else entirely—something far darker, more vicious.

Even the devil himself would have flinched at the sight of Raghav's cruelty. The brutality with which he tortured Siya’s brother was unlike anything his men had ever seen. With a twisted smile etched on his face, Raghav had savored every agonizing scream that escaped his captive’s lips. He had removed each nail with meticulous care, as though the man's suffering was a symphony, each cry of pain a note that brought Raghav a perverse satisfaction.

The guards couldn’t understand it. They had witnessed their leader kill without hesitation, watched him bathe in the blood of his enemies, but this—this was different. This wasn’t the calculated violence they were used to. This was personal. Raghav had always been merciless, but never like this. His anger had a strange focus this time, and the reason for it was a mystery even to his closest men.

They had no answers. No one did. Raghav had never shared his motives, and they had learned not to question him. But now, as they watched him unleash his darkest impulses on a man who seemed powerless before him, they couldn’t help but wonder: what had Siya's brother done to deserve such a fate? What had ignited this fire within Raghav—a fire that, even for him, seemed impossibly cruel?

As Siya's brother finally stirred, his eyelids fluttered open, the light harsh and disorienting. His vision blurred, and he struggled to adjust to his surroundings, blinking rapidly to steady himself. Pain shot through his body, but when his gaze fell on hers—those familiar eyes filled with concern, desperation, and something deeper—his broken voice tried to form words. It was a futile attempt, his body too weak, yet his lips quivered as if to speak.

Siya, seeing his fragile state, felt her heart lurch. Her legs seemed to move on their own, instinctively turning her toward him, guiding her closer to the one she had feared might never wake up again. The weight of her emotions pulled her forward, and before she knew it, she was walking toward him, her steps quickening despite herself. The connection between them was undeniable, even in this moment of agony and confusion.

The guards, who had already been grappling with their shock, now found themselves utterly bewildered. This was uncharted territory for them. Raghav, their ruthless leader, had never allowed anyone into this sacred space before, not even Veer, his most trusted confidant. Yet, here was Siya, standing by his side, her presence a stark contrast to the dark and violent energy that usually surrounded Raghav.

The sight of her so close to the man who had endured Raghav's wrath was something they couldn't comprehend. What had changed? Why was Siya here, allowed into a place where no one else had ever ventured? The guards exchanged glances, confusion and uncertainty written on their faces, as they tried to make sense of the scene unfolding before them. Something had shifted, but they couldn't yet grasp the depth of what that change meant for all of them.

As Siya made her way toward her brother, her focus solely on his fragile state, one of the guards dared to step forward. His eyes, perhaps out of habit, wandered briefly over Siya's face. But that brief glance was all it took to ignite the simmering rage inside Raghav.

In an instant, his hand reached for his gun, and with cold, unflinching precision, he fired two shots—both aimed directly into the guard's eyes. The crack of gunfire reverberated through the room like a thunderclap. The guard collapsed to the ground, his life extinguished as swiftly as Raghav's anger had flared. The other guards immediately recoiled in terror, taking two steps back, fear etching itself across their faces. They had seen Raghav's wrath before, but never this visceral, never this unrestrained.

Siya, caught in the shock of the moment, froze. Her breath caught in her throat, her body stiffening as she processed what had just happened. For a few agonizing seconds, she couldn't move, her mind spinning between disbelief and fear. But then, she felt it—his presence. After holstering his gun, Raghav had moved silently, coming to stand directly behind her. He was close, so close that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. His shadow engulfed her like a shield, and in that instant, her fear began to melt away.

The tension in the room shifted. Raghav was no longer just a figure of violence; he was a protector, a warrior standing guard over her. His imposing presence behind her, fierce and unyielding, gave her a strange sense of safety, a calm that she hadn't realized she was searching for. She inhaled deeply, her body instinctively relaxing, her muscles loosening as she leaned ever so slightly into the protective energy he emitted.

No one dared to move. Not a single guard twitched or even breathed too loudly. Raghav's authority, his power, was absolute. In this moment, he was not only her protector but a force no one would dare challenge. The message was clear: anyone who threatened her, even with a glance, would meet a swift and merciless end.

