Rudra's POV:-
The moment they left, the silence of the terrace felt heavy. My mind, usually a fortress of cold logic, was dragged back ten years.
Veer, Arav, and I. We were the trinity of this palace.
But Arav... Arav was the only gravity in my universe. His name is a prayer I've whispered in my darkest nightmares, a mantra that kept me sane when the world tried to break me. If the world were ending tomorrow and I heard his voice, I would crawl through hellfire just to reach him. I would mortgage my soul, my breath, and every drop of my royal blood just to see a single smile grace his lips.
To the world, he is just a man. To me? He is a celestial being, an Angel trapped in a cage of mortal skin. My fist clenched until the skin nearly split. A violent, suffocating greed rose in my chest—I wanted those ten years back. I wanted every stolen second I spent rotting in exile, every heartbeat I wasted without him by my side.
I can still hear it if I close my eyes: his voice, breathless and light, calling me "Ru."
That name is a sacred relic. I've spent a decade in the shadows, making sure no one else dared to breathe it, ensuring that his voice remains the only one allowed to mark me so intimately. I remember the weight of his small fingers tangled in mine as sleep claimed us; I remember the stubborn, childish greed of demanding two kisses on my cheeks before I'd even considered closing my eyes.
A flood of those memories crashed over me, and for a moment, I let myself drown in the warmth of them. But as I relived those cherished fragments, the warmth curdled into something sharper. A slow, sinister smile carved itself onto my face.
Back then, I was just a boy with a crush—a child with a heart made of glass.
Now? Now I have the power, the position, and the calculated darkness required to keep him pinned to my side forever. The world spent ten years trying to break me, and in the process, they forged a weapon. If anyone dares to try and send me away again, they won't be facing the Crown Prince but someone who would do or die to stay.
They will meet the monster they created by separating me from him.
Author's POV
While the Crown Prince was drifting through the ghosts of his past, a whirlwind of chaotic energy was ascending the palace stairs.
The three "babies" of the household—Kartik, Kirti, and Aditi—had finally reached the terrace. The news of their elder brother's return after a decade had spread through the Mahal and nation like wildfire, the moment they stepped off the car. Before their bags could even hit the floor or a single greeting could be exchanged with the elders, the trio had abandoned all royal decorum.
They rushed upward, driven by a decade of curiosity and missed affection, heading straight for the terrace where Rudra and Rajveer were currently silhouetted against the dying orange glow of the sunset.
Quick catch up:-
Kartik Pratap Shekhawat (15): The youngest brother, he was a burst of chaotic energy. He had the sharp, royal features of the Shekhawat lineage but with a mischievous glint in his eyes that he hadn't yet learned to hide. He was tall for his age, already showing the lean, athletic build of his older cousins, Rajveer (19) and Rudra.
Kirti Shekhawat (15): Kartik's twin-like cousin and a true reflection of the family's devotion to their roots. Following the strict traditions and culture of their house, she possessed hair that reached past her waist—thick, obsidian waves that were usually neatly braided but currently a bit tousled from her run. She wore a traditional bindi that sat perfectly between her curious, almond-shaped eyes.
Aditi "Iti" Sharma: Arav's younger sister, and the living image of her brother. Looking at her was like looking at a softer, more delicate version of Arav. She shared his ethereal "Divine" aura—the same high cheekbones, the same calm, observant eyes, and a smile that seemed to light up the dark corners of the Haveli. She didn't just resemble him; she carried his grace.
"Bhai Saa!" Kirti chirped, spotting Rudra's back.
Before she could move, Kartik grabbed her collar. "I'm meeting him first, Lizard!"
"Let go, you damn dog!" Kirti snapped back with visible anger and annoyance "I called him first!"
"Your tongue is so sharp," Kartik mocked. "Just like a raw, sour mango."
Before Kirti could fire back, a voice interrupted them. "Stop it! If you two keep fighting like this, I'm going to go and meet Rana Saa first."
Kirti scoffed. "Don't tell me, tell him, Iti. He's wasting my time. What a dog"
Kartik's mouth hung open at her statement. Before he could reply, she stuck out her tongue and bolted past them, throwing herself into a hug with Rudra
"What a crazy girl," Kartik muttered. "She doesn't even have manners, Iti." And followed a second later, hovering over Rudra like a puppy and planting a loud, wet smooch on his cheek.
