Page 34 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
The dark velvet voice causes Lucen to grow rigid. His smile falls, eyes lifting to someone standing behind me. An intense, hair-raising magic—god-magic—whispers over my skin; it seemsto writhe against mine—the sensation is gentle but foreign. Like a stray cat winding around a stranger’s leg. I blame that for the unfamiliar tension in my chest squeezing so tightly it pushes the breath from my lungs.
Our intruder steps parallel to our table, drawing my gazeup, up, upto a pair of amber eyes that are somehow both startlingly bright and feather-soft, framed by long dark lashes. His features are too perfect—modelesque—outside of the slight bump in the center of his nose that suggests it’s been broken a few times. His sculpted form is clearly discernible from beneath the immaculately tailored, albeit strangely fashioned, suit—a style I have only ever seen depicted in textbooks about Terranean cultures and customs.
Akash almighty, why can’t I breathe?
His gaze is too discerning. Too penetrative. Too keen.
A dazzling grin splits his carved, square jaw. “What might a gentle soul such as yourself be doing in the company of such a scoundrel?”
My heart is pounding—though I cannot fathom why.
Does he know who I am?
“Have we met?”
Lucen’s discomfort is palpable. Each word feels like the spoken equivalent of a nut being crushed with a steel cracker. “Raia, this is Azrael. More commonly known as the Vassileon realm’s God of Death.”
I have to force my expression to remain neutral to mask my shock. Vassileo’s God of Death is an infamous one. Dangerous. Vulnerable to his whims, desires, and temper.
Azrael’s grin turns hollow as he redirects his attention towards Lucen and seems to pointedly add, “And endings. As much as people like to forget.”
Lucen’s smile is more of a wince. “Azrael is a... deeply valued client of mine and my family’s.”
The brief silence darkening our table passes like an eternity of suffering.
“There you are.”
A breathtakingly beautiful female with horns and bat-like wings appears at Azrael’s side, dressed in little more than a shimmering napkin, and drapes herself over one thickly muscled arm as if she were the coat and he, the hanger.
They paint the perfect picture.
And I am instantly repulsed.
Though Azrael doesn’t look pleased to see her despite her astonishing beauty.
“Larae, this is Raia and Lucen.”
She smiles, dipping her head in greeting. “It’s a pleasure.”
My magic is quick to inform me that this female isnothissoulbound.The clear, distinguishable line between Azrael and hissoulbound’stether, while it isn’t strong, tells me that they have indeed met and spent enough time in one another’s presence to solidify it.
And yet, here he is.
With another female.
Hatred is not a strong enough word to describe my feelings towards thisGod of Death and Endings.
Perhaps that is why my heart pounds like a war drum.
A montage of bloodshed illuminates my mind’s eye as I envision inflicting every fathomable torture upon Azrael.
As if he can sense where my thoughts have drifted, Azrael’s eyes drift back to mine, brows knitting together as they narrow and form a question.
“I’m afraid I have some matters to attend to, and we’ll have to call it an early night, my dear.”
The words are directed at her, though his gaze remains on me. I am quick to break the connection, returning my eyes to the comfort of Lucen.
“Oh, what a pity,” Larae says.
