Page 176 of Crowned In Venom

I don’t wait.

I don’t think.

I just run.

53

ANYA

The first thing I feel is pain.

Not sharp, not overwhelming—just a dull, aching weight pressing over my entire body, like I’ve been crushed under stone and left there to wither.

My limbs feel heavy, my skin too tight, my breath ragged as I drag myself out of the darkness that has held me captive.

I don’t know how long it has been.

It feels like forever.

And yet, somehow, I’m here. Alive.

I inhale sharply, my throat burning as my lungs fill with air, the simple act of breathing foreign, like I’ve forgotten how.

The ceiling above me is unfamiliar—dark wood and flickering candlelight.

Where am I?

Panic coils, sharp and immediate.

"Varkos."

His name is a whisper, torn from my lips before I can stop it.

I try to move, but my body protests, a deep, bone-deep exhaustion settling in.

Then— the door slams open.

He is there.

Varkos.

Disheveled, exhausted— but his eyes burn as they lock onto me.

"Anya."

I barely have time to breathe before he crosses the room in three steps, falling to his knees at my bedside.

His hands find my face, my shoulders, grasping me like I might vanish.

"You’re awake." His voice is rough, raw. "I?—"

His words cut off, his throat working as if he can’t force them out.

I touch his face, fingers grazing the sharp edge of his jaw, the hollow of his cheek. He’s lost weight. He hasn’t slept.

"You look terrible," I rasp.

A breath of laughter leaves him, hollow and weak, but his hands tighten their grip.

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