Page 14 of Crowned In Venom

But we both know the truth.

This is only the beginning.

6

VARKOS

Ihave had countless women brought to my bed. None have intrigued me like this one.

Anya is different.

She should not be.

She should be just another human girl with soft skin and sharp edges that crumble under pressure. Another plaything meant to entertain, to serve, to be discarded when I grow bored.

But I am not bored.

And I should be.

I stand at the edge of the bed, watching her.

She sleeps on her side, facing the balcony, the moonlight spilling through the iron-barred doors, painting silvered lines across her bare shoulders. The silk sheets barely cover her, tangled around her hips, as if even in sleep, she resists being caged.

I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair.

Why does she unsettle me?

It is not just her defiance. I have broken defiant women before, turned their fire into ashes between my hands.

It is not just her beauty. I have had women more beautiful than her—and none of them have made my blood hum the way she does.

No, it is something else.

Something I cannot name.

And I hate that.

I replay the night’s events in my head.

The way she stepped forward when I expected her to retreat.

The way she let her dress slip to the floor, but never let go of her power.

The way she looked at me—not with submission, but with calculation.

She thinks she is playing me.

She thinks I do not see the game she is weaving, the intricate dance between power and control, between yielding and resisting.

I let her think she is winning.

Because that is how I will take her apart.

She has not realized yet that there is no winning against me.

The fire burns low in the hearth, filling the room with the lingering scent of embers and something faintly sweet— the lingering fragrance of her skin against the silk sheets.

It is maddening.

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