For a suspended moment, their breath mingled in the cold air. Kiara's palm was flat against the firm, warm skin of Yuvaan's chest, feeling the steady, unnerving rhythm of his heartbeat. His hand came up, his fingers gently tracing a line along her hair, his dark eyes dropping to her lips as he began to lean in.
Just before their lips could meet, Kiara's senses snapped back. She turned her face away and pushed firmly against his chest. "Not so fast, Mr. Villain."
A slow, unbothered smile touched Yuvaan's lips. He didn't fight her, instead rising to his feet with his usual fluid grace. Kiara scrambled up beside him, brushing dust from her clothes with brisk, irritated motions.
Yuvaan elegantly dusted off his sleeves. "I'm curious," he began, his tone laced with mock innocence. "You stated so emphatically that you don't believe in ghosts. So why, pray tell, did you get so scared?"
"Because you caught me off guard, you idiot!" Kiara retorted, her cheeks flushed. She reached out and smacked his arm. "It was a bad prank. Don't do that again."
"Okay, okay," Yuvaan conceded, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender, though his eyes still sparkled with triumph. He had gotten the reaction he wanted.
---
In another wing of the palace, the air grew thick and cold. Mishka, who had been quietly observing their surroundings, suddenly went rigid. She threw an arm out, stopping Angad in his tracks.
"We need to turn back. Now," she said, her voice low and urgent.
"Huh? Why? Did you see something?" Angad asked, his bravado from earlier beginning to crack.
"Just trust me. We shouldn't be here," Mishka insisted, her gaze fixed on the oppressive darkness ahead of them. She began pulling him back the way they came.
As they turned, a skeletal, rotted hand emerged soundlessly from a fissure in the wall, its bony fingers reaching for the oblivious Angad's shoulder.
Mishka didn't even turn her head. Her long braid, as if with a mind of its own, snaked through the air behind her. It struck the decaying hand with a sharp, whip-like crack, though it made no audible sound. The hand recoiled instantly, vanishing back into the shadows.
Angad, completely unaware of the silent, supernatural intervention that had just saved him, simply followed her lead, his heart pounding for reasons he couldn't quite explain.
Deep within the bowels of the palace, in a chamber untouched by sunlight and thick with the scent of decay, Professor Ragini stood before a spectral figure. A woman sat on a rusted, rolling chair, her form shrouded in tattered robes, her face completely obscured by a curtain of long, lank hair.
"It is done," Ragini's voice cut through the silence, cold and purposeful. "I have brought her to you. The daughter of your enemy. The Reeva Hunter who has slain enough of our kind."
She took a step closer, her eyes gleaming with vengeful fire. "Vikram Shetty took everything from you, Manjulika. Now, I offer you a chance to return the favor. I want you to kill his daughter."
At her words, the air grew colder. A skeletal, rotted hand emerged from the woman's sleeve and slowly, deliberately, pushed the greasy strands of hair away from her face.
The revealed visage was a nightmare. The skin was stretched taut over bone, mottled with decay, and her eyes were milky white pools of pure malice. Her lips peeled back in a gruesome smile, revealing a mouth of jagged, blackened teeth.
Ragini did not flinch. Instead, a slow, triumphant smirk spread across her own face. The pact was sealed in the silent understanding between two vengeful spirits—one living, one dead. The hunt for Kiara Shetty had officially begun within the palace walls.
The heavy silence of the palace corridor was broken only by their footsteps and the tense rhythm of their conversation.
"Back there," Kiara began, her voice sharp with a mix of accusation and flustered confusion. "Why did you try to kiss me?"
Yuvaan didn't even break his stride, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. "The moment was such," he replied, his tone infuriatingly matter-of-fact. "We were close. The cold winds were blowing, our heartbeats were merging in the silence... what could be more perfect?" He finally glanced at her, a glint in his eyes. "It was an opportunity, and I simply took it."
Kiara stopped walking, turning to face him fully. "Unbelievable," she stated, her hands on her hips. "You are not only a villain but a complete rascal."
"You know what?" Yuvaan stopped as well, turning to face her with a challenging look. "Stop pretending. I could feel your hand on my chest." He took a deliberate step closer, his voice dropping. "And you didn't seem to want to let go."
A flush crept up Kiara's neck, but she held her ground, her gaze unwavering. "Don't flatter yourself," she retorted. "I am not like the other girls who swoon at your every move. I'm not easily fascinated by a guy, especially not a mysterious and obviously troublesome one like you."
Her words were defiant, but in the dim light, the rapid pulse at the base of her throat betrayed her. The game between them was far from over; in fact, with every charged exchange, the stakes were only getting higher