Kiaan's heartbeat thundered in his ears. He could feel something inside him—hot, fierce, golden—trying to surface. His fingers trembled as he clenched them, willing it to come.
Come on… come on…
A faint shimmer lit his irises, molten gold threatening to break free—
SNAP.
The bracelet burned against his wrist, tightening like a shackle. The glow blinked out. Kiaan gasped, staggering a step back as the power retreated painfully, like a door slammed shut inside him.
Rani's laughter echoed across the lonely street—soft, cruel, knowing.
"Oh little prince," she cooed, gliding closer, her feet barely touching the ground. "Trying so hard… yet you're just a powerless child."
Kiaan gritted his teeth. "I'm not powerless."
"Oh, but you are." Rani circled him like a shadow. "That bracelet keeps your true fire locked away. You can't do anything to me."
Kiaan backed away slowly, fingers still tight around the phone. His jaw trembled—not with fear, but frustration. Rage.
Rani leaned forward, voice dripping poison as she whispered near his ear, "Your powers only burst out when someone insults your…"
She paused—intentionally.
Her smile widened when she saw the spark flare in his eyes just at the mention of it.
She knew.
She always knew.
Kiara—his mother—was the only button that could unleash him.
But instead of pressing it, she toyed with the pause like a knife.
Kiaan swallowed hard. His voice cracked, vulnerable yet brave, "Don't you dare talk about my mumma."
Rani smirked, enjoying his shaking stance. "See? Just the thought of her makes you wild. If I really say something bad about your precious mother—" she dragged the words slowly, tasting the threat— "you might actually burn the world, won't you?"
Kiaan's breath hitched. The bracelet pulsed, preventing the spark, holding the wildfire in chains.
He stared at her—small, furious, eyes glossy with unshed tears—but he didn't break.
"I won't let you speak about her," he whispered. "Never."
Rani gave a lazy shrug. "How sweet. A cub protecting a lioness who isn't even here."
Kiaan's hands curled into fists. His rage trembled beneath the surface, desperate, suffocating.
And Rani watched him like one watches a match before striking—
tempted
to light it
just to see everything burn.
Rani finally lost her patience.
With a hiss, she swooped down—hair whipping behind her like black shadows, green veins gleaming under moonlight. "Give. Me. The. Phone!" she snarled, clawed fingers reaching for Kiaan.
Kiaan froze for less than a second—then instinct kicked in.
Chomp.
He lunged forward and bit her hand—hard.
Rani shrieked, more out of shock than pain, snatching her hand back. Kiaan used that split moment and ran. Backpack bouncing, phone clutched tight, breath ragged.
His sneakers slapped the pavement as he sprinted down the empty street. Streetlights flickered above, shadows stretching long and thin.
Behind him, a cold laugh echoed.
"You think you can run from me?" Rani's voice slithered through the night. "Little boy, I can smell your fear."
Kiaan didn't look back. "I'm not scared!" he yelled, voice breaking.
He was.
But he was brave anyway.
Rani floated silently above, gliding like a dark wraith, easily keeping pace. "Run, run… it will make ripping that phone from your tiny hands more fun," she taunted, descending lower.
Kiaan stumbled, almost falling, but pushed himself forward. A tear slid down his cheek—fear mixing with determination. He had proof now. Proof no one believed him about before.
He just needed to get home. To Dad. To Dadi. To someone.
Rani swooped closer.
"Where will you go, Kiaan?" she purred. "The night belongs to me. And so will you."
Kiaan's heart hammered.
But he didn't stop running.
Kiaan's lungs burned as he kept running, his small legs pushing harder than they ever had. His breaths came out in short gasps, each step echoing on the deserted road.
Behind him, Rani floated to a slow stop—her green eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.
"So stubborn," she whispered, lips curling.
Her fingers twitched, and far ahead on the road, a truck driver's eyes glazed over dull and empty.
Under her spell.
Rani raised her hand lazily—like commanding a puppet—and the truck headlights flared to life. With a roar, it lunged forward down the road straight toward Kiaan.
Kiaan froze for a heartbeat when he noticed the blinding light behind him, then ran faster, panic surging through him like fire.
"Run, little one," Rani chuckled softly. "Run all you want. The road ends soon for you."
She didn't chase him anymore. She hovered in the dark, watching—believing the truck would finish the job for her. A cruel, satisfied smile stretched across her face as the headlights swallowed the distance rapidly.
Kiaan looked back—too late.
The truck was almost upon him.
He screamed, "Mumma help me!"
The bracelet on his wrist flickered faintly gold—once. Weak. Suppressed.
He stumbled forward, still running, still clutching the phone like a lifeline.
The truck horn blared. The road trembled.
Rani threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing eerily into the night.
---
Meanwhile — Pratap Singh Villa
In the quiet of Kiaan's room, the night felt calm… too calm.
Yuvaan knocked softly, balancing a dinner plate.
"Kiaan?" he called gently, voice tired but warm. "Champ, open the door. I brought your favorite… let's eat together?"
No response.
He pushed the door open. The room was dim, curtains half drawn. His footsteps sounded loud in the silence. He placed the plate on the table and sat on the bed edge.
Sighing, he ran a hand over the blanket.
"Champ, I'm sorry," he whispered, guilt heavy in his voice. "Daddy shouldn't have raised his hand on you today. I… I just want you to be happy. I want to do what your mom wished for. I miss her too—every moment."
His hand shifted over the mattress—and it sank into nothing but sheets.
Empty.
He frowned, blinking. Then reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on.
Light flooded the room.
The bed was untouched.
The room was empty.
Kiaan was gone.
Yuvaan's heart slammed painfully.
"Kiaan?" he called again, louder. No footsteps. No reply. He checked the bathroom—empty. Closet—empty. Window—closed, but curtains fluttering slightly, as if someone had left in a rush.
His breath hitched.
Fear punched him in the chest.
"KIAAN!!!!"
The plate clattered to the floor, shattering as the camera of the scene metaphorically cuts back—
To the road.
The truck.
The running child.
Chapter Ends.