Page 27 of Craving His Venom

8

VAHZIRYN

Another humid dawn settles over my estate, painting the jungled horizon in oranges and deep greens. I stand alone in my private study, door closed against the murmurs of the household. Weeks have passed since I first extended new freedoms to Mira, since I handed her that jade-and-gold comb and told her it carried no hidden cost. Although I tried to maintain distance, each day has brought us into more frequent encounters—brief conversations in corridors, the occasional exchange of glances when she tends the gardens or helps with the household chores.

I tell myself it’s simple curiosity, yet the truth grows more tangled with every sight of her. Her presence is no longer an unsettling novelty; it’s become a quiet thread woven into my routine. Lately, a strange restlessness circles my thoughts whenever she drifts too far from my awareness.

A rap against the door cuts through my thoughts. “Come,” I say.

Sahrine steps inside, cane tapping the polished floor. Her blind eyes turn in my direction with uncanny accuracy. “My lord,” she says, voice low. “The staff have finished preparing theeastern walkway, as you requested. You mentioned wanting to see it, perhaps take a walk.”

I recall the plan I made the previous night—an impulse to show Mira a certain secluded spot in the far corner of the estate. A hidden garden I rarely share, nestled behind dense foliage. I’m not fully sure why I decided on this. Maybe to break the hush that has settled around us, or to show her the manor holds more than strict routines.

Without acknowledging the personal motive, I nod. “Good. That will do.”

Sahrine shifts her weight slightly, as though hesitant. “Shall I inform Mira she’s to accompany you, or do you prefer I select someone else for the task?”

Her question stirs a subtle tension in my chest. I have not openly announced that I wish to spend time with Mira, especially not in a private corner of the grounds. But a half-measure no longer satisfies me—I want to see her reaction to the hidden garden, to hear her laugh or question me. Something about that desire vexes me, yet I can’t deny it.

“Send her,” I reply, keeping my tone neutral. “We’ll leave soon.”

Sahrine inclines her head. “As you wish.”

She leaves, shutting the door softly behind her. I inhale, steadying myself. Let them speculate about my intentions. I will not give them more reason for gossip. If Mira asks, I’ll present this outing as a routine inspection—though my motives stretch beyond that.

I gather a few parchments, tucking them into a leather satchel, feigning that I have documentation about the estate’s flora to review. If anyone questions me, I’ll say it’s part of ensuring the grounds are well-maintained. My tail coils around the leg of the desk in a restless gesture, then I exhale and force it to release.

Moments later, I exit into the corridor. Mira waits near the arched window at the end, her posture delicate and still. She wears a simple tunic of dusty green, belted at the waist, and her dark hair is pinned with that comb, the gold filigree catching faint light. Whenever I see that little sparkle, it sparks a satisfaction I can’t fully explain.

She dips her head in respect. “My lord. Sahrine said you needed me.”

I nod, gesturing for her to walk beside me. “I want to examine a part of the estate’s grounds. You’ll assist. It may take a few hours.”

Her eyes flicker with curiosity, tempered by caution. “Of course.”

We move through the main hall together, passing servants who lower their gazes. My tail brushes the floor in a measured sweep, and I sense Mira’s awareness of it. She keeps a respectful distance, though I notice how her steps align with mine in a careful dance of proximity. The estate’s quiet shadows follow us as we slip through a side doorway into the warm jungle air.

Outside, the sun hangs high, illuminating the thick canopy that looms beyond the manor walls. We cross a short stone bridge over a narrow stream, water shimmering below us. The overgrown walkway leads away from the more manicured gardens into a zone rarely visited by the staff. Here, leaves droop in broad, waxy arcs, and vines twist around wooden trellises. The air teems with buzzing wings and the eerie cries of unseen jungle creatures.

Mira glances around, her breathing quickening with each step. “I never realized the estate extended this far,” she says softly. “It’s... vast.”

“Few do,” I answer, leading her down a winding path sheltered by high walls draped in moss. A sense of seclusion envelops us, the bustle of the household left behind.

The path opens at last to a hidden courtyard, smaller than the grand ones near the main wing. Here, the stone floor has cracked in places, allowing vibrant plants to sprout. A central pond glistens with water so clear that the red pebbles beneath shimmer like gems. Around the pond, blossoms in exotic shades of violet and crimson bloom, filling the air with a sweet, heady scent. The hush is broken by the soft trickle of water from a carved serpent fountain standing at the pond’s edge.

Mira inhales sharply. “I never knew this existed.”

Pleased by her wonder, I set my satchel aside on a low stone bench. “I’ve kept it private. Even the staff rarely come here.” For reasons I barely understand, I add, “You may look around. If you wish.”

She takes a tentative step forward, gazing at the blossoms and the pond as though she’s stepped into another world. Sunlight pierces the canopy, creating shifting patterns on the stone and water. A gentle breeze stirs the leaves, and in that moment, the entire space feels alive.

She moves closer to a cluster of purple flowers, brushing a hand over their velvety petals. “They’re beautiful.” A soft laugh escapes her, as though the pleasure of seeing such vibrant life can’t be contained. That simple sound shifts something in my chest, loosening an invisible knot of tension.

Weeks have passed since I first saw her in the auction house, silent and wary. Her laugh now is a testament to the changes wrought in that time, to the slow unraveling of her fear. I find myself enthralled by that quiet transformation, though a part of me warns not to show my fascination.

“I rarely linger here,” I say, tone carefully casual. “But I wanted to check on these plants. I keep them for their unique properties—some medicinal, others purely ornamental.”

She turns her head, eyes shining with a mixture of curiosity and delight. “You keep them, but never enjoy them?”

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