Page 52 of Crowned In Venom

It is something darker. Heavier. More dangerous.

It is power and surrender, hunger and restraint, the constant pull of war disguised as touch.

And I am not ready to lose it.

Not yet.

So I do what I must.

I step back.

I watch the flicker of disappointment that crosses her face, the way she shields it just as quickly.

She thinks she is in control.

She thinks I am the one resisting her.

But the truth is—I am only waiting.

Because soon, she will come to me.

And when she does, there will be no more pulling away.

No more space between us.

Only ruin.

And I will welcome it.

18

ANYA

The air stinks of sweat, blood, and something deeper. The difference is staggering between my bedroom and this.

His guards almost dragged me from my sleep.

Something rotten, festering.

I have seen many forms of suffering in this world.

But this—this is different.

The underground fight pits are not a stage, not a spectacle of honor or skill.

They are a slaughterhouse.

A place where flesh and bone are currency, where men are unmade for the amusement of others.

And Varkos—he brought me here tonight.

Not as a guest.

Not as a captive.

But as something far more dangerous.

A witness.

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