Mahnoor's breath steadied as she lay there beside Rudra, the small, limp serpent curled in the bed next to her. Her body still throbbed from the relentless hours of mating, from the sheer force of his serpent strength that had pushed her to the edge of her physical limits. But now, in the aftermath, as her mind cleared and the exhaustion settled into her bones, another sensation began to stir deep within her—something darker, something far less forgiving.
The memories of their union, of the way he had taken her body and claimed her as his own, began to swirl in her mind. The pain, the pleasure, the overwhelming intensity of it all. It had been exhilarating, yes, but also brutal. Rudra had used her, pushed her beyond the brink of what any human should be able to endure. And even though he had healed her, restoring her body each time, the emotional toll was something else entirely.
Her fingers grazed the soft, vulnerable form of the snake lying beside her. He was so small now, so fragile. After all that power, after all that dominance, this was what was left of him—just a weak, defenseless creature, drained of his strength, his body reduced to something no larger than an ordinary serpent.
The contrast was almost absurd.
Mahnoor's hand paused on his smooth, cool scales, and a thought crept into her mind, a twisted thought that began to take hold with alarming intensity. She could feel the hatred bubbling up inside her—hatred for the way he had used her, for the way he had broken her down and rebuilt her just so he could continue to take what he wanted. She had given him her body, her endurance, but at what cost?
Her jaw clenched, her heart pounding harder in her chest as the realization hit her with a cold, hard clarity.
He thinks he owns me.
The serpent prince, the one who had taken her in that secluded, conjured space, hidden away from both the Naga and human worlds, had claimed her as his mate. He had marked her, bound her to him. And for what? For his pleasure? For his hunger? For his twisted, forbidden desires?
She stared down at him, her fingers tightening ever so slightly on his frail serpent form. He had taken everything from her—her control, her autonomy, her body—and now he lay there, weak, helpless, drained of the power that had made him so imposing just moments ago.
Mahnoor's breath quickened, her chest heaving as the rage began to rise within her, a storm of fury that she hadn't even realized was there. She had been his prey, his conquest, but now… now she had the upper hand.
And in that moment, something inside her snapped.
With a sudden surge of movement, Mahnoor's hands shot out, one gripping the small, coiled body of Rudra's snake form and the other wrapping around his head. His tail slithered weakly, barely offering any resistance as she tightened her grip, her fingers digging into his scales with a force that made her knuckles white.
She could feel him stirring, the faintest flicker of life still pulsing through his body, but it wasn't enough. He was too weak to fight back, too drained to resist.
"You thought you could own me?" she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice dripping with venom. "You thought you could use me like that? Break me, heal me, and then break me again?"
Her fingers tightened even more, her grip like iron as she wrapped his tail around her fist and twisted. Rudra's body writhed slightly, a weak hiss escaping his small, coiled form, but it was too late. He had no power left, no strength to fight her off.
Mahnoor's heart pounded in her chest as she pulled harder, twisting his serpent body with all the force she could muster. The sound of his scales scraping against one another filled the air, a sickening, grinding noise that only fueled her anger. She yanked again, harder this time, her muscles straining with the effort as she felt his body beginning to give way under her hands.
Rudra's small, helpless form wriggled, his body contorting unnaturally as Mahnoor's grip became more vicious, more determined. She pulled at him with a savage intensity, twisting his tail with one hand while the other gripped his head, her fingers digging into the soft, vulnerable spot just below his jaw.
A twisted smile began to spread across her face, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt his body weakening further, the resistance fading with each passing second. This was it—this was the moment she had waited for, the moment where she would reclaim her power.
I am not yours, she thought, her mind buzzing with a cold, calculating fury. I am not your possession.
And then, after what felt like an eternity, she heard it—the satisfying, sickening sound of tearing flesh. The unmistakable sound of something giving way, of something breaking. Mahnoor's eyes widened as she felt Rudra's body begin to tear apart beneath her hands, the delicate skin and muscle of his serpent form finally yielding to her force.
A low, guttural laugh escaped her lips as she pulled harder, her entire body trembling with the effort. She twisted his tail once more, yanking with all her strength, until—
RIP!
The sound echoed in the chamber, a wet, grotesque noise that sent a shiver down her spine. Mahnoor stared down at her hands, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as she realized what she had done.
Rudra's body lay in two halves—his tail in one hand, his head and upper body in the other. The once-powerful serpent prince, reduced to nothing more than a lifeless, torn creature. His body lay limp in her hands, completely destroyed.
Mahnoor let out a breathless, manic laugh, her chest heaving as the reality of what she had done washed over her. The rage that had fueled her began to ebb away, leaving behind a strange, hollow sensation in its wake.
She had killed him.
The serpent prince, the one who had taken her, used her, claimed her—he was gone. Reduced to nothing more than a broken, torn corpse.
Mahnoor's fingers trembled as she dropped the pieces of his body onto the bed, her eyes still wide with shock. The silence of the room was deafening, the weight of her actions pressing down on her like a heavy, suffocating blanket.
And yet, as she stared at the lifeless remains of Rudra's snake form, a dark, twisted thought began to take root in her mind.
What now? she wondered, her lips curling into a cruel, bitter smile. Maybe I'll make him into a pair of boots. Or a bag. Something to remember him by.
The thought made her laugh—a cold, empty sound that echoed through the chamber. After all, humans had been hunting serpents for their skin for centuries, turning them into luxury goods, trophies of their conquests. Perhaps it was only fitting that she, too, would claim a prize from this serpent prince who had thought he could claim her.
Mahnoor's laughter died down as she leaned back against the bed, her body still trembling from the adrenaline, the anger, the satisfaction of what she had just done.
She was free now.
Rudra was gone, reduced to nothingness, just like the serpent man from 400 years ago. And she… she had survived.