A deafening hush fell over the Kothari mansion grounds as the last remnants of the statue crumbled away. From the dark smoke and swirling serpents, a figure began to take form — tall, commanding, and impossibly regal.
Kamini emerged, draped in a flowing black saree that shimmered like liquid night, adorned with silver ornaments that caught the pale light of the blood moon. Her single braid coiled like a living thing, the tip crowned with a serpent's head that hissed softly, eyes glinting like molten gold.
She drew a slow, deliberate breath, as if savoring the air of freedom, and lifted her gaze. Her golden serpentine eyes swept over the horrified family, glowing with ancient power and cold triumph.
"I am Kamini," she declared, her voice both silky and venomous, carrying over the night like a whisper of doom. "The Sarpdaayan… is back."
A shiver ran through the gathered Kotharis. Even the bravest among them felt the weight of her presence, the aura of centuries-old darkness pressing in from every corner. The night had turned, and the battle for survival — for their souls — had only just begun.
Kamini's golden eyes glimmered with amusement as she stepped forward, serpentine braid swaying like a living shadow. Her voice slithered through the courtyard, smooth and mocking.
"Thank you, Vihaan," she said, her tone laced with venomous sweetness. "For performing the duty of a son… and freeing me. How thoughtful of you."
Vihaan's jaw clenched. His voice rang with defiance. "I am not your son."
A low, chilling chuckle escaped Kamini as she lowered herself onto a throne fashioned from coiling serpents, their scales glinting under the blood-red moon. The serpents hissed in unison, a symphony of menace, as the family watched, hearts pounding.
"Now that I am fully back," Kamini declared, her gaze sweeping across the Kotharis, "I will settle all scores… for every betrayal, every crime you have committed against me."
Gauri's eyes welled with tears, her voice trembling but fierce. "What betrayal are you talking about? Was saving an innocent infant from a ruthless mother a crime? Was protecting a child from a selfish, cruel, and inhumane witch… wrong?"
Kamini's lips curved into a cold smile. "Oh, such a sharp tongue, daughter-in-law. This will be… very interesting. You are most unfortunate, indeed."
Gauri's hands clenched, her voice unwavering. "You're not a mother, Kamini. You're only a selfish, inhumane, cruel witch."
Kamini's serpentine braid flicked, the serpent-head hissing softly. "Bold words from my daughter-in-law. So defiant… so entertaining."
Veena stepped forward, her eyes blazing with authority and maternal pride. "Neither are you Vihaan's mother, nor Gauri's mother-in-law! I am Vihaan's mother, and Gauri's mother-in-law. You have no right to claim my son as yours."
The tension thickened like a storm about to break. Kamini's golden eyes narrowed, her amusement giving way to a dangerous glint. The family stood together, hearts united, yet the air around them seemed to vibrate with the promise of chaos.
The Sarpdaayan had returned. And the night — and their fates — would never be the same.
Kamini's smirk widened, her golden eyes gleaming with malevolence as she slowly circled the family like a predator savoring its prey.
"Poor Veena," she hissed, her voice laced with venom. "You couldn't stop your husband, Ravikant, from becoming mine… then how can you hope to stop what already belongs to me?"
Sharda stepped forward, her stance firm, voice echoing with conviction. "Vihaan isn't yours, Kamini! Vihaan is a son of this family. He is Veena's son, Maaji's grandson, Shyom and Urvashi's nephew, Yug and Raani's cousin, and he is Gauri's husband! But no matter what blood flows in his veins, he will never become your son."
Kamini's eyes narrowed, a sharp laugh escaping her lips. "Strange… my blood runs through Vihaan's veins. I birthed him. Then how… how is it that he is not my son? He carries the nature of a witch… he is my warlock… my Sarvansh!"
Dadi's voice rang out, steady and commanding, carrying the weight of generations. "Kamini, nature does not define a person. The blood in Vihaan's veins does not dictate his heart, his choices, or his soul. He was raised with love, nurtured with care, and surrounded by family who shaped him into the man he is today. No spell, no bloodline, no curse can undo that. Nature may plant the seed, but nurture grows the soul."
The wind seemed to still as her words settled over the courtyard. Vihaan stood tall, fists clenched, his gaze locked on Kamini. Beside him, Gauri's hand found his, gripping tightly. Yug, Charvi, Sharda, Veena, Dadi, and the rest of the family formed an unbroken circle around him, a living shield of love and loyalty.
Kamini's golden eyes flickered with fury, but a shadow of doubt crossed her face. She had always believed that blood defined power, that her child was hers to command. Yet here, in this defiant unity, she felt something she had never felt before: resistance.
"And so," Dadi continued, her voice unwavering, "you may have birthed the blood, Kamini, but you will never own the soul. And that soul… belongs to us. To love. To family. To the light."
The Sarpdaayan hissed, the shadows of her throne flickering like dying embers, yet her grin remained—tight, controlled, dangerous.
The stage was set. The battle between dark and light, between fate and choice, was about to erupt.