"Ew," Rudra muttered, wiping his face with a mock grimace, though his eyes softened. A feeling of being childish and innocence filled his heart after seeing his adopted children.
Aditi stood back, smiling sweetly, unaware that a pair of eyes was boring a hole into her soul, like a waiting hunter. She turned and found Rajveer staring at her with an intensity that made her breath hitch.
"Khamma Ghani, Veer," she whispered, stepping toward him. "How are you?"
Rajveer snapped out of his trance, burying the urge to snatch her up and hide her away on a private island. "Khamma Ghani, Iti. I'm fine. How was school?"
"Boring," she pouted, making Rajveer's heart skip a beat.
Rudra's stern voice broke the moment. "What is this 'missed you' nonsense? Where is your 'Khamma Ghani'? We are nothing without our roots."
The air on the terrace turned frigid. Rudra's eyes went black, devoid of any warmth. Kartik and Kirti shrank back, terrified by the sudden shift in his aura. Then, just as quickly as the ice had come, it melted. Rudra let out a short laugh. "Look at your faces! You look like monkeys."
Relief washed over them. Kirti hugged him again. "Brother, don't joke like that! I thought you were actually angry... like you used to be."
Kartik froze. The elders had given a strict warning: Never mention Rudra's past anger. Never remind him of the darkness.
Rudra's expression flickered with a haunting guilt for his siblings. "I don't get angry anymore, Kirti," he said, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand secrets and thousands of venom filled pricing poking his heart.
Kartik broke the heavy tension. "I missed you." Rudra ruffled Kartik's hair affectionately. "I missed you too"
"By the way," Rajveer teased, trying to break the tension. "Don't talk about manners, Ru. You didn't even greet Arav-bhaiya earlier."
Rudra's blood ran cold, the color draining from his face until he looked like a ghost of the Prince he was supposed to be.
He's right. I didn't greet him.
The thought was a jagged blade twisting in his chest. In his hopelessness to consume Arav with his gaze, he had forgotten the mask of the respectful younger. To Arav, he wouldn't look like a changed person; he would look like the same arrogant, cold-hearted brat who had been sent away for his darkness.
Dammit.
To anyone else, it was a minor social slip. To Rudra, it was a catastrophe. He lived his life by a singular, violent law: if Arav disliked a single thing—a habit, a word, a shadow of a thought—Rudra would cut it out of his soul within seconds. He would burn his own kingdom to the ground if the smoke pleased Arav's lungs.
Because what was a man without his breath? What was a King without his heart? Without Arav's approval, Rudra wasn't a Crown Prince—he was just a hollow suit of armor, rusting in the sun.
"Even if you had," Aditi's soft voice cut through his panic, "he wouldn't have remembered it anyway. "Khamma Ghani, Young Rana Saa. I am Aditi Sharma—Arav's sister."
Rudra's eyes flickered with recognition. "Iti! Ghani Khamba, baby. How did you grow up so much? I mean, so quickly! You were so small and chubby with round cheeks just like big boiled dumpling."
He reached out his hand. "Won't you hug your brother now?" Aditi teared up and threw herself into his embrace. "I thought you'd forgotten me!" She pouted more heavily at the feeling of being forgotten.
He chuckled. "How could I forget my sweet little baby, Iti?" Rudra continued, "By the way, who changed your nickname to Aditi?"
"Her parents did," Rajveer's voice cut in with an edge, his voice tightening. He stepped closer to her, his possessiveness flaring. Rudra narrowed his eyes at Rajveer.
A servant arrived to escort the children to the elders and Everyone knew why only those two were being called specifically.
Aditi bid them a gummy-smiled goodbye. "Bye-bye, Ru-Boss!"
Rudra's POV:-
The moment the terrace cleared, I turned on Rajveer. The pieces finally clicked.
"Aditi... Iti... wait. Iti is the Aditi you've been talking about for three years?"
Rajveer nodded, his jaw set.
