Page 170 of Crowned In Venom

"Then let her," I growl, my voice pure, seething hatred.

"She’ll regret ever touching her."

The Ghost clicks his tongue. "A touching sentiment. But one that will get you both killed."

I don’t move.

I can’t.

I can still feel Anya’s shallow breathing against my chest.

"If you don’t move, she dies anyway."

The words are calm. Cold.

And they cut deeper than any blade.

I clench my jaw. My muscles tremble from exertion, from exhaustion, from grief and rage and fear.

But I force my legs to move.

I lift Anya fully into my arms, cradling her against me.

Her head falls against my shoulder.

Her breath tickles my throat—so faint.

"Fine," I rasp.

The Ghost nods.

"Follow me."

We move through the ruined temple, the ritual chamber fading into the darkness behind us.

The air is thick, charged.

I don’t look back.

I only look at her.

At Anya.

At the woman who gave everything for me.

I will not lose her.

Not to death.

And not to the Matriarch.

Not ever.

I will destroy anyone who tries to take her from me.

Even if it means burning the world to ash.

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