Page 78 of Sweet Venom

Blackthorn Manor.

The name carved across an old iron sign above the towering wooden doors. The letters were delicate and elegant—but something in their shape hinted at cruel thorns beneath the timeless beauty.

I sat there for a heartbeat, trying to absorb it all. This place looks just like something out of my dreams. I can’t help but blink repeatedly to see if I’m dreaming it all but I’m not.

The flickering warm lights in the high trees. The peaceful silence. The way the wind seemed to hum through the branches. It was magic—but not the kind of magic most people hope for. It wasn’t bright and soft. No. It was dark magic.

Quiet. Lingering. Beautiful in a way that made you feel both found and lost.

I wasn’t sure where Azariel would take me next but I’m certain I wasn’t expecting this.

He said he was taking me somewhere fitting for the story he wanted me to write and know I think why it was so fitting for him. This felt like the place where epic love stories begin. The dangerous kind. The unforgettable kind.

The car rolled to a final stop on the circular stone driveway, where a beautiful gothic water fountain sat, just beneath the looming shadow of the manor.

Azariel shifted in his seat and moved to open his door—then paused, glancing toward mine. I could see it out of the corner of my eye—he was about to walk around and open it for me. But I was already pushing it open, too eager to wait for him. I had to see more. Feel more.

The cool winter air swept in as I stepped out, my heels crunching softly on the gravel. For a second, our eyes met acrossthe roof of the car, something like amusement flickering in his. But it was gone before I could catch it.

I didn’t say anything. Neither did he.

We just stood there, side by side, facing the manor.

His home.

Blackthorn Manor.

Up close, it was even more stunning—like something pulled from a wild dream dipped in velvet and shadows. The towering black wooden doors were carved with twisting vines. Above them, a wrought-iron sign creaked in the breeze, whispering something I couldn’t quite hear. Something old. Something sweet.

Azariel moved a step ahead of me, tall and sharp in the dark, commanding the shadows. The black clothes, the tattoos climbing up his neck and crawling down his arms, the way he held still like a Greek statue—all of it made sense here. He looked like part of the manor itself. Like he’d been carved from the same silence and dark beauty.

My heart was beating up a storm as I looked at him, quietly observing the beauty in front of us.

I moved closer, the scent of roses brushing against my skin. Something about it felt like a memory from our past. We’ve been here before. Two quiet souls surrounded by the cold night and the scent of roses.

“This feels…” I whispered, breath fogging in the cool night air. “It feels like you. Like your family.”

It did. It’s almost sweet that even now that he’s a grown man he still gravitated to this kind of beauty. The same beauty that raced him. His family.

Azariel grunted. No words, just that low sound in his throat that always said everything and nothing at the same time.

The silence stretched, wrapped in the rustle of trees and the soft flicker of lights above. When impatience got the best of me, I broke the silence.

“Are you going to show me around,” I asked softly, “or just stand there looking all dark and broody? Not gonna lie, you’re kind of giving Bram Stoker’s Dracula vibe.”

My favorite blood sucking prince.

His amused eyes flicked to mine. “Stay close.”

Huh. Well, I’ll be damned. He didn’t hide the emotion. I got to see it. My heart raced even more at that.

I saluted him like a soldier.

I swear his eyes soften but maybe I’m hallucinating it all. It has been a long day after all.

Gravel crunched softly beneath my shoes as I stood before the towering front doors of the manor. I followed Azariel up the steps, my heart fluttering with something between nerves and wonder. With every step, it felt like the air thickened and charged with something unseen.

The manor loomed above us. Its windows glowed faintly with golden light. More vines curled along the stone like enchanted veins, and even more soft lights blinked in the high trees.

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