Page 142 of Crowned In Venom

The Matriarch stops whistling.

Her silver eyes narrow.

"What is this?" she murmurs.

Panic surges in my veins.

I don’t think.

I run.

The guards shout after me, but I don’t care.

I race toward the dungeon, my boots pounding against the stone floor, the walls shuddering around me.

The magic barrier protecting the cells flickers—then vanishes.

"No—"

I reach the iron doors, shoving past two guards who are already drawing their weapons.

And then?—

I see it.

Chaos.

Guards are screaming, bodies flung across the room, some broken, some crushed under something massive.

Something monstrous.

I freeze.

The thing stands in the center of the room, its hulking form blocking the torchlight, casting long, twisted shadows against the walls.

It is towering, grotesque—its flesh is warped, its limbs too long, its chest heaving with rage.

And it is winning.

Magic does not touch it.

Blades do not cut it.

It is fury incarnate.

I inhale sharply, my stomach twisting violently.

"Where is she?"

I do not see Anya.

There is no body.

No blood.

The thought shreds through me.

This thing—this nightmare?—

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