Kiara's sobs slowly quieted… but the ache didn't.
Not when every second that passed reminded her of Yuvaan lying helpless, breath thinning, heart slowing… dying.
The image rose in her mind unbidden—
Yuvaan collapsing into her arms, blood staining his shirt, the arrows piercing him where she should have been marked.
His fading smile.
His whispered "I love you."
The way his hand had slipped from hers…
Her heart twisted painfully.
More memories followed, soft and cruel all at once:
Yuvaan teasing her mercilessly.
Yuvaan shielding her without hesitation.
Yuvaan calling her wifey with that arrogant smirk.
Yuvaan eating her burnt paratha just because she made it.
Yuvaan holding her like she was both his strength and weakness.
Yuvaan promising her forever.
And now he lay fighting for his life—
because he chose her life over his own.
Kiara's tears dried.
Her breath steadied.
Somewhere deep within her, something ancient stirred—
not just love
not just grief
but a divine fury older than time itself.
She lifted her face.
Her eyes blazed.
She rose slowly to her feet, the wind whipping around her gown as if bowing to the storm awakening inside her.
Vikram stepped back in awe.
Because behind Kiara, faint but unmistakable,
the small Trident birthmark on her back shoulder ignited—
not glowing… but blazing.
A molten, golden light that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Kiara clenched her fists.
She inhaled.
And when she exhaled, her voice thundered across the wasteland, raw and divine all at once:
"HAR HAR MAHADEV!"
The sky trembled.
The clouds shuddered.
A wave of golden light burst from her palms, shooting upward like a flame reaching for the heavens.
The very air split open—
peeling back layers of illusion—
until the invisible island began to shimmer into existence.
Slowly…
majestically…
the cursed island revealed itself.
Dark rock. Floating citadels. Cursed forests.
Suspended in the sky like a forgotten kingdom carved from nightmare.
And then—
A staircase of pure golden energy descended from the island, stretching all the way to the ground before Kiara.
Vikram stared, breath stolen.
"Kiara… you… you did it."
But Kiara didn't smile.
Didn't celebrate.
Her eyes remained fixed on the island above.
Her voice was quiet… steady… lethal:
"Yuvaan is waiting for me."
She stepped toward the staircase.
"And no curse, no witch, no fate will keep me from him."
The atmosphere inside the Pratap Singh mansion was painfully still.
Yuvaan lay on the couch, head resting on Bhoomi's lap while Chandrika stroked his hair, whispering prayers under her breath. Vinod paced the room, rage and helplessness warring in his eyes. Angad sat at Yuvaan's feet, refusing to blink, as if afraid even a moment of looking away would make his brother disappear forever.
Every tick of the clock echoed like a countdown.
Six hours.
Six fragile hours.
The doorbell shattered the silence.
Riddhi immediately stood. "I'll get it."
Everyone turned for a moment—hope? fear?—then shifted back to Yuvaan's pale, still form.
Riddhi opened the door.
A girl stood there. Beautiful. Neat. Strangely calm.
Around Yuvaan's age.
Her eyes too eager. Her smile too bright.
"Hi," the girl said softly. "I'm Aranya. Yuvaan's friend."
She clasped her hands nervously. "I… I heard he's unwell. I came as soon as I could."
Riddhi blinked.
For a second, instinct told her to let the girl in.
But then—
She stopped.
Her brows pulled together.
"Hold on," Riddhi said slowly, her tone sharpening. "How did you know Yuvaan was unwell?"
Aranya smiled again—
but this time it didn't reach her eyes.
Inside the living room, Chandrika looked toward the door, dread creeping up her spine.
Bhoomi's hands froze mid-prayer.
Angad stiffened.
A cold gust swept through the hallway, brushing past Riddhi's ankles like a warning.
Aranya tilted her head.
"Oh," she said sweetly. "People talk."
Her smile widened, too perfect.
"Bad news travels fast."
Riddhi's grip on the doorknob tightened.
Something about this girl… wasn't right.
And behind Aranya's pleasant expression, for a split second, the shadow of eight crawling legs slipped across her irises—
and vanished.
Kiara's palms pressed against the rough stone of the floating staircase, each step up toward the cursed island a battle between hope and fear. The wind tore at her hair, whipping her gown around her legs, but she did not falter. Vikram followed closely, eyes scanning the invisible horizon that now shimmered into view thanks to Kiara's blazing Jishwa power.
"Be careful, Kiara," Vikram said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "The island… it's alive. It will test you."
Kiara tightened her grip on the railing, her Trident birthmark glowing faintly against the pale moonlight. "I know, Dad. I can't afford to fail… not Yuvaan. Not ever."
Above them, the cursed island loomed, suspended like a jagged crown in the sky, shadows twisting and dark tendrils of fog curling like snakes around the floating rocks. Every instinct in Kiara screamed danger, but determination kept her moving.