The Grand Hall hummed with anticipation as Chandrika motioned for Yuvaan and Kiara to step forward. Her eyes softened, yet held a commanding warmth, as if the weight of the house itself rested in her gaze.
"Sit," she instructed gently, guiding them onto the ornate chairs at the center of the hall. The polished wood gleamed under the chandelier lights, reflecting the gravity of the moment.
As Kiara and Yuvaan settled, a hush fell. Chandrika carefully took the kumkum and, with practiced grace, applied tilak on their foreheads. Her hands trembled only slightly—not from age, but from the joy of witnessing the union of her grandson with a girl she could see was strong and true.
"May your bond be blessed for seven lifetimes," she intoned, her voice steady, powerful, yet filled with tenderness. "May your hearts remain steadfast, and may you always protect each other, through darkness and light."
Kiara's mind briefly drifted, recalling the unpleasant, forced wedding—the fear, the blackmail, the helplessness. Her fingers subconsciously clenched the hem of her gown. Yuvaan, too, felt a pang of guilt and remembrance, the shadow of their first encounter hanging briefly between them. Yet here, under Chandrika's watchful eyes, those shadows seemed less oppressive.
Chandrika opened a small velvet box and drew out ancestral gold bangles, their intricate designs telling stories of generations past. "Kiara, these are yours now. May they remind you always of the strength, love, and legacy you carry."
Kiara's fingers trembled as she accepted them, the cold gold warming instantly in her palm. She felt the weight of history, love, and duty settle around her wrists.
Then Chandrika turned to Yuvaan, a glint of mischief dancing in her stern eyes. "And you, Yuvi… wear them on her behalf. Protect her, cherish her, and remember what these signify."
Yuvaan lifted Kiara's wrist and carefully slid the bangles onto her arm. The touch was light but electrifying; their eyes met in a brief, intense eye lock, speaking volumes that words could never capture. In that moment, the hall melted away—the awkwardness of their first wedding, the blackmail, the fear—all dissolved into something quiet, unspoken, and irrevocably binding.
Chandrika's smile widened as she observed them, knowing that even amidst darkness, the seeds of a true union were beginning to take root.
Deep within the jagged cliffs on the outskirts of the city, Vikram and Varun stood at the mouth of the Cave of Answers. Water dripped from the stalactites, echoing through the cavern like whispers of long-forgotten secrets. The air was thick with an otherworldly energy, the kind that made even the most steadfast heart skip a beat.
"We need answers," Vikram said, his voice firm but edged with desperation. "How can we weaken the Warlock? How can we save Kiara?"
The cave trembled, and a waterfall at the far end shimmered unnaturally, light dancing across the spray like liquid stars. Slowly, the water parted, forming a shape—an ethereal visage, both ancient and wise. Its voice resonated in their minds rather than their ears, deep and commanding.
"No one, no mortal or demon, can weaken the Warlock," the waterfall intoned, droplets cascading like a celestial chorus. "Only the divine can stand against him, only the pure of heart can confront the darkness within him."
Varun's fists clenched, frustration flashing across his face. "Then how do we protect Kiara? How do we fight him?"
The waterfall shimmered brighter, revealing more than just water—symbols etched in golden light appeared on the stone walls, and the voice continued:
"If the Warlock dares to step into a temple of the divine, he shall be stripped of his dark powers for twelve hours. In that time, he shall walk as a human, vulnerable as any man. Only then can he be defeated, only then can the chains of darkness be broken."
Vikram's eyes narrowed, determination overtaking his worry. "So there is a way… but it's risky. He must be lured into a temple, and we must strike before his powers return."
Varun nodded, the weight of the revelation settling heavily on his shoulders. "Twelve hours. That's all we get. We can't waste a single moment."
The cave fell silent again, the waterfall resuming its natural cascade, leaving father and son alone with the knowledge that the Warlock, despite his might, had a weakness—a fleeting window that could change everything.
Pratap Singh mansion
Chandrika's voice resonated through the grand hall. "Every newlywed couple of our family performs the ritual of visiting our ancestral temple. The husband carries his wife up the sacred steps as a symbol of protection and unity."
Kiara's hands tightened around her scarf. She hadn't yet recovered from the shock of her forced marriage, the betrayals, and the strange hold Yuvaan seemed to have over her. The ritual, though traditional and solemn, filled her with a tangle of anxiety and unease.
Yuvaan, standing beside her in his usual commanding black attire, glanced at her with a small, unreadable smile. "Shall we?" he asked, his tone casual, but the intensity in his gaze made Kiara pause.
Chandrika continued, "The temple is located on the outskirts of the city. Only the couple will go, and you will return once the ritual is complete. No one else will accompany you. It is a private tradition, and it must be respected."
Yuvaan's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Perfect," he murmured, "just the two of us."
Kiara's stomach fluttered—not with excitement, but tension. The idea of venturing alone with the man who had forced her into a marriage she hadn't chosen made her uneasy.
She glanced at him cautiously. "We're really going there… just the two of us?"
He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, though the weight of his gaze made her shiver. "As Moti Baa wishes," he said smoothly. "We follow the tradition, nothing more, nothing less."
Stepping outside, the bright daylight reflected off the mansion's walls, and the bustling city seemed distant already. Yuvaan and Kiara walks over to a sleek black car, Kiara kept her eyes forward, bracing herself for the journey to the temple and the ritual that awaited—unaware of the hidden truths about Yuvaan that lay ahead.