Page 318 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
I nod in acceptance. “Thank you, Charon..."
Bowing again, Charon’s features flicker with concern, the recognition of which causes an unexpected swell of gratitude to fill my chest. Despite all my failures and shortcomings, this male has always been loyal and kind. Never cast a judgmental eye in my direction when so many others have.
“For everything,” I add, hoping he can feel the sincerity of these too few words as I lower my head and shoulders in a bow.
An appreciative smile graces his lips as he bows lower. “As always, it is an honor, Your Majesty.”
“Goodnight, Charon. Send Monette my gratitude as well, please.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Charon gives a final dip of his head in acquiescence before turning to disappear down the hallway. Drawing in a deep breath to brace myself, I shut the door behind me.
Stare down at the scroll.
Fuck.
The moment I look up, Violette’s gaze locks with mine. The fingers of one hand hover over her lips, her voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s from him, isn’t it?”
Nodding, I swiftly lift the seal.
My precious soulbound, Violette & Levi,
Allow me to put your fears to rest; I haven’t concocted another way to die.
I am alive, physically well, and I have a new plan... since dying simply isn’t in the cards for me.
By the time you read this, I will have drunk from The River Oblivion, and all of my memories will have dissipated into the aether.
Consider it a much-needed sabbatical.
A healing.
After which, Mors and Persephone will return me to you.
I am yours—mind, body, and soul.
Closing my eyes,I roll it up again, wishing I could burn it to ash.
Yet more heartbreak for Violette and Levi to endure.
AZRAEL
Longing settles in my chest as I stare out at the placid ocean surrounding us on Mors’ sailboat. It’s a warm and sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky. Persephone lounges on the foredeck across from me, absently rubbing her pregnant belly as she reads a weathered-looking paperback with the illustration of a cowboy embracing a pink-haired demoness on the cover.
I feel at peace, and while I have no memory to tell me why, I sense that this is a feeling I haven’t had in quite some time. If Persephone’s words are to be trusted, and I truly was suicidal until my dip in the river, this seems all the more plausible.
Yet, something is missing.
Scanning the sparkling blue, I feel as though I’m waiting for someone—perhaps a mermaid—to appear.
Sensing my wandering thoughts, Persephone peeks at me from over the edge of her book. “How are we feeling, darling?”
“Very well... It’s beautiful here.” It isn’t a lie. I feel exceedingly well. It’s just this strange tickling sensation in the back of my mind that I can’t quite put into words.
She watches me, not entirely satisfied with the answer.
Mors’ head pops up from beneath the surface of the water, speargun in one hand, and a large striped fish in the other. Setting them on the rear platform at the back, he hauls himself up the ladder and onto the boat. Amusement tilts my lips as I watch lust hood Persephone’s eyes at the sight of water sluicing down Mors’ towering, heavily muscled form. Even with his wingswilledaway and looking relatively human, he’s as striking as hissoulbound.
