Page 113 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
My regret is bitter and overwhelming that it took this inconceivable event for me to see the error of my ways—the God of Dreams to visit me in my sleep and reveal a window into Violette’s reality where she bargains witha fucking death god.
Watching her hesitate to refuse him, I can’t breathe. Helplessness is not a feeling I am familiar with, but I am certain that’s the name of this wretched, fiery panic searing my veins and gnawing through my chest.
Violette sniffs, somehow managing to give the God of Death a malevolent sneer even as tears continue to wash her cheeks.
“Cruelty is a condition of the male species.”
Azrael huffs a mirthless laugh. “I can assure you that it was not a male who inspired me to be this way.”
Violette shakes her head in disbelief. “And if I could, you still wouldn’t wish for me to find Persephone for you?”
The mask of charm the god wears slips again, the pain behind it clear. Something I can begrudgingly empathize with.
“Darling, it would be a wasted effort. I’ve spent aeons chasing her. Found her myself, time and time again. I already know where she is.”
Violette’s lips part in shock. Azrael gives her a sad smirk.
I’d love to know why, fucker.
“One person can only take so much rejection.”
Violette’s features tense as an emotion I don’t yet recognize shadows her gaze.
“Then you should know something... It might make you feel differently about me.”
Azrael’s brow arches with intrigue. “Ooooh. Pray tell.”
Violette’s throat dips, as her eyes glisten even as she forces her spine to straighten and her chin to lift.
“Sometime, not long after we met... I began working at a brothel.”
Oh, fuck. She’s ashamed of it.Pain spears through me at the realization.
Azrael’s brows leap, though there’s no judgment.
“How very salacious, darling. Did you enjoy it?”
Violette’s brows knit together as if in disbelief. Wary, as if expecting to be admonished. “... Sometimes, yes. Other times, I hated it. It is not a career I would willingly go back to.”
What I can only describe as quiet fury darkens Azrael’s features.
“Did... Lucen force you into this work?”
Lucen... Who the fuck is Lucen?
Violette huffs a mirthless laugh. “Oddly enough, no.”
Azrael steps forward to caress her hair and my own fury returns at that point of contact.
“Little seraphim, I hold you in just as high a regard now as I did when I first met you. Your past changes nothing.”
Violette’s gaze searches his as if she can’t quite believe his words—words that earn even my begrudging respect.
A tear slips down her cheek, which he gently swipes away.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Violette. If anything, I admire you more for it because no matter what you’ve been through, your soul is filled with just as much love and virtue now as it was then. It hasn’t been cowed in the slightest.”
Violette laughs it off. “I have a hard time believing that.”
