As Vihaan and Gauri entered their candlelit room, the petals scattered across the floor shimmered under the soft glow of golden lamps. The fragrance of jasmine hung in the air — gentle, intoxicating, almost magical.
Gauri looked around and smiled, her heart swelling with quiet joy. "It's beautiful," she whispered, turning to Vihaan.
Vihaan's eyes softened as he watched her — her hair glinting in the amber light, her smile brighter than the diya flames. He looked away quickly, trying to hide the color creeping up his face.
Gauri noticed and broke into a mischievous grin.
"Oh-ho, ACP Vihaan Kothari… why are you blushing?" she teased, stepping closer. "You're acting like this is the first time we've ever been alone together. Don't tell me the mighty officer has turned shy now?"
Vihaan rubbed the back of his neck, half-smiling. "I'm not shy… just—"
Gauri laughed, interrupting. "Vihaan, we've done this once before! Why this sudden nervousness?"
Vihaan raised an eyebrow and leaned in slightly, lowering his voice with mock seriousness. "Correction, Mrs. Kothari — not once… but twice."
Gauri blinked, caught off guard. "Twice?"
Vihaan nodded slowly, enjoying the confusion on her face. "Mmm-hmm. Holi. The day our friends spiked our drinks." He paused, his tone turning mischievous. "W had too much bhang that night… and well, one thing led to another. You don't remember, do you?"
Gauri's jaw dropped. "Vihaan!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing crimson.
Vihaan chuckled, taking a careful step back as she reached for a pillow.
"Oh no, not again—"
Before he could finish, she threw the pillow straight at him. "How dare you tease me like that!"
Vihaan dodged, laughing. "What? I'm just stating facts!"
"You're impossible!" she said, chasing him around the bed as he tried to escape, both of them laughing like children.
When she finally caught him, she smacked him once more with the pillow, then froze as Vihaan gently grabbed her wrist, turning her toward him.
Their laughter softened.
For a moment, neither spoke — the sound of their hearts filling the quiet.
Vihaan smiled faintly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "I'm just happy, Gauri. This time, we're not bound by fate or fear. Just… us."
Gauri looked up at him, her blush deepening.
She smiled — the same soft, loving smile that made Vihaan fall for her all over again.
As Vihaan gently pulled Gauri closer, she lost her balance and fell softly against him.
Their laughter faded, replaced by a quiet stillness that filled the room like a sacred hush.
For a heartbeat, neither spoke.
The air around them shimmered with unspoken emotions — gratitude, relief, love that had survived curses and storms.
Gauri looked into Vihaan's eyes, seeing not the man burdened by shadows, but the one who had fought them all for her.
Vihaan brushed his thumb along her cheek, his gaze tender.
"You brought me light," he whispered, voice trembling. "You brought us back."
Gauri smiled faintly, tears glimmering in her lashes.
"And you brought me home."
Their foreheads touched — a quiet promise sealed in closeness.
Then, as the diya flame swayed gently beside them, Vihaan leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead — a gesture of love pure enough to silence even destiny itself.
The world outside blurred into nothingness.
All that remained was the warmth of their hearts — beating in rhythm, wrapped in peace.
Meanwhile, far from the Kothari Mansion, the night breathed differently.
A cold mist clung to the narrow streets of an old city, where flickering street lamps struggled to push back the darkness.
Footsteps echoed.
A woman walked briskly, clutching her handbag, her eyes darting over her shoulder. Someone was following her.
A hooded man moved in the shadows, his pace steady, his face hidden beneath the cowl. Each time she sped up, he matched her step for step, closing the distance with an eerie calm.
Her heart pounded. The street ahead was empty. She turned a corner—only to find him already there, blocking her path.
The woman's breath caught. She let her bag drop to the cobblestones with a sharp thud.
"Fine," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "Since you're so eager to die…"
She raised her head slowly, and the faint glow of the streetlight revealed her smirk.
"I'll make it easy."
In an instant, her human facade began to ripple like water disturbed by a stone. Her eyes turned coal-black, her nails lengthened into curved talons, and her hair lifted as though caught in a storm no one else could feel.
A harsh wind swept the alley, scattering loose papers and rattling shutters as she transformed fully — her true form emerging like a nightmare pulled from folklore.
The woman was no woman at all.
She was a daayan.
Her laughter cracked through the night, echoing down the street like a crow's screech.
The hooded man, however, did not flinch.
He tilted his head, as if amused — a faint glimmer of steel flashing beneath his cloak.
The hooded man's hand moved with unnatural precision. In a flash, he produced a dagger that shimmered with runes, glowing faintly in the foggy streetlight.
The daayan froze, her black eyes widening in shock. She hissed, lunging forward—but it was too late.
With a blinding streak of light, the dagger pierced her heart. Pain rippled across her body as her powers faltered, her wings of shadow flickering and collapsing.
Before she could strike again, the hooded man's hands grasped her by the neck. A dark, crackling energy flowed from her into him — her life, her magic, her essence — siphoned with terrifying efficiency. She gasped, her screams caught in her throat as her body went limp.
With a cold flick, he flung her to the ground. The daayan lay motionless, her dark aura fading into nothing.
The man slowly removed his hood, letting his dark hair fall aside. His eyes, once human, now glowed black like endless voids, reflecting a hunger that went beyond mere mortality.
"I am… Naashak," he declared, his voice low, commanding, and echoing with a hint of something ancient. "And from this night, the shadows themselves will answer to me."
The wind carried his words, chilling the empty streets. Around him, the remnants of the daayan's magic shimmered, bending toward him as if recognizing their new master.
A new darkness had arisen.