Page 71 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
“However, if you cause any more trouble in Caerwynath, I will personally deliver you to your father.”
An icy tendril of fear licks up my spine.
My mind leaps to Azrael, as it always does, even after all these years, with the irrational notion that he would keep me safe. I havewilledhis pin to my fingers on numerous occasions—whether in danger, distress, or general moments of weakness.
I have yet to find the strength, or logic, that would allow me to follow through.
With burning eyes, I give Queen Theia a nod of assent.
“Understood.”
She studies me for a moment longer.
“You will take me to Winnow. Now.”
Setting the waste basket down atop my desk, I brace myself in front of it, head hanging, as I suck in deep breaths and spit the lingering bile in my mouth. I manage a hoarse whisper as Iwilla portal into place.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
VIOLETTE
Queen Theia’s expression is nothing short of withering as her gaze dances between Winnow and Gideon. “Perhaps the location she chose wasn’t entirely coincidental.” At the Duchess Winnow’s words, I train my features into a neutral expression as my eyes slide to meet hers from where I’m standing beside the portal opened between Bellorum and Terrenea; more specifically, her soulbound Gideon’s cattle ranch.
Did Theia whisper something in Winnow’s mind?
Despite my malicious intent, my threadbare compassion compelled me to dump the Duchess in the relative vicinity of her humansoulbound. To give her some kind of chance.
Not that I should have cared.
At all.
What foolishness that would be.
To feel any modicum of joy or fulfillment at playing any part in uniting Duchess Winnow with hersoulbound.
To allow myself to feel any whisper of peace knowing that at least someone had found the other half of their soul in this dreadful world.
Utter absurdity.
A phantom weight presses upon my chest, followed by a burning tug that I swear is trying to steal my breath.
Get a hold of yourself.
Of their own volition, my eyes are drawn to the tall, tattooed, rough-looking male standing several feet away. For some unfathomable reason, my heart stutters when I discover him already staring at me. Expression ice cold, if not borderline contemptuous.
I’m half tempted to justify his disdain.
How dare this crass human male cast his brutish gaze upon me?
With each passing moment, the tugging in my chest grows until it becomes a visceral, unrelenting thing.
Deep breaths.
The mere color of his eyes is not why your heart feels like a bird in a cage.
You simply haven’t been tending to your own needs.
So what if he has perfectly sculpted muscles and a razor-sharp jaw?
