Page 130 of Crowned In Venom

ANYA

The air in the dungeon is thick, suffocating—a mixture of damp stone, decay, and something worse. Something rotten, something long dead but still breathing.

I try not to gag, but the stench clings to my skin, filling my mouth with the taste of ruin.

It’s dark here. The torches flicker weakly, casting jagged shadows against the walls, barely enough to keep the darkness at bay.

And I am not alone.

The thing lurks in the farthest corner.

I can hear its breathing—ragged, unnatural, like something is crawling beneath its flesh, like its very existence is a mistake.

I swallow hard, my back pressed against the cold stone.

The shackles on my wrists are heavy, biting into my skin. I should be focusing on escape.

But all I can think about is Varkos.

His blood was on my hands. His body crumpled into mine.

Is he even still alive?

The Matriarch said she wouldn't let him die, but how could I believe anything that monster says?

My stomach twists violently.

I need to get out. I need to find him.

I take a shuddering breath and push myself up, my legs shaking beneath me.

And then, I do the only thing I can.

I scream.

"Varkos! Guards, I need to see him!"

The sound echoes off the walls, bouncing through the hollow, cursed halls of the dungeon.

I wait.

Silence.

I grit my teeth and try again, louder, more desperate.

"VARKOS! LET ME OUT"

A low, rumbling growl crawls through the darkness.

"Shut. Up."

I go rigid.

It speaks.

The thing in the corner moves, a grotesque shifting of rotting flesh and twisted limbs.

A chill rakes down my spine. What is this thing?

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