Page 143 of Crowned In Venom

It must have killed her.

I do not hesitate.

I grab the nearest sword, ignoring my injuries, ignoring the pain, ignoring everything except the single, primal instinct that surges through me.

Kill it.

My feet barely touch the ground as I lunge forward, rage flooding my veins.

The Matriarch shouts my name, but I don’t hear her.

All I see is the beast before me, the thing that stole her from me.

I raise my sword.

And I strike.

The blade plunges deep, piercing thick, unnatural flesh.

The monster does not move.

It does not fight back.

I rip the sword free, ready to swing again?—

"Varkos, STOP!"

The voice cuts through my fury.

I spin, my heart lurching.

Anya.

She is alive.

She stands behind the creature, her face pale, her wrists raw from shackles.

But she is not running.

She is not afraid.

She is not fighting.

She is protecting it.

The world tilts.

I turn back to the beast?—

And its monstrous, bulging eyes stare at me.

They do not hold anger.

They do not hold violence.

They hold recognition.

Something ancient, something familiar.

---