Page 36 of Crowned In Venom

With calculation.

She is learning me.

Studying my weaknesses, my tells, my flaws.

I should put a stop to it. Should remind her who is in control.

Instead, I lean in, just slightly.

A breath of space between us.

"You think you understand me, little fox?" I murmur.

She does not pull away.

"I think I am beginning to," she says, her voice a whisper against my skin.

And that is dangerous.

I move quickly.

One second, she stands near the railing. The next, her back is against it, my hands braced on either side of her, caging her in.

She does not startle.

She expects it.

Anticipates it.

And that makes me smile.

"You enjoy testing me," I murmur.

She exhales, slow and measured. "And you enjoy being tested."

My fingers curl around the railing beside her, my knuckles grazing the silk of her sleeve.

"And if I decide I am done playing?" I ask.

She lifts a brow. "Then you’re lying."

Gods, she is fearless.

Or reckless.

Or both.

I shift closer, my voice dropping to something lower, something meant only for her. "Tell me, Anya. What is it you want?"

She looks up at me, and for the first time, she does not answer immediately.

The flicker of hesitation is brief, a crack in her perfect mask.

And I know.

She does not know what she wants.

Or rather—she does, and she knows she should not.

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