Page 164 of Crowned In Venom

She cups my face, her thumbs brushing against my cheekbones.

"Varkos," she whispers.

My heart aches.

"It's my turn to protect you."

She leans in, her forehead against mine.

"We have to defeat her," she murmurs. "We have to do this—for us."

For us.

A future.

A world where we are free.

I want to believe it.

I want to hold onto that dream.

But the thought of her in pain—of her suffering?—

It kills me.

She sees it in my face.

She smiles, pressing her lips against mine in a soft, lingering kiss.

And then?—

"Alright, alright," the Ghost interrupts, sounding exasperated. "You two can be disgustingly in love later. We don’t have time."

Anya pulls back.

She turns to him.

Her voice is steady.

"Do it."

The room goes silent.

And I swear?—

The air itself stops breathing.

49

ANYA

The cold stone beneath my back is slick with my own sweat and blood. My fingers curl against the edges of the altar, nails splitting as I brace against the agony ripping me apart from the inside.

The Ghost’s voice rises and falls in a language I do not understand, each syllable vibrating through my bones, twisting, pulling, unraveling. The runes carved into the altar glow a deep, sinister red, pulsating in time with my heartbeat—a heartbeat that feels like it is being torn from my chest.

Pain.

I have known pain before.

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