Page 100 of Sweet Venom

And now? Now the love I’ve caged for so long has finally broken free. I wonder what my cousins would say if they knew. Actually, I do. The three piranhas would probably roast me for “losing all my bad bitch points.” Honestly? Worth it.

Oh, well. I’m not exactly proud of how deep I’ve sunk into this pit of love, but I sure as hell don’t regret it. The two baddestwomen I know love their men with everything they’ve got—and honestly, that just makes them even more badass in my eyes.

Even my writing has changed. I’ve cranked out more romantic scenes between my main characters in the last few days than I have all year. Romance scenes that would’ve made me gag a few weeks ago now have me blushing like a full-time lover girl. And weirdly? That fills my heart with joy.

I feel like me again. Like the little girl who wore heart-shaped headbands for Valentine’s Day and dreamed about a dark-haired boy with stormy eyes and the personality of a morally gray romance book villain.

That Poe is writing this book. And that Poe is finally in control of her heart.

Yeah, there was no way of stopping what Azariel stirred in me with his silent support of my dreams, or the way he pushed me to be a better writer, or how he gently nudged me out of my shell to overcome my social anxiety like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

And then... the letters.

Thousands of them. Hidden in my books, scattered across the manor’s library like he was leaving breadcrumbs straight to his heart. Every single love confession chipped away at me. Vulnerable, honest, beautifully painful and so damn sweet. Like he was handing me tiny pieces of his soul and trusting me not to break them.

And the statues.God, the statues in his hauntingly beautiful garden with roses the same shade as my hair.

I can’t stop thinking about them. The way he carved my memory into marble like he was afraid I’d disappear if he didn’t. Like he wanted to freeze me in time just to prove I mattered. Just to prove that I was in his life in some shape or form. No one will ever top that gesture of love.

Impossible. Besides, I don’t want anyone else. Anything else. I want him. Good, bad, beautiful and ugly. Perfectly-imperfect him.

My heart felt like it was going to combust. It pounded against my chest, the beat erratic and fierce. I pressed my hand to my chest, as if that could calm my heart. It didn’t. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting this feeling take over me.

What I was feeling for him was the strangest, most terrifying thing. But it was beautiful, too. The way he had opened up to me had cracked open something in me that I didn’t even know was there. A part of me I’d never met before had come alive because of him. And now... I didn’t know how to quiet it. I didn’t want to. I wanted that part to rise, to soar, to take over every piece of me and fill it with everything that Azariel is.

The thought of seeing him again after last night lit a fire in my chest. I swung my legs off the bed, hair a wild mess around my head, and caught my reflection in the mirror with a wince. “Okay, forest witch,” I muttered to myself, trying not to laugh, “we need to tame that hair.”

Azariel was somewhere in this manor and I had to find him. I… needed to find him.

I practically floated to the bathroom, anticipation fizzing beneath my skin. After a quick shower, I patted my face dry and went through my skincare routine like it was a special occasion. It was.

Wrapped in a towel, I stepped into the massive walk-in closet and paused, just like I always did since I arrived here. I hadn’t brought much on this trip—just my laptop, my cat, and the usual emotional baggage. But he had thought of everything else. My favorite colors. My go-to fabrics.

He did that for me.

I’d been so caught up in everything that he has done for me that I’d missed how carefully he planned everything. Thoughtfully. Sweetly. Meticulously.

God, no wonder my heart felt like it was doing cartwheels inside my chest.

I reached for a soft beige skirt that hugged my ass in all the right ways. I slid into the skirt and tugged the shirt over my head. It was plain, nothing fancy, but I knotted the front to add a bit of flair. Then, I brushed my hair back into a sleek ponytail that reached my lower back. I chose to not wear makeup today. For once, I felt like I didn’t need to hide behind any mask. I just wanted to be me.

I looked simple yet chic.

But of course, nothing was simple when you had a cat who had a snobbier attitude than an entire room filled with royals.

“Demon,” I called, narrowing my eyes at the familiar sound of movement from the dresser. Sure enough, there he was, perched smugly at the top, his fluffy tail swishing back and forth like a little pompous asshole king. “Don’t even think about souring my day with your negativity,” I warned, my voice stern, but I knew he didn’t care. He never did.

Not today, you hellhound. Just… be decent for a day. Dammit.

Prince looked down at me, blinked lazily, and then, just as if he had decided he’d had enough of listening to me for one morning, he hopped down onto the floor with that slow, deliberate grace that irritated me to no end.

He let out a soft, almost mockingmew, as if he were replying, “And what exactly are you going to do about it?”

I shook my head, trying not to smile. “Don’t give me that attitude. I already apologized for forgetting your dinner last night.”

Prince’s almost white eyes locked onto mine, and I swear, if he could roll his eyes, he would’ve. Instead, he gave me another haughtymew, as if he were saying,you should get your shit together.

I was an hour late. It’s not like he was starving. The cat’s fat. He could live off reserves for a week.

---