🏹 Pratap Singh Mansion
Kiara wiped her face with the back of her hand, the tremble in her breath slowly steadying. Angad's words still echoed inside her chest—reminders of everything she had fought through… everything she had survived… everything she had saved.
And suddenly, something shifted in her eyes.
A spark.
A determination that refused to die.
She rose to her feet—not fully steady, but stronger than she had been moments ago.
"Enough crying," Kiara whispered, voice cracking but firm. "Yuvaan needs me."
The family looked at her—surprised, relieved, terrified, hopeful all at once.
Kiara inhaled deeply, hands balling into fists.
"We are wasting time searching one or two books," she said, her voice gaining strength. "We need to search all of them. Every Reeva scripture. Every prophecy. Every remedy. Every verse."
She turned to the massive piles of old manuscripts, scrolls, leather-bound texts, and dusty tomes sent long ago by Vikram.
Her eyes hardened.
"If there is even one line… one clue… that can save Yuvaan—I will find it."
Bhoomi nodded quickly, wiping her tears. "Yes, beta. Yes… we'll help."
Angad pushed his hair back, rolling up his sleeves. "Just tell us where to start."
Kiara gestured sharply at the stacks. "Divide the books. Don't skip anything. Even old legends may hide cures."
The family instantly sprang into motion—pulling books to the floor, spreading them across tables, opening pages that crumbled with age. The study room filled with the rustle of paper, the thud of heavy volumes, the soft murmurs of frantic searching.
Kiara paused, turning toward the staircase.
"Moti Baa," she called gently.
The elderly woman looked up, her eyes filled with fear for her great-grandson.
Kiara's voice softened, even through her urgency. "Please… go stay with Kiaan. Don't let him be alone. Keep him close. Keep him safe."
Moti Baa nodded immediately. "Of course, beta. I will not leave him even for a moment."
Kiara swallowed hard, her voice trembling for the first time since she regained her resolve.
"He… he must not cry. Not today. Not when everything is—"
She cut herself off, forcing down the lump in her throat.
"Just stay with him."
Moti Baa touched her cheek tenderly, then hurried away toward the nursery.
As soon as she was gone, Kiara exhaled shakily and turned back to the books—her eyes burning with a fire the family had seen before:
The same fire that once defeated a Maha Daakini.
The same fire that fought curses and demons.
The same fire that protected this family again and again.
Everyone followed her lead, flipping through centuries-old scriptures with urgency and hope.
Kiara slammed one book open and whispered to herself:
"I found Yuvaan once… I will find him again."
Her fingers brushed over ancient runes as the world outside darkened under the growing eclipse—
—and the race against time truly began.
Pages rustled. Old parchment cracked softly under hurried fingers. The family searched with desperate intensity, each of them turning through centuries-old Reeva manuscripts as though the answer might vanish if they blinked too slowly.
Kiara skimmed another brittle page, her eyes burning from exhaustion but refusing to close.
Angad sat across from her, flipping through a thick, leather-bound scripture—one of the oldest Vikram had ever sent them.
His eyes dragged over the text…
And then—
He froze.
Just for a second.
Not long enough for anyone else to notice.
But long enough for Kiara to feel a pinprick of cold dread.
Angad's eyes widened—a hint of shock, then fear, then something he quickly tried to hide. His fingers trembled as they clutched the page.
Before Kiara could speak, he ripped the page out—quietly, swiftly—slipping it into his pocket with a subtle movement.
But Kiara saw.
Her breath hitched.
"Angad?" she asked softly, carefully. "Did you find something?"
He jerked slightly, as if pulled from a trance. "No."
He forced a smile far too quickly. "No, bhabhi, nothing at all. Just… old stories."
Kiara's eyes narrowed, concern awakening in her chest. "Then why do you look pale?"
Angad blinked rapidly. "I—I'm fine. Just tired. Too many books."
Kiara took a slow step toward him, voice low. "Angad… what did you just hide?"
He stiffened, avoiding her gaze. "Nothing. I said it's nothing."
She opened her mouth to question further—but he was already closing the book and standing up abruptly.
"I'll be right back," he said, voice tight. "I—I need some air. It's too much dust here."
He turned to leave.
Kiara's heartbeat kicked harder. Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
She turned to the family who were still engrossed in their texts.
"Keep searching," she instructed, forcing her voice steady. "Don't stop for even a moment."
They nodded, unaware of the tension blooming between the siblings-in-law.
Kiara stepped away from the table, her footsteps careful, quiet.
And with a final glance at the trembling study lamps, she slipped out of the room—
following Angad.
Her mind racing.
Her breath held.
Her fear rising.
Because the look on Angad's face…
It wasn't confusion.
It was terror.
And whatever was written on that ripped page—
could destroy them all.
To be continued.....