Page 116 of Crowned In Venom

Anya’s body jerks.

A sharp, shuddering breath escapes her lips.

Anya does not speak.

But she turns her head, ever so slightly, and meets my gaze.

My stomach turns.

Because I see it.

Not pleading.

Not begging.

She is searching.

For me.

A choice.

A warning.

And something inside me snaps.

I stand.

"Enough."

My voice cuts through the air, razor-sharp, unyielding.

The Matriarch stills.

Slowly, she turns.

Her silver eyes lock onto mine, gleaming with amusement.

She did not expect me to break.

She expected me to sit here and watch her bleed out.

She expected me to be hers.

But I have already chosen.

Not survival.

Not duty.

Not my mission.

Her.

I have already chosen Anya.

Even if it means my ruin.

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