A deceptively serene smile graced Professor Ragini Malhotra's face as she observed the student quad from her balcony perch. To any onlooker, she was a picture of academic contemplation. But beneath the calm exterior, a dark and triumphant plan was unfolding. Her fingers absently twisted the simple silver ring she wore—the precious artifact that masked her true, malevolent nature, presenting only a benign aura to the world.
"A clever little ring", the thought purred in her mind. Vikram Shetty, you've slain so many of my sisters, yet you never sensed the viper in your nest. Too busy hunting monsters in the dark to see one standing in your staff room in the light. Her gaze, sharp and predatory, swept over the students before landing on a particular girl laughing with her friends. A different, more personal plan began to crystalize. "The God-Gift is here, hiding somewhere. I will find her. But first… first, I will make you suffer, Hunter. Corrupting your precious daughter will be a sweeter revenge than any quick kill. Let's see if you can lift your sacred weapon against your own flesh and blood."
Her lips moved almost imperceptibly, whispering words of power. On the ground below, directly in Kiara Shetty's path, an intricate witch circle flared to life—a pulsating trap of dark energy invisible to any mortal eye.
Unseen, from a higher terrace, a pair of keen eyes observed the entire scene. Yuvaan Pratap Singh leaned casually against a pillar, his expression unreadable, but his mind was a whirlwind of calculation.
"Fascinating", his inner voice remarked with cold amusement. "This daayan's petty vengeance against Vikram might actually serve my purpose. She's so blinded by her need for revenge that she's targeting the one asset I need pristine. She could undo all my careful work. And yet… she's also handing me the perfect chance to play the hero. How very convenient."
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Inside his office, Vikram Shetty suddenly stiffened in his chair. A familiar, chilling sensation—the unmistakable tingle of active dark magic—crawled up his spine. It was close. Dangerously so. He burst from his office, his hunter's instincts screaming. His eyes desperately scanned the campus, trying to pinpoint the source of the malignant energy, but the aura was diffuse, cleverly concealed.
His blood ran cold as his gaze landed on his daughter. Kiara, laughing and oblivious, was steps away from a patch of ground that felt utterly wrong to his trained senses. A witch circle! But who had cast it? His eyes darted across the crowded campus—students, faculty, nothing seemed out of place. The caster was hidden, and his daughter was in immediate danger.
"Kiara! Stop!" he yelled, already sprinting, his heart a frantic drum in his chest. But he was too far.
Distracted by her father's shout, Kiara turned. In that moment of confusion, her foot lifted for a final, fateful step that would bring it down squarely in the center of the invisible snare.
But the step never landed. A strong hand shot out, yanking Kiara backward with decisive force. She stumbled, her world tilting, and fell not onto the cursed ground, but against a solid, warm chest.
Dazed, her eyes fluttered open and locked with a pair of dark, knowing ones. Yuvaan.
He held her securely, his grasp firm. A collective gasp rippled through the quad, followed by the immediate click of smartphone cameras. Whispers erupted, buzzing with excitement about the dramatic rescue and the undeniable, electric chemistry between the college princess and the enigmatic new heartthrob.
Vikram skidded to a halt, his relief that Kiara was safe warring with a fresh wave of suspicion. He looked from his daughter in Yuvaan's arms to the now-inert patch of ground, and then his eyes scanned the balconies and windows, searching for a face, a flicker of darkness—any clue to the enemy who had been right under his nose. He saw nothing but ordinary faces. The hunter had been outmaneuvered, and the new student had been the one to save the day. The situation was more dangerous than he had ever imagined.
For a long moment, the world narrowed to the space between their gazes. Kiara's wide, confused eyes were locked with Yuvaan's dark, unreadable ones. The solid warmth of his chest against her back, the firm grip of his hands on her arms—it was all too much, and yet, for a heartbeat, it felt strangely… safe.
The spell was broken by the rising tide of student chatter. Whispers, giggles, and the unmistakable sound of camera clicks snapped reality back into place. Flushing, Kiara pushed herself upright, and Yuvaan released her with a slow, deliberate grace, as if he had all the time in the world.
As he stood, his gaze flickered—so fast only a trained eye would have caught it—toward the spot where Kiara had almost stepped. A mere secretive glance, a silent command from the Warlock King. The invisible witch circle dissolved, its dark energy snuffing out like a candle flame, leaving behind only ordinary, sun-warmed concrete.
"Hey!" Kiara found her voice, a mix of embarrassment and irritation coloring her cheeks. "What the fudge, Yuvaan? Why did you pull me like that?"
Before he could answer, Vikram reached them, his face pale, his breathing slightly labored from his sprint. He grabbed Kiara's shoulders, his eyes scanning her frantically. "Kiara! Beta, are you okay? Are you hurt?"
Kiara, now thoroughly confused, looked from her panicked father to the infuriatingly calm Yuvaan. "I'm fine, Dad! Why are you yelling? Why did you come running out here calling my name?"
Vikram's mind raced, scrambling for a cover. He couldn't tell her about the dark magic, the invisible trap, the hidden enemy. His eyes darted around, still searching for the source he could no longer feel. "I… I had a short nap in my office," he stammered, the lie tasting bitter. "I had a terrifying dream about you… that you were in danger. I woke up and saw you and I just… I ran."
Kiara's expression softened from confusion to mild exasperation. She patted his arm reassuringly. "Oh, Pops. It was just a dream. See?" She gestured to herself, whole and unharmed. "I'm okay. Everything's fine. You need to chill."
Over her shoulder, her eyes met Yuvaan's again. He offered a slight, enigmatic shrug, as if to say, See? I told you so. But beneath the casual gesture, his mind was working. Vikram's "dream" was a hunter's instinct, a reaction to the dark magic he'd sensed. The principal was on high alert, but he was blind. And a blind hunter was a predictable one.
Yuvaan had not only saved his pawn but had also successfully positioned himself as the visible, charming variable in an equation where the real threat remained hidden. The game was advancing perfectly.