Night had swallowed the jungle whole.
Crickets screamed. Wind hissed between ancient trees.
Varun moved quietly, each leaf crackling beneath his boots like a warning.
He held the reeva compass in one hand, its needle glowing faint silver, trembling — guiding.
He followed it deeper, breath slow, eyes watchful.
The forest seemed endless, yet every step felt called by destiny.
Suddenly — the air rippled.
A force like unseen fingers clenched his chest and pulled.
Before he could draw another breath, the world dissolved around him.
Branches, moonlight, soil — all stretched like liquid and swallowed him whole.
Darkness.
Then — music.
A haunting waltz.
Varun stumbled out into a grand hall beneath an alien sky — chandeliers of bone, drapes the color of dried blood.
Masked figures danced slowly, their movements elegant and unsettling.
Faces hidden under horned masquerade masks.
Their laughter sounded wrong… hungry.
Silver trays floated between them, carrying crystal glasses filled with thick red liquid.
Blood.
Too dark, too viscous to be wine.
Varun's pulse kicked, but his hand instinctively brushed the aura-concealing locket at his throat.
As long as he wore it, the blood-drinkers would not sense the hunter beneath his human shell.
He kept to the shadows.
No one looked at him.
They glided past, sniffing the air, savoring the glasses offered by servants with hollow eyes.
On the walls, portraits shifted when unseen, watching.
Varun exhaled — slow.
He pressed himself behind a pillar where the music softened to a dull heartbeat.
His compass glowed brighter, needle tugging toward the left, shaking as if eager.
"There must be an entrance…"
His voice was barely a whisper, breath fogging in the eerie chill.
"Another way out — another path forward. It's here."
He scanned the room again — chandeliers swaying though no wind blew, guests twirling as if time meant nothing, and beyond them, behind the last velvet curtain… something pulsed. Faint. Magical.
Varun tightened his grip on his bow, jaw set.
"Dilruba…" he murmured, a mix of longing and pain stirring in his chest.
"If you're behind this realm…I will find you."
He stepped out of the shadow, one step toward the curtain — toward the next part of the hunt.
---
Yuvaan parked his car by the riverside, engine ticking softly as it cooled in the dusk.
He stepped out, hands buried in his coat pockets, shoulders heavy with memories that had never learned how to fade.
The bridge ahead felt too familiar.
Too silent.
Too full of ghosts.
He walked slowly along the pedestrian path, each footstep echoing like a heartbeat he no longer trusted.
Images of Kiara surged — her laughter, the warmth of her hand in his, the way she used to glare at him when he pretended not to care.
A tear slipped before he could stop it.
Then another.
He stopped midway, leaning against the cold railing as though it alone held him from falling apart.
His chest tightened, breath shivering.
"If only I could see you once more…"
His voice cracked into the empty wind.
"Just once."
He closed his eyes.
And somewhere — like the universe listened — a voice rose in the air.
Soft.
Melting.
Wounded and beautiful.
Khushi stood at the far end of the bridge, unaware she was singing the ache in his bones.
Her guitar gleamed under the streetlights, her hair dancing with the night breeze like a memory trying to take shape.
She sang — raw, unfiltered, heart bleeding through words:
Baahon mein teri aake lagaa
Mera safar toh yahin tak hai
Tumse shuru tumpe hi khatam
Meri kahaani tumhi tak hai
Her voice floated across the river, echoing against the water, reaching him like a whisper from another world.
Yuvaan's eyes opened slowly.
It felt like Kiara.
It felt like home.
Dil ko jo de raahat si
Tujhme hai woh khamoshi
Sau baar talaash liya khudko
Kuch tere siva na mila mujhko
He turned his head as if drawn by fate, yet he couldn't see the singer clearly — only the silhouette of a girl, lost in music and moonlight.
The pain inside him eased — just a little.
The storm turned into rain.
Still heavy, still grieving… but softer.
Saanson se rishta tod bhi loon
Tumse tod na paungi.. Hmm..
A helpless smile tugged at his lips — small, barely there, but real.
He hadn't smiled like that in years.
Main phir bhi tumko chaahungi
Main phir bhi tumko chaahungi
Iss chaahat mein marr jaaungi
Main phir bhi tumko chaahungi
The breeze carried her song straight into the cracks of him, like a balm Kiara herself had poured.
He whispered into the night, voice shaking.
"Kiara… are you here?"
Tum aise mujhme shaamil ho
Tum jaan meri tum hi dil ho
Shaayad main bhula doon khud ko bhi
Par tumko bhool na paaungi
Ho..
Tears warmed his eyes again — but this time, they were gentle.
Tears that remembered love, not loss.
Khushi strummed deeper, her voice trembling like she was singing her own scars:
Main phir bhi tumko chaahungi
Main phir bhi tumko chaahungi
Iss chaahat mein marr jaaungi
Main phir bhi tumko chaahungi..
Yuvaan closed his eyes and let the melody wash him clean.
He didn't know who she was.
He only knew he felt Kiara — in that voice, in that air, in that moment.
Somewhere, destiny smiled.
Two strangers connected by a song…
yet unaware that one carried the love of a lifetime,
and the other carried the soul it belonged to.
---
To be continued…