The bridal suite smelled of crushed henna and jasmine oil as the artist traced intricate patterns across Ruby's palms. Each swirl glistened like fresh blood in the afternoon light.
"Such beautiful hands for my daughter-in-law," Sapna cooed, adjusting Ruby's dupatta with maternal pride.
Ruby's smile was poison wrapped in silk. "Your kindness humbles me, Maa."
But beneath the henna's earthy scent, her skin prickled with unease. She'd tried every dark incantation last night—whispered pleas to Mohana, blood sigils on her mirror—yet the ring remained hidden. *Why couldn't she sense it?*
The artist pressed a final bloom onto her wrist—right where the ring had once rested. Ruby's pulse jumped. If the Kashyaps had it, they'd soon decipher its carvings: the twin serpents of Mohana's coven.
Sapna leaned closer. "You're trembling, beti."
Ruby clenched her hennaed hands. "Just wedding nerves."
Outside, a crow cawed—Mohana's eyes were watching. The ceremony continued, but Ruby's thoughts spun darker than the henna staining her skin.
Hansraj college corridor buzzed with students rushing to their next class. Raj adjusted his collar, the unfamiliar tie strangling him as he approached another group.
"Excuse me," he forced a smile, "I'm looking for my sister, Tejaswini Kakkar. First year medical student."
The students exchanged blank looks. "Don't know her," one muttered before hurrying away.
Savi happened to be passing by, her arms full of textbooks. Raj barely glanced at her as he repeated his question.
"Sorry," Savi said smoothly, shifting her weight. "I don't recognize that name."
Raj's jaw tightened. He'd heard this same response all morning. "She's about this tall," he gestured, "very bright, from Jaipur—"
"Maybe check the administration office?" Savi suggested helpfully, already backing away.
Raj sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Right. Thanks." He turned toward the dean's office without another glance at Savi.
As he walked away, Savi's hands trembled around her books. She needed to warn Teju immediately. Raj might have believed her lie, but his presence on campus meant the danger was closer than ever.
Meanwhile, Raj pulled out his phone and dialed Sarkar. "No luck yet," he growled. "But I'm not leaving until—" His words cut off as a familiar figure turned the corner ahead - a girl with a long braid wearing a white lab coat. His breath caught. "I think... I just found her."
He rushed forward, only to find a stranger's face when she turned around.
"Sorry," the student muttered, edging away from his intense stare.
Raj slammed his fist against the wall, startling nearby students. He'd been chasing ghosts all morning
Savi ducked into an empty equipment closet, the sharp scent of disinfectant burning her nose as she fumbled with her phone. Her hands shook so badly she nearly dropped it.
*"Teju's already at the Kashyap mansion,"* she whispered, wiping sweat from her brow. *"If that monster finds out—"*
The call connected, ringing once... twice...
*"Please pick up—"*
A robotic voice interrupted: *"The subscriber you are trying to reach—"*
"No no no!" Savi redialed, her knee bouncing uncontrollably. Same message.
Through the small window, she saw Raj storming across the courtyard toward the parking lot, shouting into his phone. Her stomach twisted.
Fingers flying, she typed:
**"EMERGENCY - RAJ WAS HERE! HE'S—"**
The closet door suddenly opened. Professor Mehta's stern face appeared. "Miss Gupta? Why are you hiding in here?"
Savi shoved the phone into her pocket, the unsent message searing against her skin. "Just...pre-exam nerves, Professor."
The lie tasted like ash
The biology lab door clicked shut behind the professor. Savi slumped against a lab table, her trembling fingers pulling out her phone again. The cracked screen remained stubbornly black despite her frantic button presses.
"Damn it!" she hissed, shaking the device as if that might revive it. The low battery warning from this morning flashed in her memory - she should have charged it during lectures.
Savi rummaged through her backpack with jerky movements, scattering pens and notebooks across the floor. Her charging cable was there, tangled with her headphones. She yanked it free, scanning the lab walls for an outlet.
There - near the emergency shower. She scrambled across the room, nearly tripping over a stool in her haste. Plugging in, she watched the charging symbol appear with agonizing slowness.
"Come on, come on," she muttered, tapping her foot rapidly. The clock above the door ticked loudly, each second stretching impossibly long. 5%...7%...9%...
Savi's knee bounced uncontrollably as she willed the numbers to climb faster. Every passing minute meant Teju remained unaware, vulnerable. The charging cable felt like a lifeline - and time was slipping through her fingers.
Raj revved his black Thar through Hansraj College's gates, its modified exhaust roaring as he cut off a slowing auto-rickshaw. The student's words burned in his mind - *Professor Kashyap's henna ceremony... Kashyap mansion... Chhatarpur.*
His phone's GPS blinked:23 min via MB Road - Heavy Traffic Expected.
Raj spat out the open window, the paan stain splattering near a street vendor's samosa cart. He knew these roads better than any app - he'd take the Andrews Ganj shortcut, damn the traffic cameras.
At the first red light, his fingers drummed on the steering wheel to the blaring horns of a nearby Blueline bus. The scent of diesel mixed with Teju's stolen hair ribbon - the one he'd plucked from her hostel drawer last week in Jaipur.
*"Oye, move your damn car!"* A biker rapped on his window.
Raj lowered the tinted glass just enough to flash his police badge. The biker backed away instantly.
