As the night settled over the hidden sanctuary Rudra had conjured, the room grew eerily quiet. The weight of what had transpired between them lingered in the air, a thick, oppressive silence that neither of them could escape. Mahnoor lay on the bed Rudra had made for her, the cool silk sheets brushing against her skin as she stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with a mix of fear and confusion.
Rudra had pulled away from her, conjuring a separate bed for himself at the far side of the room. The act itself seemed simple—an unspoken declaration of distance—but it tugged at something deep within Mahnoor. She had been scared of him, terrified of the power he wielded and the fury that simmered just beneath the surface of his skin. Yet, in this strange, twisted way, she felt more alone without him by her side.
She couldn't understand the feelings swirling inside her. It made no sense, the way she longed for his presence, even after everything. But there was something about the way he had claimed her—about the way he had bound her to him, body and soul—that left her feeling tethered to him, even in the darkest moments.
As the minutes dragged on, the silence grew heavier, more suffocating. Mahnoor pulled the red silk shawl Rudra had given her closer around her body, the fabric barely clinging to her as she turned her head to look at him. He lay on his bed, his muscular form sprawled across the sheets, his breathing deep and even as if he were on the cusp of sleep.
The distance between them felt unbearable. She knew she should hate him—resent him for the control he had over her, for the way he had dominated her life. But in that moment, all she could think about was the fear that gnawed at her, the loneliness that crept in with the night.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Mahnoor slid off the bed, her bare feet making the faintest sound on the floor as she padded quietly toward him. The red shawl slipped from her shoulder, barely clinging to her as she approached, her heart pounding in her chest. She moved without thinking, driven by an instinct she couldn't fully explain.
Rudra shifted slightly, his eyes half-open as he sensed her approach. He didn't say a word as she laid herself beside him, the warmth of his body drawing her in like a moth to a flame. Her body trembled slightly as she nestled against his chest, her hands hesitantly resting on his bare skin. His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath her fingers, a strange contrast to the chaotic emotions swirling inside her.
He looked down at her, his gaze sharp and unreadable, but he didn't push her away. Instead, he lay still, allowing her to snuggle into him, though his body remained tense under her touch.
"I made a separate bed for a reason," he said quietly, his voice low and gruff. His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, a reminder that his patience had limits.
Mahnoor didn't move, her face buried in his chest, her breath warm against his skin. "I know," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But I was feeling alone... and scared. Please... just let me lay with you."
Rudra exhaled, his chest rising and falling beneath her cheek. He could feel the soft, wet touch of her tears as they fell silently onto his skin, soaking into him. The weight of her vulnerability pressed against him, and for a brief moment, he felt a flicker of something unfamiliar. A strange tug in his chest that he hadn't expected.
But it wasn't enough to soften him completely.
"I sleep in my true form," he said after a long pause, his voice still cold, though not unkind. "You won't have my human form to cuddle into when I sleep. You won't like it, Mahnoor. I can't be what you want right now. So go back to your bed."
She shook her head stubbornly, her tears falling more freely now, her fingers clutching at his chest as though she were holding onto the last thread of safety she had. "No," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and desperation. "It's fine. I don't care... I just want your presence. I don't want to be alone."
Her words hung in the air, fragile and heavy. Rudra felt her trembling against him, the raw emotion in her voice cutting through the stoic barrier he had built around himself. She was scared. Not just of him, but of the darkness, of the unknown, of the strange, dangerous world she had been thrust into.
For a long moment, he said nothing, his gaze locked on the ceiling as he wrestled with his own thoughts. He had never been one to comfort or soothe. That wasn't his role. He was a prince, a serpent prince, bound by his own instincts and the rigid rules of his world.
But something about Mahnoor's vulnerability made him pause. Perhaps it was the way her tears soaked into his chest, or the way her small body seemed to tremble against his own. Perhaps it was the faint, barely perceptible spark of humanity that still flickered somewhere deep inside him—something he had long since buried beneath layers of dominance and ego.
Finally, with a slow, resigned sigh, he wrapped one arm around her, pulling her closer against him. His grip was firm but not harsh, his touch possessive but not cruel. It was as though he were acknowledging her need for comfort, even if he didn't fully understand it.
"I'll allow this... for tonight," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But don't mistake this for anything more than what it is. You belong to me, Mahnoor. And I can still destroy you if you push me too far."
Mahnoor nodded against his chest, her breath hitching as she let out a quiet sob. She didn't care about his warnings or the danger that still lurked beneath his touch. In that moment, all she cared about was the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, and the fleeting comfort she found in his presence.
For the first time since their twisted union began, she felt a strange sense of peace—a fragile, fleeting peace that she knew could shatter at any moment. But for now, she allowed herself to sink into it, her tears drying against his skin as sleep finally began to claim her.
Rudra lay still, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts racing as he held her trembling form in his arms. He didn't understand the pull she had over him, the strange sense of duty or care that had surfaced when she had come to him in tears.
But as the night deepened and her breathing softened into the steady rhythm of sleep, he couldn't deny that something had shifted between them. Something he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to confront.
And so, as the darkness of the night enveloped them both, Rudra allowed himself to slip into his true form. His body lengthened, his skin shimmering as scales replaced flesh, his massive serpent form coiling around Mahnoor as she lay beside him.
Even in his snake form, she didn't stir, her body still pressed against his scaled chest, her fingers unconsciously gripping the smooth, cold surface of his coils. And for the first time in a long while, Rudra felt the faintest whisper of something he couldn't name—a strange, unspoken connection that tied them together in ways neither of them could fully understand.
But for tonight, it was enough.