Kamini's laughter rang through the hall, sharp and merciless. "Try as you wish, little girl. Your words are as useless as the tears of this family. Vihaan will never be human again—he is Sarvansh now, my son, my creation."
Her venomous claim tightened around the family like a curse.
But Sharda stepped forward, eyes blazing with defiance. "No, Kamini! You are not his mother. You never were."
At that, Veena stumbled closer, clutching her side where blood still stained her saree. Her voice shook, but her resolve did not. "Vihaan is my son. The child I carried, the boy I raised, the man I've watched grow. He is mine—not yours."
Kamini's golden eyes narrowed, her braid hissing faintly as though alive. "Your claim is laughable. My blood runs through his veins. He is bound to me by nature itself. Nothing you or your pitiful emotions can change that."
Sharda's hand trembled, but she pressed it over her heart. "Blood is nothing without choice. And Vihaan will prove it—he will choose love, loyalty, and family over the darkness you've chained him with."
The air grew thick with tension, the marble floor seeming to vibrate under the weight of the confrontation. Vihaan stood at the center of it all, his face half in shadow, his eyes flickering between the red glow of Sarvansh and the faint, aching humanity trying to break through.
Gauri moved then, stepping forward until she stood between him and Kamini. Her saree brushed the floor, her chin raised despite the tears glimmering in her eyes. "Enough."
Her voice echoed, unwavering. "I won't let you steal him, Kamini."
Kamini smirked, arms folding across her chest. "And what will you do, little girl? Pray your little rhymes will save him?"
Gauri ignored the barb. She turned to Vihaan, her words spilling out like fire and prayer all at once:
"You are not a demon, Vihaan. You are not her weapon. You are a son, a brother, a husband. You are a man who has risked his life for the people he loves. A mother's love is stronger than any black magic, and you have two mothers standing here—one by blood, one by heart—both claiming you as family. That is what makes you human. That is what makes you ours."
Her hand lifted, trembling but firm, reaching toward him. "You are not Sarvansh, Vihaan. You are Vihaan Kothari. My Vihaan. Our Vihaan."
The hall was silent except for the pounding of many hearts, waiting—praying—to see which path he would choose.
Kamini's face twisted in fury, her bangles clinking like rattling chains as she spread her arms. With a shriek, the air tore open and a storm of crows erupted from the darkness. They swarmed toward Gauri, their claws raking her arms, their wings battering her down.
Gauri staggered but refused to fall. Blood traced her skin, her breath came ragged, yet her eyes—burning with memory—did not falter. This is the man who leapt into the well to save me. The man who bore the pain of a falling chandelier to protect me. This is not Sarvansh… this is Vihaan. My Vihaan.
"Vihaan!" she cried, her voice slicing through the chaos. "Wake up—remember who you are!"
Kamini snarled, her golden eyes flaring brighter. She hissed an ancient chant, and from the murder of crows one black-winged bird emerged, larger than the rest. Its claws gripped a gleaming knife. With a sharp cry, it dove straight for Gauri's heart.
But before it could strike, a figure appeared—a shield of flesh and will. Vihaan. His hand clamped the knife mid-air, blood dripping from his palm as the blade cut deep. His body trembled, yet he stood tall, eyes blazing with red and human fire both.
"Stay away from my family!" he roared, his voice thunder shaking the very walls. With a sweep of his arm, a golden barrier of force rippled outward, scattering the flock of crows in all directions.
The Kothari family gasped in relief, joy flooding their eyes as hope returned.
But Kamini's smile returned just as quickly. With a flick of her serpentine braid, she conjured a surge of black energy. It struck Vihaan's chest like a storm, forcing him to his knees. His barrier shattered, and blood trickled down his lips as he struggled to hold his ground.
"No!" Gauri's cry tore the air. She stumbled to the fallen knife, her hands shaking but her resolve steady. Gathering all her strength, she lunged forward—plunging the blade deep into Kamini's back.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then Kamini let out a chilling laugh. Her body convulsed, but instead of falling, the wound closed before their eyes, knitting itself as though the steel had kissed only smoke. She turned her head slowly, golden eyes gleaming with cruel delight.
"You dare?" she hissed. "Do you think a little dagger can harm me? I am the serpent, the witch queen—immortal, eternal. You cannot kill me, girl."
Her laughter echoed, cruel and endless, as Gauri gripped the knife tighter, her heart refusing to surrender even as shadows gathered once more.