The light turned green. The Thar lurched forward, swerving around a slowing Maruti Alto. Somewhere past Nehru Place, past the crawling metro construction, his runaway bride waited in that mansion of marble and lies.
This time, he'd bring handcuffs. The official kind.
The auto-rickshaw rattled through Delhi's congested streets, its plastic curtains flapping against Teju's arm as she stared blankly at passing storefronts—Fabindia, Wenger's, a faded Patanjali billboard. The driver cursed as they hit another pothole near India Gate, the jolt shaking loose Teju's thoughts.
*"I love Sahir sir."*
Last night's confession to Savi echoed in her skull, raw as the afternoon heat. She'd sobbed so hard her ribs still ached.
The auto swerved around a lumbering truck, its horn blaring. Teju gripped the seat's edge. *This is what you need*, she told herself. *To see him garland Ruby. To watch the sindoor fill his bride's parting.* Only then would this foolish heart believe he was never hers.
At a traffic light, a street vendor waved rose garlands at cars. Teju turned away, but the scent followed—cloying and sweet, like the jasmine strands Ruby would wear tonight.
"Kashyap mansion?" the driver called over his shoulder. "Five minutes only."
Teju nodded, her throat tight. Somewhere ahead, her love story would end in a blaze of wedding torches—and she'd stand in the shadows, letting the flames consume
The auto-rickshaw rattled along Chhatarpur Road, its yellow canopy filtering the late afternoon sun into golden streaks across Teju's lap. She barely noticed the passing landmarks - the familiar billboard for Prince Paan, the white domes of the Chhatarpur Temple complex - lost instead in the memory of that rainy afternoon in the library. Sahir's hands brushing hers as he reached for the same medical journal, the way his breath had hitched when their shoulders touched...
A sudden lurch snapped her back to the present. The auto had turned sharply off the main road, its tires crunching on gravel. Teju blinked at the dense scrubland unfolding before them - the twisted branches of keekar trees scraping against the auto's roof.
"Bhaiya?" She knocked on the plastic divider. "This isn't the way to Kashyap Mansion!"
The driver didn't respond. His shoulders were unnaturally stiff, his head tilted at a wrong angle. Through the dirty rearview mirror, Teju saw his eyes - the whites completely black, like spilled ink.
Her stomach dropped. The meter's red numbers flickered wildly as the auto plunged deeper into the Aravalli forest, the city sounds fading behind them. The driver's hands gripped the wheel with inhuman stillness, his fingernails grown long and dark in the past few minutes.
"Stop! Rukho!" Teju yanked at the door handle. Rusted shut. Outside, a peacock's cry echoed through the trees - or was it laughter?
The last thing she saw before the forest swallowed them whole was the Qutub Minar's silhouette against the blood-red sunset, its shadow stretching toward her like a warning.
The auto-rickshaw careened toward the ravine, its open sides offering no protection from the coming drop. Teju's nails dug into the cracked vinyl seat as she realized - there were no doors to kick, no way to stop what was coming.
**Two seconds to impact.**
The driver's head lolled backward, his blackened eyes unseeing as the vehicle accelerated toward the ditch. Teju made a split-second decision.
As the front wheels left solid ground, she launched herself sideways through the open passenger entry. Her shoulder slammed into the dirt road as she tumbled clear, the auto's momentum carrying it over the edge without her.
The world flipped in a dizzying whirl of dust and pain. When she finally skidded to a stop, the sickening crunch of metal on rock echoed up from below. Teju pushed up on bleeding elbows just in time to see:
- The auto's carcass impaled on a boulder 20 feet down
- The driver's limp body draped over the wreckage
- A swirl of black fog rising from his mouth...and slithering back toward her through the grass.
She crab-walked backward, the cuts on her palms staining the earth. That thing wasn't done with her yet.
The black fog coiled like a living noose—then exploded outward in a burst of golden light. Teju's scream caught in her throat as Sunehri Daayan materialized before her:
- Braids thrashing like angry cobras
- Feet twisted backward in the dirt
- Yellow nails elongating into curved blades
- Eyes burning with pure killing intent
No words. No taunts. Just predator and prey.
Teju's body remembered before her mind could process—this was the same monster that had chased her down the highway two weeks ago, wearing Savi's stolen face. That night hadn't been rain-soaked, but dry and silent as a grave when Sunehri's true form emerged.
Now, as the daayan lunged, Teju's medical training abandoned her. This wasn't anatomy class. Those claws weren't surgical steel but instruments of slaughter. She scrambled backward, knees scraping rocks, fingers clawing at roots—
Sunehri's braid lashed out, wrapping around Teju's ankle. The touch burned like acid. Somewhere in the jungle, a peacock shrieked.
Or was that Teju?
Sunehri's braid coiled tighter around Teju's throat, yanking her upright until her sandals dangled above the dirt. The daayan's golden face split into a grotesque grin, her backward feet stamping impatiently as Teju gagged.
"*Finally,*" Sunehri hissed, her rancid breath hot against Teju's face. The braid constricted with each word: "So many nights watching that wretched college. So many *failed* attempts..."
Teju clawed at the supernatural hair, her nails finding no purchase. Black spots danced in her vision as Sunehri leaned closer.
"Mohana Maa will decorate her throne with your skin." The daayan's free hand raised, yellow nails elongating into dagger points. "Let's see how pretty you look without it—"
Teju's kicking legs brushed something in the dirt—the driver's fallen wrench. Her toes hooked the metal just as Sunehri's claws descended.