Alone in the quiet of her room, Kiara found her mind drifting back to the palace. Not to the fear, but to the moments that followed—the solid warmth of Yuvaan's chest against her cheek, the surprising gentleness of his hands in her hair, the low murmur of his voice calming her storm. A flutter, unfamiliar and unsettling, stirred in her stomach.
She picked up her now-charged phone, her thumb hovering over the screen. She opened her contacts and entered a number she had never used but had not deleted either—the one Anya had gigglingly forced into her phone "just in case." Taking a breath, she typed a simple message.
Kiara: Hi
---
Across the city, Yuvaan lounged in his marble bathtub, steam curling around him. His head was tilted back, eyes closed as his hand moved rhythmically beneath the water's surface. The sharp beep of his phone on the ledge broke his concentration. With a faint sigh of annoyance, he reached for the device, water dripping from his wrist. An unknown number.
Yuvaan: Who is this?
He watched the typing indicator appear—three dancing dots that held his attention completely. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips even before her reply came.
Kiara: Thanks for earlier.
The smirk widened. He didn't need a saved contact to recognize her.
Yuvaan: Oh, Kiru. So you do have my number.
The typing indicator appeared again, bouncing with what he imagined was flustered energy.
Kiara: Anya forced me to save it! I wasn't going to text you!
Yuvaan: Of course she did. And if you want to thank me properly, texting won't cut it. Face to face. Tomorrow at college.
He waited, the predator patiently watching the typing indicator start and stop as his prey considered the bait.
Kiara: Fine. Tomorrow.
The response came quickly, followed immediately by another message.
Kiara: Goodnight. ❤️
Yuvaan's eyebrows rose, a genuine, triumphant smile spreading across his face. He could almost feel her panic through the screen when the typing indicator flashed once more.
Kiara: OMG THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT! I DIDN'T MEAN TO SEND THE HEART!
He chuckled, low and soft, his earlier frustration forgotten.
Yuvaan: It's okay. Don't be shy. The feeling is mutual. Goodnight, Kiru.
In her room, Kiara stared at the screen, his final message searing into her mind. The feeling is mutual. Her cheeks flushed a deep, warm red. She buried her face in her pillow, a whirlwind of confusion and a strange, giddy excitement warring inside her.
Kiara: Night night.
She put the phone down, her heart beating a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The villain was no longer just an infuriating mystery outside her door; he was now a thrilling, undeniable presence in the palm of her hand.
The secret basement was steeped in the scent of old knowledge and fresh anxiety. Vikram paced before the ancient tomes, his face a grim mask in the flickering lamplight. Varun stood by the stone table, his arms crossed, the weight of their failed test heavy in the air.
"We are dealing with something far beyond our usual prey, Varun," Vikram stated, his voice low and urgent. "The Reeva dust... it should have scorched the flesh of any dark creature. Yet he sat there, untouched. Mocking us with that mosquito charade."
He stopped his pacing and turned to his son, his eyes burning with a father's desperate resolve. "We need answers, and we need them now. The traditional methods have failed us. We must use every tool at our disposal."
He placed his hands firmly on the table, leaning forward. "Your connection with Riddhi Pratap Singh... it is no longer just a coincidence. It is an opportunity. You must exploit it. Get closer to her. Gain her trust. Learn everything you can about Yuvaan—his habits, his history, his weaknesses. Anything she knows, no matter how trivial it seems, could be the key."
Varun met his father's gaze, a flicker of conflict in his eyes. He remembered Riddhi's blush, the easy way they had fallen back into conversation. Using her felt... wrong. But the image of his unconscious sister being carried by that smirking stranger hardened his resolve.
"I understand, Father," Varun said, his voice steady. "I'll do what needs to be done."
"Good," Vikram nodded, a grim satisfaction in his tone. "While you work on the girl, I will delve deeper." He gestured to the shelves groaning with ancient texts. "There must be a way to identify what he is. A creature powerful enough to mask its aura completely, to be immune to our protections... he cannot be just a human. I will find the lore that reveals his true nature."
A silent pact was forged in the dim basement. The hunter and his apprentice were splitting their forces: one to pursue the heart of the enemy's family, the other to scour the forgotten wisdom of their own. The hunt for the truth about Yuvaan Pratap Singh had officially begun.