Page 157 of Crowned In Venom

I cannot breathe.

Why?

47

ANYA

Asharp noise cuts through my sleep, pulling me from the depths of exhaustion. I stir, my fingers curling against the warmth beside me, but something is wrong. The air is different—thicker, charged with tension.

Varkos is standing, his muscles coiled tight, his blade in hand.

I blink the haze from my eyes, following his gaze?—

And then I see him.

The Ghost.

The hooded figure stands in the dim firelight, his presence unnatural, his stillness almost inhuman.

But it’s his words that send a cold bolt through my spine.

"I was the one who tipped off the Matriarch."

A violent shudder rocks through me.

No.

I push myself upright, breath sharp.

Varkos does not move.

He is stone.

"Why?" His voice is hoarse, raw, barely restrained.

His grip on the dagger is white-knuckled, his entire body trembling with something I don’t know if it’s rage or desperation.

I reach for him, my fingers grazing his forearm.

A grounding touch.

He does not shake me off.

"You served my father," Varkos breathes, voice thin. "Why would you betray him?"

The Ghost tilts his head slightly, unreadable beneath the deep hood.

"I did not betray him."

Varkos bristles, shoulders going rigid.

"You told her!" He snarls. "You told her I was poisoning her!"

The Ghost finally moves.

A slow step forward, deliberate, calculated.

"Yes," he murmurs. "And I replaced it."

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