𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟏𝟕. Panic Attack !

･:*࿔.ೃ⋆❀˚༺☆༻°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Author Pov

"Maut... se dar nahi lagta, Aaakarsh... par... saanp se lagta hai. I just... can't... han—ha..."

Her words faltered into ragged, heavy breaths, and suddenly the playful fun in Aakarsh's expression faltered too. His amusement vanished, replaced by something sharper, quieter, deeper.

He looked at her slowly, taking in the rise and fall of her chest, the slight tremor in her fingers, the sheen of sweat at her hairline. And with that look... all his doubts about her facade—the fire, the strength, the fierce, untouchable Ikshita everyone feared—began to shatter. Piece by piece, they became painfully, undeniably true.

"Ikshita," he called softly, deliberately, his voice a tether trying to pull her from the storm she was drowning in.

Her eyes were fixed on him, wide, unblinking, yet her mind raced desperately. I'm on the lap of my family's rival. I mustn't... I mustn't let him see how scared I am. The snake... it's harmless... he's just teasing...

But her heart knew the truth before her mind could even rationalize it.

The snake coiled, elegant and lethal, its black eyes glinting with cold intelligence. Her chest tightened. That's no ordinary snake. That's the cobra king.

Every instinct screamed at her to flee, to push away, to run—yet she couldn't. Her body froze, caught between fear, awe, and something more dangerous: the pull of the man holding her, steady and untouchable, like he owned both her fear and herself.

Just one touch of that tongue... one brush of those fangs, and life could be ripped out, stolen in an instant.

Her mind flashed violently to an old memory—something she had seen on TV. A man, lifeless, mouth frothing white, body turning a sickly blue as the venom coursed through him. The memory clawed at her stomach, made her limbs tighten, made her chest seize.

"Mahadeva... aone... sarp ko le jaiye," she muttered under her breath, eyes locked on the cobra, every syllable a prayer, a plea she barely believed could save her.

But Aakarsh... he didn't move, didn't flinch, didn't even seem to hear her whispered prayer. He just stared at her, unblinking, as if time itself had stopped.

The world around them—the rustle of the snake, the distant shadows, the tension in her own body—faded into nothing. All that existed was his gaze, sharp and unyielding, a tether she couldn't break even if she wanted to.

Her pulse hammered in her ears, every instinct screaming danger, every rational thought drowned by the sheer intensity of him. For a moment, she couldn't even remember if she was terrified... or alive.

"Daisy... look at me," he called, voice low but impossible to ignore, as he slowly guided the snake back to its partner. Every movement was deliberate, measured—like he was orchestrating a storm and she was caught in the eye.

"No! No—don't touch me with that hand!" she shouted as he raised it toward her, panic spilling from every word. But he only shook his head, firm, unyielding, and without warning, guided her down onto his lap, making her flail against him, startled, helpless.

"Shut up. Look at me," he commanded, voice sharp, edged with that quiet authority that made it impossible to argue.

"NO! NO! SNAKE IS POISON—POISON IS HARM—HARM BRINGS PAIN—PAIN IS FAILURE—FAILURE IS LOSING CONTROL! I want... I want power... I want control! No... no... no!" Her words tumbled out in frantic bursts, chaotic and disjointed, a raw torrent of fear and logic colliding. Her mind spun, unable to make sense, and her body shook against him as he just watched, steady, unflinching.