The evening of the Lalwani Gala had arrived, and the city was draped in the glittering promise of a glamorous night. But beneath the surface, intentions darker than the night itself were being woven together.
At the Shetty Mansion:
Kiara stood before her mirror, a vision in an elegant gown. Every brush of her hair, every delicate piece of jewelry was chosen with a fluttering anticipation she could no longer deny. She wasn't just preparing for a party; she was preparing to see him.
In a Dimly Lit Apartment:
Professor Ragini Malhotra fastened a sleek, black dress. Her reflection showed a beautiful, sophisticated academic. But her eyes held a cold, murderous glint. Tonight, she thought, applying a dark shade of lipstick, the Reeva hunter's line ends. Kiara Shetty will not leave the gala alive.
At the Pratap Singh Mansion:
Yuvaan adjusted the cuffs of his impeccably tailored black shirt, deliberately cut to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his chest. His reflection showed the perfect picture of a wealthy, disinterested playboy. But his mind was fixed on one goal: the girl who had tied a sacred thread to his wrist without being burned. Tonight, the game would intensify.
In Her Quiet Home:
Mishka slipped into a deceptively simple dress, her movements efficient. Her mission was clear: be Kiara's shadow. Watch Yuvaan. Uncover Ragini's move. The gala was not a celebration for her; it was a battlefield.
Down the Hall from Yuvaan:
Angad fussed with his tie, a nervous excitement bubbling within him. He saw the gala not as a den of supernatural intrigue, but as the perfect, romantic backdrop to finally tell Mishka how he felt and start their relationship.
In the Shetty Basement:
Vikram and Varun checked their concealed, silver-lined weapons. There were no tuxedos for them tonight, only the grim resolve of hunters. "Stay vigilant," Vikram instructed his son. "We do not know what Ragini will attempt, but we will be ready to thwart it."
As limousines began to pull up to the opulent venue, each passenger carried a secret. For some, it was a night of potential love and dance. For others, it was a night of espionage and protection. And for a chosen few, it was a stage set for a long-awaited kill. The gala was about to begin.
---
In the secluded silence of the library, far from the chaos outside, the world had narrowed to the space between their breaths. Yuvaan's shirt lay discarded on a nearby table, his skin warm under Kiara's touch as their kiss deepened, fueled by a passion that had been simmering for weeks.
But as his hands began to wander, a thread of sanity pulled Kiara back. She broke the kiss, her breath coming in soft gasps, and placed a gentle hand on his chest, halting his progress.
"Wait, Yuvaan," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "What… what is this? What are we? I… I need to know. I don't want to rush this. I want us to go slow."
For a heartbeat, Yuvaan's dark eyes held a flicker of something unreadable—impatience, perhaps, or calculation. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by a tender understanding. He leaned in and placed a soft, chaste peck on her lips.
"Okay, Kiru," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. "Slow it is. For you." He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "My feelings for you are real. You have to know that."
A wave of relief and happiness washed over Kiara. "Mine too," she confessed, her heart feeling too full. Overwhelmed by the intensity of her own emotions and the intimacy of the moment, she blushed deeply. "I… I need some air."
She turned and hurried out of the library, a shy smile on her lips, her mind spinning with the joy of their mutual confession.
The moment the door clicked shut, the tender expression melted from Yuvaan's face. A slow, triumphant smirk spread across his lips as he picked up his shirt.
Mission accomplished, he thought. The foundation was laid. Her heart was now undeniably his.
---
Outside, Kiara's joyful daze was shattered by the scene before her. The gala was in chaos—guests screaming, crows screeching, and unbeknownst to her,her father and brother locked in a magical battle on the balcony with a terrifying, transformed Professor Ragini.
Ragini yanked the silver arrow from her shoulder, the wound sizzling shut before their eyes. "Fools! I am no ordinary Daayan!" she boasted, hurling a bolt of dark energy that forced Vikram and Varun to dive for cover. Her eyes scanned the panicking crowd below, fury mounting. "Where is she? Where is that little—"
Her search for Kiara was interrupted by another volley of enchanted arrows.
Kiara stood frozen, her romantic bubble violently popped, the terrifying reality of her world crashing back in. The passionate confession in the library now felt like a distant, fragile dream in the face of the nightmare unfolding before her.
---