The faint blush of dawn crept through the curtains, painting the room in muted gold. Kiara stood near the window, her hands resting weakly against the sill as the first rays kissed her pale face. Her eyes were hollow from tears, but her heart still ached — a dull, endless ache that words couldn't ease.
Her gaze drifted toward the horizon where the sun was rising, serene yet cruel, reminding her that another day had begun — one without her mother, one heavy with truths she never wished to know.
A sudden wave of dizziness hit her. The world around her blurred. She swayed unsteadily — and before she could fall, a firm hand caught her.
"Kiara," Yuvaan's voice broke softly through the silence. His arms steadied her trembling frame, his eyes wide with worry. "You haven't eaten anything since last night. Sit down, please."
But she shook her head, stubborn tears sliding down her cheeks. "No… I'm fine," she whispered weakly. "Just leave me alone."
"Don't say that." Yuvaan's voice faltered, guilt etched in every word. "Everything you've suffered… all of it leads back to me. If the dark clan hadn't feared Jishwa's reincarnation… if I wasn't what I am… they wouldn't have come after your mother."
Kiara looked up at him through her tears. "I always knew my mother's death wasn't an accident," she said brokenly. "But I was too young. I used to see glimpses of that day in my dreams — fire, shadows, her scream — and I'd wake up thinking they were just nightmares." Her lips trembled. "I didn't know they were memories."
She covered her face with her palms, sobbing quietly. "All these years… I thought it was my imagination. I never thought those shadows were real."
Yuvaan knelt before her, gently taking her hands away from her face. "Kiara," he said, his tone low but firm. "You can't break now. You're the one who held me together when I was falling apart. You saw light in me when I couldn't see anything but darkness. Don't let that strength fade now."
He paused, eyes glistening. "I used to think love was only for humans — fragile, foolish, temporary. But then you came into my life, and everything changed. You taught me that even a demon can crave warmth."
His voice broke into a whisper. "Give me a chance, Kiara. Just one chance… to experience love the way you see it. I can't erase your pain, but I can promise — I'll fill every empty space in your heart until it no longer hurts."
Kiara's lips parted, but no words came. Instead, she threw her arms around him, sobbing against his chest. His embrace tightened — protective, trembling, and full of unspoken emotion. For a moment, time stood still. Two souls, once burdened by destiny, found solace in each other's arms.
After a long silence, Yuvaan gently pulled back. His crimson eyes softened as he wiped her tears with his thumb. "It's already morning," he murmured with a faint smile. "Seems our Karva Chauth will be a little different this year."
Kiara blinked through her tears, confused. "What do you mean?"
He lifted a silver plate from the nearby table — her sargi, untouched from the night before. "Instead of seeing the moon," he said softly, "we'll break your fast under the sun."
Kiara's heart fluttered. Despite everything — the sorrow, the revelations, the wounds — a fragile smile curved on her lips. Together, they stepped onto the balcony.
The golden sunlight shimmered over them as Yuvaan handed her the channi. Kiara raised it, her hands trembling, but her gaze through the sieve fell upon Yuvaan — not a demon, not a king of evil… just the man her heart had chosen.
As the sunlight framed his face, she whispered her silent prayer — not for longevity, but for togetherness.
Yuvaan took the glass of water from the tray and gently lifted it to her lips. "Now," he said softly, "your fast is broken."
Kiara drank, her eyes never leaving his. The warmth of the water felt like the warmth of his love — slow, healing, real.
For the first time after the storm, there was peace.
Not the peace of silence… but the peace of two broken hearts learning to breathe again.
The warmth of the rising sun still lingered on their hands as Kiara and Yuvaan stood together, silently drawing strength from each other's presence. But before either could speak, a frantic voice echoed through the hallway.
"Yuvaan! Kiara!"
Both turned sharply. Riddhi stood at the doorway, her face pale, her breath uneven. "Yuvaan… Aunt Bhoomi—" she gasped.
The world around him froze. Without another word, Yuvaan and Kiara ran past her, the sound of their hurried footsteps echoing through the mansion's long corridor.
They burst into Bhoomi's room, where the entire family had already gathered — faces stricken with fear and confusion. Bhoomi lay on the bed, her body trembling violently, eyes half-open, lips whispering words no one could understand.
Vikram immediately bent beside her, pressing his fingers to her wrist, then to her forehead. His expression darkened. "Her pulse is erratic," he murmured. "The sigil… it's burning through her brain. Slowly."
"No…" Yuvaan's voice cracked as he knelt by his mother's side. He took her hand in both of his, tears stinging his eyes. "Maa… please, look at me." Bhoomi's fingers twitched weakly, her lips moving as though trying to call his name.
Chandrika stepped forward, trembling with rage. "That witch," she hissed. "Taamsi must have done this deliberately — she wants to break you, Yuvaan. To force you into accepting her offer."
"Her offer to what?" Kiara asked sharply, though she already feared the answer.
Mishka swallowed hard. "The dark stronghold," she said quietly. "Taamsi wants Yuvaan to claim it. It's the only way to awaken its powers."
Yuvaan shook his head fiercely. "No. I will not give her what she wants," he said, his eyes blazing. "I won't let darkness win again — not at the cost of my mother."
Vikram rose slowly, his tone steady yet grave. "You might not have to."
Everyone turned toward him.
"There is another way," he said, his gaze fixed on Yuvaan. "A way that doesn't involve the dark stronghold."
Yuvaan's voice was hoarse. "What way?"
Vikram looked directly into his eyes. "The Amrit Kalash."
The room fell silent. Even the wind outside seemed to stop.
Yuvaan's eyes widened, and Kiara felt a chill crawl down her spine at the sound of that sacred name — a relic of legend, a vessel said to contain the divine elixir that could cleanse even the darkest soul.
As Bhoomi's breathing grew faint, Yuvaan's grip on her hand tightened. Between his duty as a son and the curse of his bloodline, a storm raged within him.
And somewhere, far beyond the mansion's walls, Taamsi's laughter echoed through the dark winds — as if she already knew the game was far from over.
To be continued…