The room felt heavy, thick with fear and the sound of muffled sobs. Yuvaan lay motionless on the bed, his skin paling, breaths uneven… each one weaker than the last. Kiara knelt beside him, holding his hand so tightly her knuckles whitened.
Vikram exhaled shakily, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Kiara… listen to me," he said, voice low, steadying itself despite the terror in his eyes. "It's not easy to kill a Kalapishachi. She's not just a witch—she's centuries of dark magic bound in one form. A being who survives by feeding on fate itself."
Kiara's tear-blurred eyes lifted, burning with a different kind of fire.
"I don't care how powerful she is," she whispered, brushing her thumb across Yuvaan's cold cheek. "She will have to face the wrath of a grieving wife."
Her breath trembled… but her resolve didn't.
"I'm not going alone," Kiara continued, rising slowly to her feet. "Bholenath is going with me. And with Him beside me… she doesn't stand a chance."
The room fell dead quiet.
Vikram stepped toward her, his expression shifting from fear to solidarity.
"Okay, dear," he said softly. "Then even I'll come with you. We'll face her together. But…" His voice darkened. "There's only one place we can find Kalapishachi now—the Cursed Island."
A chill swept through everyone.
Kiara didn't flinch.
Instead, she turned back to Yuvaan.
She bent down slowly, as though afraid the moment might break her, and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead — a kiss that carried love, fear, fury, and a promise all at once.
Her voice cracked as she whispered against his skin:
"I'll save you, Yuvaan… even if I have to fight the entire darkness myself. Just hold on. Your Kiara is coming back for you."
His fingers twitched faintly — or maybe it was her imagination.
Either way, her heart clung to that tiny hope.
She straightened, eyes red but fierce, her wedding chain trembling against her throat as she turned toward the door.
The grieving wife had left.
What walked out was the Jishwa.
And she was ready for war.
Meanwhile — Kaal Vansh
Deep inside the decaying chambers of Kaal Vansh, the air thickened with black smoke as Taamsi lounged lazily across her shadow throne. Her fingers drummed against the armrest in irritation, waiting for her spy-creature to finish its trembling report.
The creature bowed low, voice cracking.
"M–my queen… the warlock king… Yuvaan… he has taken the curse upon himself. His heart slows with every passing moment."
Taamsi stilled.
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then—
A slow, wicked smile curved across her lips.
"Oh…" she purred, pushing off the throne with a glide, her long nails trailing sparks of corrupted magic. "So the mighty warlock king… is dying."
She laughed, a low, echoing sound that crawled across the walls.
"How poetic. How… predictable."
The creature hesitated. "Shall we wait, my queen? The curse will finish him—"
"Wait?" Taamsi snapped, her eyes glowing blood-red.
"I have waited for a millennium for Kaal Vansh to rise again. I will not let fate toy with my victory."
She leaned forward, her smile turning feral.
"Prepare the death spell. If Yuvaan is hanging between life and death…"
Her shadow spread like spilled ink across the floor.
"…then I shall push him fully into death."
The chamber burned with malignant energy as she whispered:
"Let the warlock king take his final breath tonight."
Outside, the black winds roared—
darkness waking, answering her call.
Meanwhile, at the Pratap Singh mansion, the atmosphere felt as though the walls themselves were grieving.
Bhoomi knelt before the temple diya, her hands trembling as she folded them. Tears streamed down her cheeks, falling onto the marble floor like shattered pieces of her breaking heart.
"Hey Bhagwan…" her voice cracked, heavy with years of love and loss. "I already lost Pramad ji…"
She pressed her palm against her chest as though trying to hold herself together.
"Please… don't take my Yuvaan from me. I'm begging you… give strength to Kiara. She's fighting for all of us."
Her cries echoed through the quiet hall.
Chandrika, unable to watch Bhoomi crumble alone, slowly wrapped her arms around her from behind. "Beti… please don't lose hope," she whispered, her own eyes glistening. "Kiara is strong. She won't let anything happen to Yuvaan."
Susheela hurried in and immediately knelt beside them, placing a gentle hand on Bhoomi's shoulder. "We're all with her," she soothed. "And God is with her too. He has to be."
Bhoomi finally broke, leaning into them as though they were the last pillars holding her upright. "I just want my family whole again…" she sobbed. "Just once… just this once… let my child live."
The diya flickered—as if answering her prayer—casting a quiet, hopeful glow over the three women huddled together in their grief, their fear, and their desperate faith.
To be continued....
📺 PRECAP
The air inside the cavern turns ice-cold as Kalapishachi materializes from the swirling darkness, her laughter echoing like a curse.
Kalapishachi (smirking):
"Six hours, Kiara.
That's all your precious Warlock King has left.
His heart… slowing with every breath."
Kiara's chest tightens, but her fear hardens into resolve.
Her gown is tattered from the fight, her hair wild, her hands trembling—yet her eyes burn with unshakable fire.
She steps forward, voice low but unwavering.
Kiara:
"I wasn't born to save Yuvaan…
I was born to kill him."
Her words echo—honest, haunting.
Then she lifts her chin, her aura flaring like molten gold.
Kiara:
"But destiny doesn't decide what I feel.
I choose him.
And I choose to fight for him."
The ground rumbles as her Jishwa powers ignite, fierce and blinding.
Kiara (with quiet, lethal promise):
"I will kill you, Kalapishachi…
because I will not let my husband die."
Kalapishachi snarls, shadows whipping around her.
Kalapishachi:
"Come then.
Let us see if a love that was never meant to exist…
can defy the fate written in your blood."
Light and darkness crash together in a violent blaze—
two destinies colliding.
---
Will Kiara conquer the demon who created the curse…
or will fate claim the Warlock King before dawn?
The next chapter decides everything.