Page 77 of Crowned In Venom

I sip my wine. "Should I not be?"

A slow smirk curves his lips, but it does not reach his eyes.

"I wonder," he murmurs.

The air between us thickens.

He does not look away.

Neither do I.

Every word, every glance is measured.

This is the dance we do.

Push. Pull. Test. Retreat.

But tonight, there is no retreat.

"You’ve been careful," Varkos muses, tilting his goblet in his hand. "Very careful. But no one is perfect."

The words scrape against my ribs.

I do not let it show.

"Perfect?" I echo, setting my glass down with deliberate slowness. "That would be a high expectation, even for you."

He hums, leaning forward just slightly.

"Even for me," he repeats, amusement curling at the edges of his voice. "And yet, here you are, always so… precise. So obedient. So clever."

He says the word like an accusation.

I hold my ground, my lips curving just slightly.

"Would you prefer stupidity?"

He chuckles.

Low. Dark.

"No," he murmurs. "I prefer honesty."

Something in my pulse skips.

Dangerous ground.

He shifts, rising slowly from his seat.

Each movement deliberate, measured.

My body tenses, though I force myself to remain still.

He takes his time crossing the space between us.

Until he stands over me, looking down, his presence curling around me like smoke and shadow.

My breath is steady.

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