I remember the first time I saw Paro—she was dancing barefoot in the rain, laughing as if the world had never known sorrow. I stood at the edge of the field, flute in hand, snakes coiled calmly around my arms, unnoticed. She turned, saw me, and didn’t run. She smiled.\n\nThat was weeks ago. Now, every night, I watch her window from the shadows, keeping the nightmares away—the slithering visions sent by the Mother Snake to scare her. Tonight, I see men scaling the walls of her home. Choudhry’s men. Again.\n\nI move silently, snakes ahead of me like living shadows. I don’t want to kill them. But I will. For her.\n\nAs I drag the last one into the darkness, Paro appears at the door, wrapped in a shawl, eyes wide.\n\n‘You saved me,’ she whispers. ‘But at what cost?’\n\nBehind me, the jungle stirs. Something ancient is coming. And this time, it won’t stop until I’m dead—or hers.