"She is destruction incarnate-everything she touches turns to ash."
Ishani, a sharp-witted and fiercely independent businesswoman from the modern world, trusts no one, least of all men. But fate has other plans. Thrust into a treacherous era of warr...
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The skies over Dwarka darkened without warning. People seemed to notice the fore brooding and retreat wisely into the confines of their homes.
One moment, the sun had hung golden over the cerulean waves; the next, a bruise-purple storm swallowed the horizon, churning the sea into frothing fury. The palace courtyards, usually alive with the laughter of courtiers and the chime of anklets, fell silent as the air itself seemed to thicken with malice.
Ishani stood at the balcony of her guest chamber, the wind tearing at her unbound hair. Below, the white-capped waves clawed at the cliffs as if something beneath them sought to rise.
Something was coming. And it didn't seem friendly.
Behind her, the door creaked open.
"You should be resting." Karna's voice was rough, as if he had spent the night shouting. She didn't turn. "I don't need rest. I need answers."
A pause. Then footsteps, slow and deliberate, until he stood beside her, his warmth seeping into the cold space between them. She sighed tiredly, gripping the balcony rods as she was aware of Karna's unflinching gaze on her. She knew there existed something between them, a tension that she didn't want to feel. But her emotions and heart had always been traitors, while she paid the price.
But this time, she wouldn't make the same mistakes. Men may be good, but they all broke women's hearts at the cost of themselves.
"We'll get them," he murmured.
She wanted to believe him. Yet Ishani knew Karna would face a harder path than hers, a one she didn't know how to explain to him.
Then the world exploded. The first tremor sent mosaics shattering from the walls. The second split the marble floors like kindling. By the third, the screams began.
Ishani stumbled, her hands flying to her ears as a roar—inhuman, guttural—ripped through the palace.
"What in the name of—"
Karna grabbed her wrist, yanking her behind him as the balcony doors burst inward.
It slithered through the wreckage—a creature of smoke and sinew, its too-long limbs bending at impossible angles, its mouth a yawning pit of needle teeth.
"Ishani," it crooned, its voice the scrape of rusted chains. "Little lady. We've been waiting."
Karna's snarl was barely recognizable as human. "You don't touch her, you monster."
The demon laughed. "Oh, Vasusena. You always were the protective one, but no match to that bastard's obsession. I shall feast upon this celestial before that coward Devajit gets her."
Then it struck, but Karna shot celestial arrows that seem to slow the monster down. Ishani stood behind Karna as his kavach glowed, absorbing all the magic and weapons the monster tried to inflict.
