Page 277 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
And smiles.
Even as blood spills from his lips.
Untamed emotion leaks from my eyes as my heart pounds so loudly in my ears, I can scarcely hear the wet rasp of his words.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t who you needed me to be. It is my life’s greatest regret.”
An unrestrained roar of anguish tears from my throat. I press the blade further. Deeper. Twisting when it can go no further.
Instead of being horrified, I feel nothing but satisfaction as I get to witness my father’s suffering by my hand.
The waning of his grin.
The torment contorting his features.
The bending of his knees as he drops to one, and then the other.
The fine spray of blood that escapes his clenched teeth.
The agonized groan that resonates through his pierced chest and into mine.
And perhaps, most of all, the tears streaming down his cheeks.
Perhaps I am more like him than I would ever dare to admit.
Because how else could every blessed second of this feel like salvation.
Salvation from all the pain he inflicted in my life.
I feel no doubt. No remorse. Only sweet justice.
It isn’t until my father’s features slacken, and the striking luminosity in my father’s eyes—eyes that I had once prayed to see again—dims when the magic in Thessaly’s poison takes hold of my father’s body, that doubt begins to trickle in.
And a misplaced sense of panic strikes me.
My grip on the handle of the dagger loosens. His large body sways towards my mother’s tomb and he falls to his knees before crumpling against the pedestal.
Faster than I can anticipate, my father’s free hand grasps mine. I try to pull free, but his grip is shockingly strong for someone teetering on the precipice of death. He presses something small and jagged into my hand.
My eyes fall to the item in my now upturned palm.
Where a single gold and emerald earring sits.
The same earring I left for Horus on Lucen’s balcony.
Shock is swift to follow my confusion.
What the fuck?
His eyes dart between each of mine; voice a wet, choking rasp.
“Love..."
His throat works against the blood that doesn’t stop flowing.
“Love..."
My throat closes in time with his as he continues to swallow.
