Page 58 of Crowned In Venom

She does not lower her gaze.

"I am not your torturer," she says softly.

But there is something else in her voice.

Something that is not resistance.

Not defiance.

Hesitation.

A battle waging within her.

And I intend to see which part of her wins.

"If you do not, it will be you."

I let the words sink in.

Let them coil around her throat like a chain.

A test.

A truth.

I do not need her to break him.

I need her to break herself.

She moves before she speaks.

Fast. Precise.

The whip cracks through the air, striking flesh with a sharp, biting snap.

The prisoner jerks, a strangled sound tearing from his throat.

Not a scream.

Not yet.

But it will come.

I watch Anya, not him.

The way she stills, the way her breathing tightens just before she looks at me.

Her grip on the whip is too controlled.

She is fighting herself.

I step closer, my voice a whisper at her ear.

"Again."

A pause.

She does not obey immediately.

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