Page 276 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
“May I ask for you to remove your mask? Please?”
I’m surprised by the question, and I tell myself the only reason I acquiesce is so that he may fully look upon my face as I spill his blood.
My heart begins to pound at the thought; as I recognize I am standing at the precipice of everything I not only vowed, but promised to myself.
That if there ever was a time for me to do it, it would be here, right now, in this mausoleum, with the cervahnith... somewhere nearby.
Like every single slat of this bridge of fate has been laid, and now, all I need to do is cross it.
But I need one more answer.
“How did my mother die?”
The streaks of bright silver in my father’s eyes flash even as the gunmetal-gray of his irises darken. His features remain impassive. He remains silent.
My heart pounds harder.
“There is but one person I love more than I loved her.”
My hands tremble as the backs of my eyes burn.
How dare he.
“Don’t you dare say it.”
Even as I say the words, even as horribly selfish it is to want to hear such a thing from this psychopathic murderer and master manipulator, I feel as though I need to hear them.
My father shifts to turn his body towards mine. “Until you disappeared, I’d watched you—at first, it was to make sure youwere safe. That you were happy. But then I got to witness your bravery, your compassion, your generosity... your impulsivity, your pettiness, your wrath.”
I shake my head in disbelief, as his voice turns hollow. “What? How?”
Guilt shines in my father’s eyes. His throat dips. His mouth opens and closes as if on the cusp of some confession.
“There were countless occasions when I nearly came to you. But each time I grew weak and nearly broke my promise to myself, and your mother. Akash would gift me some beautiful moment displaying one of your many virtues or a vice, and it would remind me of exactly why I needed to stay away.”
I feel like my psyche is fracturing and it takes physical effort to maintain my posture. Magic courses through me like a cord being driven through with too powerful a current of electricity. Sparks of it crackle at my fingertips, darken my claws and the length of my digits—even tips of my horns tingle.
“Did you kill her?”
Anguish darkens my father’s glistening eyes as they study mine.
He takes another step towards me, shaking his head in dismay.
“It was an accident... I told you it broke me when she took you from me.”
I knew it.
All these years of cowardice, ignoring what I intuitively knew.
A weight manifests in my palm and my fingers close around the handle of a curved dagger tipped with a poison Thessaly once taught me how to make—the kind of poison powerful enough to kill a god.
I don’t hesitate.
I lunge forward.
The blade glides through flesh and bone with preternatural ease.
My father’s eyes widen—not in shock, but in pain. A choking sound escapes him as his brows knit together, eyes briefly clenching shut before he opens them to return his gaze to mine.
