Kiara's hands trembled as she threw another silk drape across the room. Tears streamed freely down her face, her sobs breaking through her furious voice. "You… you played with my feelings!" she cried, her words jagged and raw. "Everything… every single moment… was it all just a lie? Were you… were you a monster toying with me?"
Yuvaan's chest tightened, a pang of guilt stabbing at him. For a fleeting second, his mask cracked, and he felt the weight of the pain he had caused her—the betrayal, the heartbreak, the forced wedding that should never have happened.
But just as quickly, he suppressed it, letting the practiced nonchalance wash over him. He leaned casually against the edge of the bed, hands in his pockets, and gave a low, almost teasing sigh. "Monster?" he murmured, tilting his head. "Sweetheart… I can see why you'd think that. From your perspective, I suppose it does look that way."
Kiara's sobs intensified. "You don't even care, do you? You don't care that you've broken me!"
Yuvaan stepped closer, his voice softening, though he kept the calm façade. "Care?" he said, letting a small, almost invisible flicker of his true feelings pass through. "Of course I care. But crying, screaming… it won't change what's done. It won't change the bond we share now."
Kiara recoiled, shaking her head violently. "Bond? You mean this forced, cursed thing you've trapped me in? You—YOU—don't know what love is! You don't even know what it feels like to care for someone without using them!"
Yuvaan's gaze softened for the briefest moment, and he swallowed hard. Then, with an almost cruel calmness, he shrugged and said, "Maybe I don't. But I do know one thing—no one else matters to me the way you do. You… you're the one who has me. Whether you believe it or not, sweetheart, whether you call me a monster or not… that doesn't change a thing."
Kiara flinched at his words, anger and heartbreak twisting in her chest. She wanted to scream, to hit, to reject him, yet the truth in his voice—however masked—made her heart ache in ways she couldn't explain.
Kiara's trembling hand clutched the fruit knife, tears blinding her. "It's… it's better than living with you!" she choked out, her voice raw with anguish. Every heartbeat was a storm of betrayal, fear, and hopelessness.
Before she could act, Yuvaan's hand shot out, gripping her wrist with a force that left no room for struggle. The knife clattered to the floor, sliding across the polished wood. "Are you mad?" he demanded, his voice sharp but threaded with concern. "Are you really going to kill yourself?"
Kiara shook her head violently, sobs rattling her frame. "I… I can't… I can't live like this! You… you trapped me, you forced me… I can't breathe!"
Yuvaan crouched down, his dark eyes locking onto hers, intensity softened by a rare glimmer of genuine emotion. "Yes, you hate me," he said quietly, almost pleading, "but think about your dad. Your brother. They love you. They risked everything to protect you. And you… you didn't even think before trying to take the very life they would give theirs to save."
Kiara's knees buckled, and she collapsed into his arms, her sobs breaking free. She clung to him, not in love, but in sheer, helpless despair. "I… I can't… I can't…" she repeated, each word a shuddering whisper.
Yuvaan held her tightly, murmuring under his breath, "Shh… it's okay… I won't let you do this. You're stronger than you think, even if you can't see it right now."
Her tears soaked his shirt as her body trembled in grief, frustration, and fear. For the first time, Kiara wasn't thinking about betrayal or anger—she was just a broken girl, and he was the only anchor keeping her from falling completely apart.
Deep within the dense jungle, the air grew heavy and still. A shiver of unnatural cold ran through the leaves, and the shadows themselves seemed to twist and stretch unnaturally. Then, without warning, a jagged, obsidian-like doorway tore open from the earth—a rift to the Shadow Realm.
Three figures emerged, cloaked in darkness, their forms shifting like smoke and shadow. Their eyes glowed with a deadly crimson, and the faint whisper of ancient chants accompanied each step they took.
"We have come," the first said, voice like broken glass, "to eradicate any possible distraction in the life of Warlock King Kaal."
The second added, "Any element, mortal or supernatural, that could disrupt the Kaal Vansh… will be eliminated."
The third, a figure taller than the others, raised a hand, and the shadows of the jungle writhed around it like living serpents. "We do this not for cruelty," it said coldly, "but for the future of the dynasty. No obstacle, no interference, will be allowed to tarnish the reign of the Kaal."
The leaves rustled violently as the trio began to move forward, their steps leaving frozen patches in the undergrowth. Somewhere deep in the jungle, a faint echo of a scream seemed to answer them, a warning—or perhaps the first victim.
The hunt had begun.