THE DEMON KING WHO WAITED FOR HER
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE RETURN OF THE LOST DAUGHTER
The journey to Linah's village was long and quiet.
As the vehicle moved further away from the city and closer to the rural lands, Linah's heart beat faster with every passing tree and dusty road. This was the path she had walked so many times in her childhood, yet now it felt unfamiliar — not because the land had changed, but because she had.
She sat between Mako and Aunt Rose, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Aunt Rose kept glancing at her, as though afraid Linah might vanish again if she looked away for too long.
When the vehicle finally stopped near the village, Linah froze.
Her parents' homestead stood exactly as she remembered — modest, quiet, surrounded by old trees that had witnessed generations. The sight alone sent a sharp pain through her chest.
Before anyone could speak, Linah stepped out.
Her mother was the first to see her.
The woman dropped the bowl she was holding, her knees giving way as a cry tore from her throat. "Linah…?"
Her father turned sharply, and when his eyes fell on his daughter, the strength left his body. Tears streamed freely down his face as he rushed forward, pulling her into his arms.
"My child… our child," he sobbed. "We thought the earth swallowed you. We searched everywhere."
Linah broke down completely.
"I'm sorry," she cried. "I never meant to leave you like that. I didn't know how to come back."
The entire homestead filled with grief and relief as neighbors gathered, murmuring in disbelief.
The girl who had vanished without a trace had returned — alive, whole, and standing beside a man of great presence.
Aunt Rose stepped forward, wiping her tears, and greeted Linah's parents properly, explaining where Linah had been and how fate had guided her back. She spoke with humility and respect, honoring the elders as custom demanded.
Only after emotions settled did Mako step forward.
He lowered his head respectfully, his posture calm and deliberate. John followed closely behind him.
"We have come properly," John announced. "We have not come to steal a daughter. We have come to ask."
That single sentence shifted the atmosphere.
The elders were summoned. Mats were laid out beneath the shade of the trees.
Traditional gifts were presented — carefully chosen, respectfully placed. Each item spoke a language older than words: cattle, cloth, tokens of commitment and honor.
Linah sat quietly inside the house with her mother and Aunt Rose, as tradition required. Her heart pounded as voices rose and fell outside — negotiations unfolding slowly, respectfully, just as her ancestors had done.
Her mother held her hand tightly.
"You disappeared without a word," she whispered. "But today, you returned with dignity."
Hours passed.
Laughter occasionally broke through the serious tones, signaling progress. When at last the elders emerged smiling, Linah knew.
The bride price had been accepted.
Ululation filled the air. Joy replaced sorrow. Linah's parents wept again — this time not from loss, but from fulfillment. Their daughter had not only returned; she had been honored.
Mako did not rush to her.
He waited.
When Linah finally stepped outside, dressed modestly, eyes lowered, Mako met her gaze briefly — just enough to say everything that could not be spoken aloud. Love. Promise. Patience.
According to tradition, Linah was to remain with her parents until the wedding day.
And so, when the sun began to set, Mako prepared to leave without her.
The moment cut deeper than either of them expected.
As the vehicle drove away, Linah stood beside her parents, watching until it disappeared into the distance. Her chest ached, but she did not regret the decision. This was the path that honored everyone — the living and the ancestors alike.
That night, Mako could not sleep.
The mansion felt empty without Linah's presence. Every corner reminded him of her laughter, her strength, her quiet resilience. He closed his eyes, calling her name — not with his voice, but with his soul.
And Linah dreamed.
She found herself standing beside a river glowing under moonlight. The air was warm, peaceful. When she turned, Mako stood there — whole, calm, smiling softly.
This time, she did not fear.
"Mako," she breathed.
He reached for her hand, and she felt it — real, warm, undeniable.
"I miss you," he said.
"I'm here," she replied, smiling through tears.
They walked together along the riverbank, talking, laughing, sharing the joy they had been forced to hide in the waking world. No war. No enemies. Just them.
When Linah woke, her heart was light.
She knew then — no distance, no tradition, no realm could truly separate them.
The wedding would come.
And when it did, the world would tremble.
END OF CHAPTER NINETEEN