Page 88 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
So admittedly, I’m more than fucking curious. Gideon’s description sounds like all my childhood dreams come to life.
The only gnawing reality is that I have unfinished business and that forming a relationship of any kind with this woman will mean potentially opening myself up to my own eventual doom. I’ve barely met her, but I have no doubt that if I hurl myself down this path with Violette, as this bond between us urges me to, I’ll end up just like my mother if something happened to her.
I don’t have much hope considering Winnow’s father, according to Gideon, was a god and got himself killed in some war.
Violette’s brows are deeply furrowed as her gaze remains fixed on me, tension tightening her expression as if she’s just as worried about this little plan of hers as I am. Or perhaps she is merely confused by my lack of protest.
I spent six months as a POW at the hands of truly evil men.
This woman?
My so-calledsoulbound?
Who resurrects long-dead boyish dreams of having a soulmate type of love, as my parents did?
The only thing about her that scares me is her capacity to die.
“Are you immortal?”
Her eyes narrow with suspicion at my line of questioning.
“Plotting my death already,soulbound?”
“I don’t need to kill you to escape,Miss Lark.”
Her expression tells me she’s unconvinced and unimpressed.
“Define immortal.”
“Can you die?”
She looks at me like I’ve grown an asshole in the center of my forehead.
“Of course I can die. Though not easily. My lifespan is equivalent to many millennia, should no grave incident befall me.”
Unease winds in my gut. “Define ‘grave incident’.”
She arches a brow at me. “Do you honestly think I’d confide all the many ways in which you could kill me?”
My heart sinks. So she can be killed. In a myriad of ways, apparently.
“And how common exactly is it that individuals such as yourself manage to be killed?”
She rolls her eyes, shrugging a shoulder as she seals the portal behind me and lets my body hit the floor with a solidthumpthat nearly knocks the wind out of me.
“Happens all the time.”
That tiny seed of hope in my chest is incinerated by those four simple words.
Violette, suddenly looking very studious despite her lingerie, begins mixing various herbs, liquids, and potions. Light glows, sparks fly, and vapors coalesce in the air as she murmurs unfamiliar words.
I can’t help but watch with held breath. She’s mesmerizing, and not only because of her beauty, but her gift, and this mastery of skill that I know nothing of, and have only ever witnessed in fantasy.
After a few moments, she turns to me, holding a vial filled with a liquid that seems to move all on its own. Like a miniature storm in a bottle. Without lifting a finger, my body rises at an angle until I’m positioned on my knees. My dick thickens as I stare up at her, bound and kneeling before her.
“Lorea da somna satura.”
She’s a fucking witch.
