Lashirah_Hash

They called it blasphemy.
A sin against God.
A disgrace against blood.

The news headlines twisted her name like a curse.
Muslim Girl Marries Two Brothers in Secret Ceremony.
Father Disowns Daughter Over Immoral Union.
Religious Extremists and Feminists Clash in Street Protests.

But none of them knew the truth.

Not the journalists who stalked her outside the courthouse.
Not the clerics who spat fire from the pulpit.
Not the activists who used her face for posters, never asking if she even agreed with them.

They didn’t know about the long nights with one brother’s rage burning her skin—and the other’s cold touch wrapping around her heart like barbed wire.

They didn’t know how it started—not with love, but with survival.

They didn’t know that once, she believed in God more than anything.
And now?

Now, she stood in front of a grave with no name.
Black veil pulled tight.
A Qur’an in her hand.
Two wedding rings on her finger.

Behind her, they stood—her husbands.
One with blood on his hands.
The other with secrets behind his eyes.

She would never be the same girl again.
But she was still alive.
Still burning.

And if the world wanted a monster?

She would give them on

BETWEEN GOD AND THE MONSTERS

The air between them was like a match waiting to be struck.

Silas opened the door to find Lucien leaning against the rail, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his expression unreadable.

He hadn't looked this calm since their father's funeral.

The door shut behind them like a warning.

They stood in the small apartment's kitchen, two men with the same blood and very different sins.

"And you thought that was enough?"

"I didn't think anything, Silas. I was too busy trying not to feel."

The laugh that came from Silas was anything but amused. "Well, you've always been better at that than me."

Lucien ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't plan for this to happen."

"No," Silas said bitterly. "You just slept with the girl I was going to marry. The girl I loved."

"She came to me broken. You left her space to break."

Silas stepped forward, jaw tight. "You think that justifies anything?"

"No," Lucien said simply. "It doesn't."

They stared at each other. Two versions of the same pain mirrored in different hearts.

"Is it yours?" Silas asked, voice lower now.

"And if it's mine?" Silas whispered.

Lucien looked away. "Then I'll walk away."

Then Silas whispered, "She's not a possession, Lucien."

Silas's hand balled into a fist. "What if she keeps the baby?"

Lucien met his eyes again. "Then we raise it. Together."

Lucien didn't answer at first. Then, slowly:

"I've already tasted heaven in her. You think I can go back to earth?"

Silas closed his eyes. The words hit like a confession and a curse.

And no matter who the father was…

Aaliyah sat at the edge of her bed that night, knees drawn to her chest, holding her breath as the weight of everything crept in.

Like ghosts stitched into her skin.

And inside her now… a life was growing.

A life born not just from lust or love,

but from the chaos of two men and one heart too fragile to choose.

Brothers And Bloodlines