Page 47 of Craving His Venom

13

MIRA

Iwake to a morning drenched in a low-hanging fog, the kind that wraps around every thought and doesn’t let go. My small window admits only gray light, as if the sun itself hesitates to illuminate this day. The estate feels subdued. Even the birds are quieter than usual. I dress mechanically, muscle memory guiding my fingers as I tie my tunic. My head is cluttered with worries: the council, Lady Velna’s arrival, and Vahziryn’s struggle to shield us from threats on all sides.

I can’t help thinking about how determined he seemed the last time we spoke—like he’d tear down centuries of tradition if that was the price of keeping me safe. Yet a persistent dread coils in my chest: powerful forces are circling us. The council remains suspicious, and Velna’s blackmail tightens around us like a noose.

Leaving my quarters, I move through the corridors with a weariness that’s become second nature. Staff members pass in subdued clusters, their voices muted. Since the council scouts departed, tension hums beneath the surface of every interaction. Some of the naga guards glance my way, pity threading theireyes, while humans avert their faces, as if fearing I’m a reminder of what befalls those who draw a warlord’s gaze.

I head to the kitchens, thinking I’ll busy myself with menial tasks. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables might offer an anchor, something to quiet the storm in my thoughts. But before I reach the archway, a familiar voice stops me.

“Mira,” Crick says, emerging from a side corridor. His mismatched scales catch the glow of nearby lamps, and a half-smile tugs at his lips, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “We need to talk.”

My pulse stutters. “What’s happened?”

He leans closer, keeping his voice low. “The warlord has been in conference with Velna again. I overheard snatches of conversation—she’s pressing him for a decision about endorsing her in the nest faction. He’s stalling, but she’s tightening the screws.”

Anxiety prickles my skin. “What can he do?”

Crick’s jaw flexes. “Not much, unless he’s prepared to wage open war with her. She’s holding the council’s favor hostage, threatening to expose your bond.” His gaze flicks over me. “I don’t trust her not to strike soon.”

I swallow, a hollow ache opening in my gut. “Thanks for telling me.”

He nods, voice rough with sympathy. “He’s caught in a web. And so are you.”

With that, he heads off, leaving me more unsettled than before. The idea of Velna wrestling Vahziryn into compliance churns my stomach. Over the last few weeks, I’ve seen the toll of these threats. Despite our attempts at closeness, a tension pulls him in too many directions. I fear something is about to snap.

Trying to steady myself, I enter the kitchens. The cook is fussing over a pot of stew, and a few human servants chop onions at a long table. They cast me cautious glances, but Ifocus on grabbing a knife and sinking it into a squash. Let them whisper if they must. My mind throbs with Crick’s warning anyway.

I chop vegetables in an almost robotic rhythm, ignoring the sting of onion fumes. Yet the sense of impending crisis gnaws at me. Memories of recent nights swirl Vahziryn’s coil around my waist, the quiet vow in his voice that we’d endure no matter what. We’ve fought so hard, but the forces arrayed against us are formidable.

Abruptly, the cook addresses me, voice terse: “Go fetch more carrots from storage.”

I nod, setting aside the knife. My head aches, a dull throb at my temple. Nausea swirls unexpectedly, forcing me to pause. Maybe it’s hunger, or the stress devouring me from inside out. Pushing it down, I carry on.

In the storage room, I gather carrots in a basket, feeling a dizzy wave. The dark space spins for a moment, and I brace myself against a shelf. A cold sweat beads on my brow. I breathe carefully until the dizziness subsides, chalking it up to exhaustion and too many worries.

By midday, I finish my chores and step out into a quiet corridor, thinking I might rest for a minute in the greenhouse. But I freeze at the sight of Vahziryn standing at the far end, tail lowered, arms folded. Tension radiates from him like a palpable heat.

He sees me and inclines his head, gesturing for me to follow. No words. Worry flares. I fall into step behind him, ignoring the prickle of watchful eyes from a pair of naga staff near the entrance. We wind through the estate until we reach a seldom-used courtyard near the southeast corner. It’s an enclosed space, moss creeping along the walls, a single bench overshadowed by a leaning palm tree. Here, no one lingers. He stops, and I sense the charged hush in the air.

I come to a halt, nerves rattling. His face is drawn, cheekbones sharp under the grayish light filtering through the clouds. Black scales line his arms, glinting faintly. He doesn’t speak for several heartbeats, tail curling with restless agitation.

“Velna has given me an ultimatum,” he finally says, voice low and raw. “Support her claim in the nest dispute or she reveals everything to the council—about us.”

A pang stabs my chest. “I suspected as much.” My gaze flickers over his posture, noticing how rigid he stands. “Do you have a plan?”

His eyes flash with suppressed torment. “Plan? I’m torn between refusing and risking war, or yielding and losing my dignity. Neither option spares you if the council decides I’ve broken their sacred laws.” He exhales, anguish twisting his features. “I can’t see a path that ensures you stay unscathed.”

My stomach churns. “You told me we’d face this together.” The words emerge gentler than I intend, an aching reminder of our vow.

His tail lashes once, a sharp movement. “Together,” he echoes bitterly, turning away. “We tried, but they tighten the net. If I remain stubborn, Velna tears our secret open. You get branded as tainted property. The council might drag you off, or punish you in ways I can’t prevent.”

I step closer, pressing a hand to his arm. He flinches, then forces himself to still. “What are you saying?” I whisper, heart pounding.

He pulls away, stepping out of reach, tail coiling around him like a shield. “I... I can’t let that happen. I won’t see you destroyed because you trusted me.” His voice trembles, though his face sets in a cold mask. “So I have to remove you from the equation.”

My throat constricts. “Remove me?”

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