The golden tiger roared once more before dissolving into glowing motes of sacred light. Kiara stepped forward, Trishul blazing in her grip, her eyes burning with divine resolve.
Kalapishachi snarled, masking her rising fear. "Don't think a borrowed weapon will save you, child!"
Kiara didn't flinch.
Her voice rose—calm, steady, yet thunderous with conviction.
"You flaunted your powers… your age… your curses. But let me tell you something, Kalapishachi."
She lifted the Trishul, its golden fire spiraling upward like a living flame.
"There is one force you never understood.
A force older than your darkness… older than every curse you command."
Kiara's voice deepened, vibrating with the weight of divine authority.
"Love.
Love makes the weak unbreakable.
Love turns mortals into legends.
Love gives ordinary hearts the strength to defy fate itself."
Kalapishachi hissed and summoned a swirling vortex of dark energy, black lightning crackling within. "Enough sentiment! DIE!"
Kiara didn't step back.
She didn't even blink.
She raised the Trishul high.
"JAI TRIDEVI!"
The heavens answered.
The Trishul hurled forward in a golden arc, colliding with Kalapishachi's dark beam. The impact shook the cursed island, light and darkness twisting violently in the air.
But only one force endured.
The divine light shattered the cursed magic as if it were glass—tearing through it, through Kalapishachi's defenses, and finally—
through Kalapishachi herself.
The ancient witch let out a final, strangled scream as her immortal body cracked with golden fissures.
"No—no—no—this cannot—"
She disintegrated in an explosion of golden dust.
The curse of a thousand years
died with her.
---
The Tridevi Manifest
Silence fell.
The wind stilled.
Time itself seemed to bow.
Then, from the shimmering air, three radiant figures appeared—graceful, glowing, divine.
Mahakali. Mahalakshmi. Mahasaraswati.
The Tridevi themselves.
Kiara instantly fell to her knees, bowing her head. Vikram joined beside her, trembling with reverence.
The goddesses' voices overlapped—gentle yet cosmic.
"Rise, Child of Light."
Kiara lifted her gaze, tears brimming.
Mahalakshmi smiled softly.
"Your love is pure, Kiara. Pure enough to defy curses, fate… and even death."
Mahasaraswati added,
"You and Yuvaan share a bond rarer than stars aligning. A love that transformed a warlock king… turning him away from the darkness he was born into."
Mahakali stepped closer, eyes blazing with fierce pride.
"And today, that same love made you divine."
Kiara swallowed, overwhelmed. "My husband… please…"
The Tridevi lifted their hands.
"With Kalapishachi's end," Mahasaraswati proclaimed,
"her curse has been broken."
Mahalakshmi's voice softened.
"Your Yuvaan breathes again."
Mahakali's final words thundered like a blessing from the heavens:
"Go to him, Jishwa.
Your love has conquered destiny."
A beam of golden light enveloped Kiara and Vikram—
Meanwhile at the Pratap Singh Mansion…
Aranya's spider-silk web tightened around Mishka, pinning her beside Varun. Both struggled helplessly as Aranya stepped toward the couch where Yuvaan lay unconscious.
Bhoomi cried out, voice trembling,
"Please… don't touch my son… please…"
Susheela and Chandrika folded their hands desperately.
"Please, spare him… he is dying already…"
Aranya only smiled—cruel, mocking, savoring their fear.
"Oh come on," she purred, brushing her fingers approvingly across Yuvaan's cheek. "He really is so handsome. If only he hadn't betrayed us… I would've gladly become his dark consort."
She clicked her tongue, feigning disappointment.
"But what to do? Orders are orders."
She raised her hand, claws extending, preparing to pierce through his chest—
But before her fingers could touch him…
A hand shot up.
A strong hand.
A living hand.
Wrapped around her throat.
Everyone froze.
Aranya choked in shock.
Her eyes widened.
Yuvaan's fingers tightened on her neck as his eyes snapped open—
glowing a deep, burning, feral red.
A tremor went through the room.
The wind inside the mansion stirred violently, whipping through his long, shoulder-length hair as if greeting the return of a king.
Aranya whispered hoarsely,
"Impossible—how—?"
Yuvaan tilted his head slightly… almost amused.
Then—
With a single effortless shove,
he flung Aranya across the hall. She smashed into the far wall, spider webs cracking from the force.
The family gasped, tears turning into stunned silence.
Yuvaan rose from the couch with unnatural grace—like a ruling monarch reclaiming his throne. His bare feet touched the ground, his aura exploding outward in waves of dark, ancient power.
The night wind blew through the mansion windows, whipping his hair as he stood tall—every inch the resurrected Warlock King.
He looked at his family, at the fear in Aranya's eyes, and then said in a deep, resonant voice:
"I'm back."
The lights flickered.
The air trembled.
A forgotten power had awakened.
To be continued…
✨ Precap Teaser ✨
Soft temple bells echo as Yuvaan and Kiara stand together under a canopy of marigolds, taking their sacred vows. Their hands are bound with the red ritual thread… their eyes locked with unspoken promises.
The family surrounds them, glowing with happiness —
Bhoomi wipes her tears, Chandrika joins her palms in prayer, Vikram and Varun stand proudly beside the couple.
But beneath all this bliss…
a serpentine shadow slithers silently across the temple walls, watching the wedding with cold, unblinking interest.
Just as Yuvaan fills Kiara's maang with sindoor—
CREAK…
The main door groans open.
Every head turns.
Footsteps echo.
A silhouette enters… tall, unmoving… unreadable.
Kiara's smile fades.
Yuvaan stiffens.
Vikram and Varun instinctively step forward.
The entire family gasps.
The shadowy figure lifts their head—
And the screen cuts to black.
"Who is this new storm about to gatecrash their lives…?"
"And what destiny will they bring for Yuvaan and Kiara?"
---