The next morning dawned grey and restless, clouds hanging low like unspoken omens. The Kothari mansion was eerily quiet — the kind of silence that comes after too much chaos, when even the walls seem afraid to breathe.
Vihaan emerged from his room, his movements precise, his expression unreadable. A black shirt, dark glasses, and that cold aura that no longer belonged to the Vihaan Gauri once knew — only the echo of Sarvansh Raj lingered in his eyes. Without glancing at anyone, he strode across the marble hall, stepped outside, and slipped behind the wheel of his sleek car.
The engine roared to life, cutting through the silence. Dust and dry leaves scattered in his wake as he sped down the long driveway and out through the iron gates.
From the balcony above, Gauri watched him go — her eyes burning, her heart an aching storm. Then she whispered to herself, a fierce resolve glinting through her pain.
"Vihaan… you fell for the bait."
She turned swiftly, her red dupatta brushing past the railing as she descended the stairs. Moments later, her car screeched out of the mansion gates, trailing him like a shadow.
The road stretched ahead, winding through the misty morning. Vihaan's car cut through the fog, and behind him, Gauri followed — determined, unblinking, her grip steady on the wheel.
"You'll lead me to the Maan Kalash yourself," she murmured under her breath, eyes fixed on the taillights disappearing ahead.
And with that, the two cars raced into the fading horizon — one fleeing with secrets, the other chasing with unbreakable love.
The sun glimmered over the smooth stretch of the highway as Yuvaan's black car glided forward, slicing through the wind with effortless grace. Kiara sat beside him, her scarf gently fluttering from the half-open window. The rhythm of the wheels, the hum of the engine — everything felt deceptively calm.
But her mind was anything but calm. Chandrika's words replayed in her head — "Every newlywed couple must visit the ancestral temple…"
Her heart clenched as memories overlapped — the forced wedding, the crimson fire in Yuvaan's eyes, his cruel smirk, and the realization that he wasn't just a man, but a warlock… a being born of shadows.
She turned slightly, studying his profile. Yuvaan looked impossibly serene, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually, his golden ring glinting in the daylight.
"Sweetheart," he said suddenly, catching her off guard, "where's your attention?"
Kiara blinked, straightening in her seat. "Aren't you supposed to be some kind of demon lord?" she asked, her tone cautious yet edged with curiosity.
Yuvaan smirked without looking at her. "Yes. Why?"
"Then why did you agree to visit the temple," she pressed, "when demons aren't supposed to be able to enter one?"
He chuckled softly, eyes still on the road. "I'm different."
Kiara frowned. "Different how?"
He finally turned his gaze toward her — those dark, compelling eyes flickering with an emotion she couldn't name. "I can contain the pain and enter a temple," he said calmly, "but there's a price. I lose my powers for twelve hours."
Kiara's breath caught. "Twelve hours? Then why… why would you want to go through that?"
The faintest smile curved on his lips, almost tender this time. "Two reasons," he said. "First — because Moti Baa wanted it."
She hesitated. "And the second?"
He looked at her again, voice low, almost vulnerable. "Because I want to strengthen our bond."
The words hung in the air like a spell — heavy, impossible to ignore. Kiara turned her face toward the window, the scenery blurring past, her heartbeat strangely loud.
For the first time, she wondered if beneath his darkness… there was something human after all.
The highway stretched endlessly under a pale, bruised sky. Wind whipped through the trees, bending their branches as Vihaan's black car cut through the lonely road, its tires humming against the asphalt. The world seemed suspended between dawn and day — silent, uneasy.
Suddenly, a deafening crack split the air.
A massive tree, its roots ripped from the earth, came crashing down across the road. The car screeched to a halt, smoke curling from the tires as the trunk blocked the way completely.
A few seconds later, Gauri's car appeared from behind. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw the wreck ahead. Slamming on the brakes, she flung the door open and ran, her dupatta billowing wildly in the wind.
"Vihaan!" she shouted, voice trembling with panic. "Vihaan, are you alright?"
She reached the car, yanking open the driver's side door — but the seat was empty. No trace of him. Only the faint echo of his scent lingered in the air.
Her pulse quickened. "Vihaan?" she whispered again, turning frantically—
A hand suddenly tapped her shoulder.
Gauri gasped and spun around too fast, her foot slipping on the gravel. The world tilted, the wind roared—until a strong hand caught her mid-fall.
She froze.
Sarvansh—Vihaan—stood before her, his dark eyes gleaming under the muted light. His grip was firm around her wrist, pulling her close until her breath hitched against his chest. The faintest smirk curved his lips as her dupatta brushed against his face.
For a heartbeat, neither spoke. The silence stretched between them—dangerous, magnetic, unspoken.
Gauri's gaze locked with his, her pulse drumming against the sound of rustling leaves.
"Vihaan…" she whispered, half in disbelief, half in yearning.
He leaned closer, his breath ghosting against her ear. "Still chasing me, Jalpanchi?"
Their eyes met again—storm meeting fire—caught in a moment that felt both eternal and fleeting.