The goons hovered helplessly in the air, their screams echoing through the quiet forest. Sarvansh stood at the center, his eyes glowing a deep, unholy crimson, his smirk calm — almost amused.
With a lazy flick of his finger, he snapped.
The men crashed to the ground like rag dolls, groaning in pain before scrambling to their feet and running into the shadows, their courage long gone. The night grew still again. Only the whisper of the wind and the faint crackle of dying embers from Kesar's power filled the silence.
Sarvansh turned his gaze to her. The girl lay unconscious on the dusty path, her face serene despite the chaos, her hand still faintly aglow with a fading trace of fire. He crouched beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"So," he murmured, his voice low and velvety, "this is the one fate has hidden from me."
A faint smirk curved his lips. Without another word, he slipped his arms beneath her — effortlessly lifting her as though she weighed nothing. Her head rested against his chest, the flame-mark on her arm catching the moonlight.
Sarvansh looked up at the sky, where clouds passed lazily before the moon, and whispered, almost to himself, "Fire and darkness… an interesting combination."
He walked to the sleek black car parked nearby, opened the door, and laid Kesar gently across the seat. As he circled to the driver's side, his crimson eyes glinted once more.
"Let's see what secrets you're hiding, fiery one," he said with a dark smile, before starting the engine and driving into the night.
Kothari mansion
The candle had burned low, its flame a small, steady heartbeat in the hush. Moonlight spilled across the bed in pale ribbons, catching on the sheen of sweat that glazed Vihaan and Gauri's bare skin. The crimson blanket lay twisted at their hips, half-forgotten.
Gauri lay on her back, one knee drawn up, the other leg tangled with his. Vihaan leaned over her, forearm braced beside her head, the other hand splayed low on her stomach. Their mouths met in slow, open kisses—tongues sliding, breaths mingling, every exhale a soft moan against the other's lips.
When he shifted, the blanket slipped lower.
Gauri's fingers tightened in his hair as he settled between her thighs, skin to skin, heat to heat. He entered her with one unhurried thrust, filling her completely. She gasped into his mouth, hips lifting to meet him, the slick glide drawing a low groan from his chest.
They moved together in a deliberate rhythm—slow rolls of hips, the faint creak of the bedframe, the wet hush of bodies joining again and again. Each stroke sent a tremor through her; each withdrawal made her clutch him closer. Her nails traced the line of his spine, pausing at the healed scar, then sliding lower to grip his hips and urge him deeper.
Vihaan's lips left hers to trail along her jaw, her throat, the soft curve where neck met shoulder. He pressed a kiss there, then another, tasting salt and warmth. Gauri's breath hitched; her thighs tightened around him, heels pressing into the small of his back.
"Vihaan…" His name was a whisper, half plea, half prayer.
He answered by angling his hips, driving deeper, drawing a sharp, sweet cry from her lips.
The candle guttered. Shadows danced across their joined bodies—her breasts rising with every breath, his back flexing with every thrust. Sweat gathered where skin met skin, sliding, cooling, then warming again.
When the wave finally crested, it took them together. Gauri's back arched, a soft, broken moan spilling free as pleasure pulsed through her. Vihaan followed a heartbeat later, burying his face in the curve of her neck, his own release shuddering through him in long, silent waves.
They stayed locked together, breathing hard, hearts hammering in tandem. After a moment he eased to the side, drawing her with him so they lay face-to-face beneath the blanket's loose drape. Gauri's fingers brushed damp hair from his forehead; Vihaan pressed a lingering kiss to her swollen lips.
Outside, the night held its breath. Inside, the candle burned its last and winked out, leaving only moonlight and the quiet certainty that dawn could wait.