Page 265 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
I force a smile. “I’m only mildly offended that I was never personally invited.”
White fangs glinting in the amber glow, my father’s head tips back with laughter as if I’ve said something incredibly witty. It fills me with impossibly more unease. When his laughter wanes, his gaze returns to mine.
“Oh, I would have. If only I’d succeeded in finding you.”
His gaze seems to sharpen further.
My heart nearly arrests right then and there.
How I manage to keep a grin on my face, is a feat of epic proportions.
If it weren’t for the hum of rushing water and the distant music, I’m certain my gulp would be audible.
“Who are your guests?”
Thanks to my flueratheurgy skills, I’d managed to concoct a potion that would disguise their magic. And thanks to the masks, no glamour to conceal their identities was needed.
Still, I can’t help but search his expression for any hint of suspicion. But as his eyes cast over them, theirs no hint of recognition.
“This is Lazarus, his twin brother, Khepera, and Apophis.”
With the exception of Lazarus, the names feel foreign on my tongue, but there was no way in sacred fuck we’d risk giving their real names to him so we’d mutually agreed upon these pseudonyms.
My father’s gaze bounces between Lazarus and Azrael as he arches a brow.
“Twins, you say?”
I’m certain my smile looks more like a baring of teeth. “Yes.”
“How auspicious. Perhaps I’ll borrow them from you one day.”
Horror, disgust, and fury blisters my insides and the words slip free before I can stop them.
“Perhaps I’ll swim in your fucking blood.”
Sacred fuck.
At least, I managed to stifle the wordsyou sick fuck.
My father’s grin falters briefly as his gaze snaps to mine. The guards beside him go rigid. Hands reach for hilts. Only halting when his head tips back with another raucous laugh.
He closes the distance between us. I feel my males tense beside me, but I step forward to try and break their thread of tension, just as my father reaches out to slide his hand over my shoulder to lead me towards the shimmering aquatic barrier barring us from what I assume is the entrance to his palace.
Humor laces every word. Dare I say sincerity.
“Has my daughter grown blood thirsty? You make me proud.”
The edges of the father-shaped hole in my chest throb anew.
I shouldn’t care. He’s obviously joking.
But they’re words I’ve longed to hear my entire life.
Words that my heart refuses to ignore.
Thankfully, my mind knows better. And I’m certain those easily spoken words in jest were nothing but deliberate. He’s trying to play me, and the realization is all I need to rekindle the flames of my hatred.
“Not particularly. I just don’t share my toys.”
