Page 22 of Crowned In Venom

Too calm. Too confident.

I lean forward, slow and deliberate, until the space between us is razor-thin, a thread of tension stretched too tight.

"Are you testing me?" I murmur.

She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move away. Instead, she tilts her chin up, just slightly—an offering or a provocation.

"Are you testing me?" she echoes.

A slow, wicked grin curves my lips.

Oh, I could ruin her.

I could press against her mask until it cracks, unravel her careful control until she trembles, make her beg for mercy that I would never give.

But I do not.

Not yet.

Instead, I lift a single finger and trail it along her jaw, the touch featherlight.

A test.

A threat.

A promise.

She does not move away.

But she does not lean into it, either.

She bends—never breaks.

"Who are you, truly?" I murmur.

She exhales softly, her breath warm against my skin. "Would you like the lie or the truth?"

I chuckle, low and dark. "I will take whichever one is more interesting."

She lifts a delicate brow. "Then you want the lie."

Clever.

Too clever.

I pull back, watching her as I take another sip of my wine. "Your deception is impressive, little fox. But you forget one thing."

She tilts her head. "And what is that?"

I set the goblet down and lean closer, my voice a whisper against her skin.

"Every liar eventually slips."

Her breath hitches.

Barely.

But I feel it.

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