Page 126 of Craving Venom

“What do you want from me? I don’t even like you.”

His eyes darken, and a slow, terrifying smile curves his lips. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, just leans in until I can feel the weight of his breath against my cheek.

“I don’t want you to like me.” His fingers curl beneath my chin, tilting my face up to meet his. “I want you to worship me.”

The audacity of it makes my blood boil. Worship him? He’s delusional. Arrogant. And yet, somewhere deep inside, the idea doesn’t disgust me as much as it should.

“You know what? Stay the fuck away from me. If I see you anywhere near me, I won’t hesitate to report that you’re roaming freely.”

Zane doesn’t get mad like normal people. He doesn’t yell, doesn’t throw punches unless it serves a purpose. No, he gets dangerous in that creepy way that makes you realize too late that you’ve already stepped into the trap.

“You think a cell is enough to keep me away? Every step you take, every breath you breathe, I’ll be watching.”

I slap his hand away, but he keeps stepping closer, reminding me of what he’s capable of searing through my bones.

“So go ahead,” he continues flicking his tongue against my earlobe. “Enjoy your temporary taste of freedom. Just remember, in the end, it’s not about where I am—it’s about where your mind will find itself, trapped in chains of my own making.”

His eyes drag over me, before he finally turns, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking away. I turn and walk back to the stands, forcing my steps to be normal, even though nothing about me feels normal right now.

When I slide into my seat, Tria immediately turns to me.

“Where the hell were you?”

I force a tight smile, brushing my hair back in place to hide the bite mark. “Just needed air.”

“Do you want to head back?” she offers, and for a split second, I want to say yes. I want to crawl into bed and pretend I don’t feel like I’ve just been skinned alive with nothing but words. But I know how much she wanted to be here.

So instead, I shake my head, plastering on a small smirk. “Nah. Let’s watch the game.”

“That’s my girl,” she grins.

We watch, or at least, she does. I sit there, pretending to be invested. Halfway through, Tria’s head whips toward me.

“Wait. Where’s your jersey?”

“I—” I scramble for an excuse, shaking my head. “I spilled Coke on it.”

Tria levels her glare, but before she can push, I add quickly, “I’ll apologize to Trevor later.”

That seems to satisfy her, and she shrugs, turning back to the game. I don’t register a single second of the game.

By the time the final whistle blows and the stadium erupts in cheers, Tria is on her feet, yelling, while I sit perfectly still, feeling the tension coil tighter and tighter inside me.

We wait by the lockers, Tria’s practically bouncing as she talks about Xaden’s performance. I barely hear a word.

Trevor steps out first with a grin on his face, his hair damp from a shower and his jersey slung over his shoulder.

I force a smile, stepping forward. “Hey.”

His smile widens. “Hey yourself.”

“Listen, I—about the jersey, I—”

I open my mouth to congratulate him, but my eyes drift over his shoulder and I find Zane standing at a distance, watching me.

I act before I can think.

I grab Trevor by the back of his neck and kiss him. He stiffens for half a second before he kisses me back, his hands landing on my waist. But even as I try to focus on the feel of his lips, the warmth of his body, it all feels… wrong.

---