Page 132 of Sweet Venom

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

My chest ached like her sweet vow had reached into me and rewired the beast in me and made it her bitch as well.

For a moment, the world outside this room disappeared. There was nothing but the two of us, nothing but everything we shared.

“Come on,” I said, breaking the silence as I gently tugged her toward the bathroom. “Let’s go get this washed out.”

She gave a small nod and followed quietly. When we reached the bathroom, I turned on the sink, the sound of water rushing filling the space between us. Poe stood by the sink, her eyes meeting mine. The weariness that was before had slowly disappeared. Now, all I could see was trust. It was the same trustshe had shown me when she was a little girl, before I had hurt her. The one she had shown me since we’ve been here at the manor.

The trust I value more than all the power and money in the world.

I moved behind her and carefully guided her to lean over the sink. Gently, I rinsed the dye from her hair, the water running clear as I worked, my hands careful against her wound.

While I worked on removing the dye, she didn’t speak. She just stood there quietly, her body relaxed in a way it hadn’t been in two days. And when the water ran clear, I stood back, my hands still warm from the touch of her hair. She lifted her head, her eyes meeting mine. Fuck, was she gorgeous.

“Better?” I whispered, my voice soft, as if afraid I might spook her and break the tender moment between us.

She nodded, her lips curving up into a wide smile.

“Good.”

“Good,” she repeated.

As she lifted her head from the sink, I caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. I hadn’t noticed it before, not in the rush of everything that had happened. But now, as I looked more closely, I could see the faint bruising around her neck. Those were not my love bites. No. That is discoloration of her skin where the motherfucker’s hands had wrapped too tightly.

As the memory rushed back of her being held down on the ground I felt a surge of anger, cold and primal. I saw red. The thought of someone laying their hands on her, hurting her like that made me want to spill blood and bathe in it. My fingers twitched, my fists curling at my sides, but I buried the rage deep, locking it away in the darkest part of me until later.

The bitch who had done this would pay. I’d make sure of that. But not now. She came first.

Always.

I took a deep breath, pushing aside the anger for now, focusing on what mattered.

Poe turned to face me, her trusting eyes meeting mine.

I took a slow step forward, my hand reaching out to gently cup her face. She didn’t flinch. She softened into it, leaning into the comfort I was offering.

“Let me…make it better,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

She blinked at me, her expression soft, questioning, but she didn’t pull away. I took it as permission.

Without another word, I dropped my gaze to the first mark on her neck. My lips brushed over it, soft and lingering, as if I could kiss away the pain the fucker caused.

She stiffened for a moment, but I didn’t stop. Instead, I pressed my lips to the next mark on her shoulder, and then another, moving slowly, gently, as though each kiss would ease the hurt she had carried with her ever since that day.

“Azariel…” she whispered breathlessly.

I kissed her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, each kiss a dark promise, a silent vow to always make her feel safe.

Then, I moved to her forehead and removed the gauze. My gaze hardened as I looked at the butterfly stitches. The sign of a wound that should’ve never been inflicted on her. I brushed my fingers over them first, before gently pressing my lips to the wound, soft and slow, as if my kiss could somehow erase the fear she endured that day.

Poe grew up with a father who was Detroit’s cleaner and an uncle who ran the whole damn city— but they kept her shielded from all of it. Unlike the rest of us, she’s not used to that kind of violence.

I kissed her chest and she shuddered slightly, her breath catching in her throat, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she stood frozen, letting me take the pain away. I could feel her heartbeating against her chest and her pulse quickening beneath my lips. I moved up, closer to her face, until I was inches away. She was looking at me now, her eyes wide, lips parted slightly, as if she were waiting for something.

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