CHAPTER 13 : The Demon King’s First Mistake
1181 Words
CHAPTER 13 : THE ALTAR AND THE ANCHOR
VIHAAN’S POV
I shifted unconsciously, trying to curl into better sleep.
Pain slammed through my ribs.
“Ah—”
My eyes snapped open.
Heat burned in my lungs—not fire, but something thicker.
Like warm smoke trapped in my chest cavity.
The silence was wrong.
Not the forest.
Not a hospital.
This was stone silence.
Ancient.
Heavy.
I was lying on a slab.
An altar.
“Aarav…” I whispered. My throat felt like it had been cleaned with steel wool. “Yash… Vani…”
Only an echo answered.
I tried to push up. My body screamed. Some wounds were gone—sealed clean, silver-scarred. Others still burned.
“Okay,” I muttered to the ceiling. “I survived my ex and a forest demon. Do I get a certificate now? Or just more internal bleeding?”
A voice answered from the dark.
“मूर्ख मानव।” (Mūrkha mānava — Stupid human.)
I froze.
The sound didn't come from behind me.
It came from below.
He was there, on the temple floor.
Cross-legged. Eyes closed.
A brownie skinny saint with horn shadows and a tail that coiled lazily behind him.
The memory hit: The light-blade.
The gold eyes.
The savior rakasa (demon)
“You,” I rasped.
He didn’t open his eyes. “स्थिर तिष्ठ।” (Sthira tiṣṭha — Stay still.)
“Yeah, great,” I whispered, clutching the edge of the stone. “That’s… not a language I speak. now?”
He stood.
One step.
Two.
Too fast.
He didn't walk; he displaced the air.
“अस्मिन् देहे मरणं समीपे आसीत्।” (Death was close to this body.)
His tone wasn't gentle.
It was a command. A warning. My body didn't know the words, but it knew the power.
“Hey—okay,” I said, hands up. “I’m not moving. You’re in charge. Demon ji rules, I get it.”
he didn't speak , kept stare me .
"Look," I said, my voice still sounding like it had been dragged through gravel.
"I don't know if you’re a silent-vow type or if Sanskrit is just your 'vibe,' but we should probably introduce ourselves."
"I'm Vihaan," I stopped for a sec " I’m a... well, it doesn't matter what I am. I’m just a guy who took a wrong turn."
I did what any polite Delhi boy would do.
I reached out my right hand.
"Thanks for the save me back there. Truly."
They weren't gold anymore; they were liquid fire.
He didn't look at my hand.
He looked at me like I was a glitch in the universe.
He didn't move a muscle.
He was stiff, a statue of pure tension.
I left my hand hanging there.
Don’t be awkward, Vihaan.
Just a handshake.
Even demons have civil sense , right?
"Are we not doing the hand thing? Cool. No worries."
Suddenly, something whipped through the air.
It wasn't his hand.
It was the tail.
brown , muscular, and covered in scales that felt like cold silk, it wrapped around my wrist in a blur.
It didn't squeeze—not yet—but the strength behind it was terrifying.
It gave my hand a sharp, singular "shake."
I froze. My heart skipped a beat, then slammed against my ribs.
The contact wasn't just physical.
A jolt of something—cold, ancient, and heavy—shot up my arm and settled directly into the mark on my chest.
My breath hitched.
My skin prickled. Why am I not screaming? I should have been running for the exit.
I should have been crying. But instead, my brain was making jokes to keep me from shattering.
Is this the demon version of 'Nice to meet you'? Because it’s a bit forward for a first date.
I looked down at the tail, then up at him.
even I'm 5'8 ft .,he.. still looked too tall in human ...no , maybe human -demon forum.
Abhay was staring at my face, his expression unreadable—emotionless, but his pupils had blown wide.
Maybe , he looked startled.
Like he couldn’t understand why I was still standing there talking to him instead of crawling into a corner to die of terror.
“किम्… न भीतः?”
(Kim… na bhītaḥ? — What… not afraid?)
He said it under his breath. I didn't understand the words, but the vibration of his voice made my teeth ache.
"Why I skipped Sanskrit class" I whispered myself , my hand still caught in his tail’s grip. " “You’ll need more than a tail to shut me up.”
lying.
I was terrified.
But there was something else—a pull.
Like a magnet hidden in my marrow was trying to align itself with him.
The tail let go.
his body vibrating with a stiffness that felt like a coiled spring.
He looked at the exit of the temple, then back at me.
He didn't speak.
He didn't have to.
The look in his eyes said everything:
You are a mistake. And now you are mine to end .
__________________
YASH — POV
The fall knocked the air out of me.
I landed on my side, elbow taking most of it, snow crunching under my jacket like broken glass.
For a second everything was white noise — wind screaming, snow stinging my face like needles.
I pushed up onto one knee.
Breath steamed in front of me in thick clouds.
Fingers already numb at the tips.
No point staying down.
The others were gone.
I didn’t shout.
Sound gets eaten by snow like this — swallowed and thrown back wrong.
I just listened.
The wind had teeth tonight.
It didn’t blow straight — it curved, pushed, herded.
Everything funneled northeast, like the mountain was sweeping pieces off the board.
I turned northeast.
That was the way it wanted.
I started walking.
Boots crunched through the thin crust of snow.
Left, right.
Breathe in — lungs burn from the cold.
Breathe out — fog.
I kept seeing flashes: Vihaan laughing too loud at the campfire last night, breath clouding the air, Vani rolling her eyes while her scarf froze at the edges, Aarav checking his phone with gloves on.
Normal.
Stupid.
Safe.
Now they were somewhere in this white hell and I was here.
Alone.
That didn’t scare me as much as it should have.
I’ve always been okay alone.
I pulled my phone out — fingers clumsy already.
Screen frosted over instantly.
I wiped it on my sleeve.
One bar flickered, died.
I opened messages anyway.
The last text from that number still sat there.
“Status?”
My thumb hovered over the keyboard.
I closed the app.
Locked the screen.
Shoved it back in my pocket before the cold could kill the battery completely.
Not yet.
A branch snapped somewhere to my right — sharp, like ice cracking.
I stopped.
Turned my head slow.
_______________<<<___________
You’ve met the guardian.
Next chapter, you’ll learn what he protects — and what he doesn’t.
Monday or Tuesday. Don’t trust the silence.
.
- Writer
