Page 112 of Crowned In Venom

They swing open.

I am shoved inside.

And the first thing I see?—

Varkos.

His wide, startled gaze meets mine.

He sits at an opulent dining table, a glass of dark wine in one hand, a silver knife in the other. A half-eaten meal before him.

And across from him?—

The Matriarch.

She dabs at her lips with a silk napkin, her expression calm. Almost amused.

My heart slams against my ribs.

Varkos rises from his seat. His face is carefully unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes burn.

He was not expecting this.

Neither was I.

The Matriarch sets down her goblet, exhaling in a slow, deliberate sigh.

"Well," she murmurs, silver eyes gleaming.

"It seems we have found the one who set the prisoners free."

The room tilts.

My breath catches.

Varkos goes still.

And I know—this is the moment everything unravels.

35

VARKOS

The silver knife gleams in my mother’s hand, reflecting the dim torchlight of the chamber. A beautiful weapon—delicate, intricate, deadly.

Just like her.

Just like this moment.

The suffocatng stench of blood is already in the air, thick and metallic, coiling around my ribs like a vice. The heavy iron chains rattle as Anya is forced to her knees, her wrists bound behind her back. She does not beg.

Of course, she doesn’t.

Even now, with her body bruised from the guards dragging her here, with the Matriarch standing over her like a god preparing to pass judgment, she refuses to bow.

And I do not know whether I want to break her myself or tear this entire room apart to save her.

"You’ve been a very foolish girl."

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