"No. Absolutely not," I growled, my protective instincts flaring. "Stay away from my sister, Veer. She's fifteen. You're nineteen. She's innocent and you are a fucking bastard"
Rajveer scoffed, stepping into my space. "You just said a four-year gap was fine earlier. Arav is five years older than you, Ru. What's the difference? And you think she's innocent? You have no idea what a 'bomb' that girl is."
"Arav and I are different!" I snapped. "He was mine before I was even born!" I went completely still. The blood drained from my face, icy chill swept through my veins, freezing the very air in my lungs. My heart, which had been hammering with irritation, skipped a violent beat.
How did he know? I had spent a decade burying my hunger beneath layers of royal decorum and cold indifference. I had lived a lie so perfectly that I'd almost started to believe it myself. But the look in Rajveer's eyes was unmistakable—it wasn't a guess; it was a confirmation. My deepest, darkest secret—the obsession that defined my very existence—wasn't a secret at all. My brother had been watching the monster grow this entire time.
"How" the only words came out. "What? How? I have known you since birth" he smirked and a grin appeared on my face wide enough that Rajveer walked away, annoyed, and I chased after him. We argued all the way to my chambers. I eventually jumped on his back, a brief moment of brotherhood before I entered my private sanctuary—the master suite.
The heavy doors clicked shut.
The mask fell.
I took a long, jagged breath. My eyes snapped open, the black irises consuming the light in the room. My aura turned so oppressive that the shadows seemed to shrink away from me. The "Devil" was finally home. A cruel smile spread accross my lips.
I walked toward the far wall, the one directly facing my bed. It was draped in a massive, heavy dirty sheet of red silk—a velvet shroud that hid my soul until I was gone.
My knuckles turned white as I gripped the fabric. With one violent, predatory tug, I ripped it down.
The silk pooled at my feet like a wave of fresh blood.
There it was. My mosaic of obsession.
Hundreds of photos covered the stone wall—a timeline of Arav's life that I had been forced to watch through a lens. This was my shrine.
I traced the photos with trembling fingers representing my inner turmoil.
There was seven-year-old Arav, his face smeared with vanilla ice cream as he lick while sitting beside me with my hands in his.
There were his small, focused hands buttoning my shirt when I was a toddler. And I was staring at him with my full focus.
There was the photo of us napping in the gardens, his head securely on my shoulder, completely unaware of the darkness brewing in the boy beside him.
My fingers traced the glass of the next frame. We were sitting on the cold marble floor, our heads bent so close together that our hair tangled. We were drawing a world of our own on a single, tattered piece of parchment—a messy, intertwined kingdom where only the two of us existed. Even then, I hadn't been looking at the crayons. I had been looking at the smudge of lead on his cheek, memorizing the curve of his focus.
Than next, I was standing on the podium, the heavy gold weight hanging from my neck, but the metal meant nothing to me. In the crowd, Arav was beaming, his face radiating more pure, unadulterated joy than my own. The camera had captured the truth I'd tried to hide: while the world cheered for the Prince, the Prince's eyes were locked onto his "Angel," searching for the only prize that actually mattered—his approval.
And the last photo... the one taken the day of my exile. Arav, looking into the camera with that divine purity with worry filling his eyes And I was staring at him till my heart contents for the last few minutes before my exile.
There was a flicker of devotion fire in my eyes which now turned into a hell fire that burned into very cell of my fucking body. My mind was already planning a Return that nobody would be ready for.
I was sent away to break but I returned to conquer. I have returned with a crown in my reach and a soul made of obsidian dark, sharp, and utterly unbreakable. They tried to bury me; they only taught me how to rule the dark. I am no longer the boy they exiled—I am the consequence of their mistake.
I stepped closer, my shadow looming over his frozen image. Creasing the glass of the final frame more delicately, my voice dropping to a dark, possessive whisper that vibrated in the empty room.
"I am back to make everything right," I promised the silence. "Mistakes can only be made once. And now, my Angel... you have nowhere left to escape. You will be exactly where you belong in no time... With me, standing beside me like my other half."
My eyes flashed.
"YOU ARE IN ME. YOU ARE A PART OF ME, INSEPARABLE."
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Why was he sent... What did he do that caused him The Shekhawat's Crown Prince of a nation to leave for a decade. Wanna know than add to your library for daily updates.