Standing behind Siya, Raghav's voice cut through the room with chilling clarity. “Don’t forget, boys, she is your queen both in the real world and the Crimson Empire.” His declaration was not merely a statement of fact but a stark reminder of her power and their absolute obedience.

The guards, who had always maintained an unflinching demeanor, were visibly rattled. They exchanged uneasy glances, their usual composure cracking under the weight of what they had just witnessed. The brutal enforcement of Siya's status as queen, even through something as seemingly minor as a glance, had left them shaken.

Despite Raghav's harsh reminder and the disturbing display, Siya remained focused on her brother. She paid little attention to the message or the fear it instilled in the guards. Her only concern was her brother’s well-being, and she continued to move toward him with unwavering determination.

As the corrosive acid continued to drip onto Siya's brother, the sight was too much for Siya to bear. Her heart ached with a profound, unbearable sorrow. She stumbled toward him, her body shaking with distress, and fell to her knees beside him. The raw emotion overcame her, and she began to cry uncontrollably.

In a voice choked with anguish, she screamed, “Kyun bhai...kyun... Kya galti thi meri... kya main ladki thi ye galt tha... Aap aur dukh na ho baba na bura mane isliye ab chhod ke aayi thi na main yaha... Jii rahi thi na main akele... kyun kiya ye hamare sath...” ("Why, brother...why... What was my fault... was it wrong that I am a girl... I left to avoid causing more pain and suffering, and I was living alone... why did this happen to us?") Her cries were a mixture of confusion, desperation, and a plea for understanding, her tears falling onto the unforgiving ground.

Seeing her in such torment, her tears spilling for someone who, in Raghav’s eyes, deserved nothing but a painful end, ignited a fierce rage within him. The contrast between Siya’s grief and the brutality inflicted upon her brother struck him deeply. Raghav’s anger eclipsed his emotions and rules, pushing him to act in a fit of fury.

With a sudden, brutal movement, he drove a nails into his own palm. Blood spurted from the wound, mixing with the anger that burned in his eyes. His forehead was etched with a fierce scowl, eyes blazing red with rage, and his ears seemed to hum with the intensity of his emotions. The veins in his neck and arms stood out, a testament to the raw effort he was exerting to control himself. His entire demeanor was a volatile mix of fury and anguish, as he grappled with the overwhelming pain of the situation and his own helplessness.

Siya now struggled to breathe, her chest tightening as the weight of her emotions pressed down on her. Despite the cruel reality that her brother had once tried to kill her and sell her, the bond of sisterhood was too strong for her to ignore. She was overwhelmed by a deep, conflicting pain—she wished for his safety and for the return of the love and connection they had shared as siblings.

Her mind replayed memories of happier times, moments when they laughed and shared their lives with each other. She longed for those days again, to see him smile, to experience the simple joys of being family. Yet, the harsh truth was undeniable: the man before her was lost to her. Raghav's brutal actions had dealt him a fate she knew was harsh but, in his eyes, deserved for anyone who disrespects women.

Yet, even knowing this, Siya’s heart ached for what could have been. The pain was not just for the man who had tried to harm her but for the sibling bond that was now irrevocably broken. The complex mix of hatred and love, justice and sorrow, left her struggling to reconcile the man she wished he had been with the reality of who he had become.

Siya realized, in her deep sorrow, that there was no brother left in her life, no one she could proudly call family. The love and bond she had hoped to share were gone, and with it, the notion of having a supportive sibling who stood by her.

She had long believed that being a girl was a disadvantage, a belief deeply ingrained by her experiences. Yet, in her moment of reflection, she recognized a profound truth: being a girl is one of the most beautiful things in the world. A woman, a girl, embodies both deep emotional strength and extraordinary resilience. She possesses the ability to nurture life, to hold and create life within herself.

A girl is like a goddess, capable of giving birth to life—a gift and a power beyond measure. The notion of considering being a girl as anything less than extraordinary is a grave misunderstanding.

"Enjoy being a girl," she thought. "You are the strongest. Trust yourself. Love yourself." A woman becomes her most powerful self when she understands and embraces her true value. In her heart, she knew that recognizing and valuing oneself is the key to unlocking immense inner strength and resilience.

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Love you all 💗

Next chapter will include there pov also .

Thank you so much

Next chapter will be available till to  night ....