The Price of Power.

VELVET VIXENS' DOMAIN; THE SNAKE'S DEN...9PM

Murmurs echoed through the Snake's Den, a low buzz of confusion and unease weaving through the crowd of women. They had all been summoned without warning or explanation, and tension hung heavy in the air like smoke.

No rules had been broken,at least, none that they knew of. No warnings had been given, no punishments announced. Yet here they were, gathered in silence, trying to make sense of the unknown storm about to hit.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a jarring slam.

Two hefty men dragged in a young girl, her face soaked in tears, her body trembling with every frantic plea she made. Her legs scraped the floor as she struggled to understand what was happening. Panic clung to her like a second skin.

"Please, please, Madam Te," she sobbed, "what did I do? Why are you doing this?"

Shante followed closely behind, her steps silent, deliberate, cold. She wore eerie white contact lenses that masked her pupils entirely, making her gaze unreadable, inhuman. It was like staring into a void,no hint of emotion, no glimpse into her soul. Nothing.

Whispers filled the room, but not a single person dared raise their voice above a murmur. Something was off. Their leader, the composed and calculated Shante, seemed distant... disconnected.

"Everyone, quiet down!" Shante's voice cut like a blade through the room.

The murmurs died instantly.

Instead of heading to her throne seat like she usually did, Shante walked straight toward the center of the room, toward the girl who was now whimpering uncontrollably. Her nose ran, her lips quivered, her voice cracked from hours of desperate crying.

Shante stopped directly in front of her.

The girl reached out weakly, gripping Shante's hand in a silent plea. "Please, Madam Te... please, I don't know what I've done. I promise I'll behave, I promise to cooperate. Please don't hurt me... please."

"Shhhhh." Shante placed a finger gently on her own lips. The softness of the gesture didn't match the cold emptiness in her eyes.

There was a tremor in her breath, barely noticeable. Deep inside, her heart pounded in agony, but she refused to let it show. She had no other choice. No other way out. If she spared this girl, Mrs. LaRue would kill them both. If she sacrificed herself, Mrs. LaRue would still kill the girl,and laugh over Shante's naive sense of honor.

So she held it all in. The guilt. The rage. The sadness.

She sniffled softly and looked at the girl again. Her hand trembled just slightly. The girl stared back with hopeful, pleading eyes, eyes that believed Shante might save her.

That look nearly shattered her.

If only she had known. If only she hadn't interfered. If only she'd turned away.

She couldn't afford to cry,not here, not now. Not in front of the women who saw her as their fortress, their sword.

Shante crouched down and leaned in close to the girl's ear, her smile painfully sweet. Her voice, gentle.

"You did nothing wrong," she whispered. "So I'll make your death less painful."

The girl's eyes widened in horror. She didn't even have the time to respond.

In one swift, smooth motion, Shante plunged a needle into her vein.

The girl gasped. Her face turned purple almost instantly. Her body stiffened. Then she collapsed,dead.

The room was silent.

No one moved. No one breathed.

It was the most effortless execution they'd ever seen Shante perform. None of them even knew what the girl's offense was,and oddly, most didn't care. They trusted Shante, blindly. If she passed judgment, they believed there had to be a reason.

Still, something about this felt different.

Shante stood silently over the corpse, eyes closed, breathing slowly, trying to collect herself.

She knelt again, gently closing the girl's wide, lifeless eyes.

Then, she stood tall, turned to the men who brought her in, and spoke with calm authority.

"Take her to the Lilith's Coven."

Gasps rippled through the room. Whispers turned to murmurs. Murmurs turned to chatter. The chatter escalated to full-blown confusion.

The Lilith's Coven?

That was sacred ground. Reserved for the honored dead. Only one person had ever been granted the privilege of resting there,the former leader who died saving the entire club.

And now... this girl?

The two men hesitated, their expressions flickering with confusion. But they obeyed, lifting the girl's body and carrying her out without a word.

Shante watched them go, a sad smile flickering across her lips before she turned and walked slowly to her throne.

As soon as she sat, silence fell again.

"Viper's Nest," she called softly, her voice barely a whisper.

"Velvet Vixens," the women responded in unison.

But she said nothing else. Her gaze drifted into space, hollow and tired.

Seconds passed. Then minutes.

Her eyes remained closed, and when she finally opened them, her voice was low and heavy.

"Why do you allow men to treat you like whores?" she asked, her tone almost mournful. "Why do you act defenseless, weak, fragile in front of them? Do you not see? Your silence... your passivity... it gives them power. It feeds their delusions."

The room stayed still, the air tense.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. Her voice rose with fire.

"You don't know self-defense? If you're not in the mood, if you're not interested, can't you say it clearly? With authority? Why let a man force his way into you when you know exactly where to strike? Their weakness is no secret."

"I won't always be there," she snapped, her voice louder now, "I won't always be able to save you. So why do you keep acting like you need saving?"

Her eyes burned into every face in the room.

"How many times have I warned you? How many times have I screamed at you to wake the fuck up? You plead with men to stop while their hands are around your throat. You cry for help when you could've ended it with a single move."

"They call you whore. Slut. Bitch. They say it to break you, to make you feel small. And foolishly, you let them. You let their words strip away your strength."

"FUCK THAT." She slammed her palm on the armrest of her throne, making several of the girls jump.

"Fuck them and their words. I don't care if the whole world calls you a slut,give yourself some fucking respect! Stop showing them your weakness. Stop giving them the satisfaction."

She stood now, her presence towering, her voice sharper than ever.

"Don't forget, the power to destroy them is already in your hands. You don't need to beg. You don't need to cry. You fucking dominate."

She took a slow, menacing step forward.

"If any one of you ever gets raped... if I find out you cried for help instead of fighting back..." Her voice dropped, filled with venom.

"I swear on everything I believe in,I'll kill you myself. With my bare fucking hands."

She stared at them one last time, rage burning in her bones. And then, without another word, she turned on her heels and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

The silence that followed was deafening.

As soon as the echo of the door faded, whispers crept back in. Uneasy. Confused. Nervous.

But one thing was certain:

Their leader had reached a breaking point.

And something deep within the Snake's Den had shifted forever.