Page 112 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
Guilt settles somewhere on my chest.
“And I am intimately familiar with such things,” he adds.
My gaze returns to his. One of Azrael’s large hands lifts. Then hovers in the vicinity of my face, waiting to see if I will turn away.
I do not move.
I do not breathe.
His large, warm palm gently cradles my jaw. Despite the fact this male is not mysoulbound,something in his touch manages to soothe my aching soul. Azrael’s thumb slowly caresses the apple of my cheek as his eyes hold mine.
“Perhaps, I am interested in a bargain with you after all.”
LEVI
“You are a fool.” Somnus’s voice is ripe with both disdain and boredom as he watches me gaze up at the enormous wall of water illuminated behind a glass panel through which he scries. Rage like I have never known courses through my body at the sight of Violette being touched by another male—Azrael, the-God-of-fucking-Death, according to Somnus.
I have no doubt this is why I was left a note being told to find Somnus.
And why I was called a jackass.
However, all thoughts ofwhomight have left it have evaporated.
Somnus continues speaking, but the words fall upon deaf ears because my entire world has been reduced to Violette and Azrael’s points of contact. The way his palm holds her head, his thumb gingerly caressing her cheek, swiping away the tears that spill forme.
How his eyes dip to her gently parted lips.
The tension there is palpable, winding tighter and tighter. The jealousy in my veins feels like a poisonous flame, burning, searing, and sickening.
You did this.
I feel the scarcest amount of relief when he withdraws and takes a singular step back. Violette’s arms wrap around herself, looking more heartbroken than I could have ever possibly imagined this formidable female ever being.
Somnus is right.
I am a fool.
“I can sense death... and one’s desire for it.”
I am essentially doing to Violette what our fathers did to our mothers, and thus, abandoning her to the same fate.
Dying of a broken heart.
I am such a fucking asshole.
Azrael’s words are the final nail in the coffin.
“I’ll take care of the bond so long as you allow me to court you in full syrith tradition.”
Syrith tradition? What the fuck is that?
Violette’s soft gasp is followed by more tears, head shaking in disbelief.
“That is a cruel bargain.”
Azrael’s soft expression hardens, a familiar attempt to hide the pain behind his eyes. “If I am known for anything at all, it is cruelty, little seraphim. You know this.”
Say no.
