Page 38 of Craving His Venom

I realize I’m half-dressed—just a simple robe across my chest, scaled arms exposed, the potent lines of my shoulders taut. She sees me near the window, tail coiled in agitation. Her gaze flicks to the small table bearing scattered scrolls and the faint shimmer of a half-empty vial.

She breathes quietly. “I wanted to see if you were... if you needed anything.”

A bitter chuckle threatens, but I keep it in. “I need many things,” I say, voice rough. “But none that you can fix.”

Her throat works, swallowing. “I’m not here to fix you,” she murmurs, stepping closer. “I just... I can’t bear leaving things unsaid.”

My chest constricts. “What is there to say?”

She halts a pace away, the tension between us palpable. “You keep talking about punishing yourself or sending me away to save me from the council. But no matter what you do, you’re tormented.” Her eyes search mine. “Have you considered that maybe you don’t have to face this alone?”

A strange ache clutches my heart, fighting the residue of the suppressor. “If I let you stand by me, the consequences?—”

“—might still be less destructive than what you’re doing to yourself,” she finishes gently. Her gaze drifts to the half-emptyvial near the desk. “You’re taking potions to numb your feelings. That doesn’t look like safety to me.”

I can’t speak for a moment. My tail trembles, betraying the surge of emotion welling behind my carefully erected walls. She senses my hesitation and lifts her hand, hesitating before placing it on my forearm. The contact sends a jolt through me—her warmth colliding with the residual numbness.

“Mira,” I whisper, voice ragged. “You don’t understand the depth of naga law. I’ve spat on everything they hold sacred by taking you without ritual.”

She exhales slowly. “I can’t claim I understand all their rules. But I know what I feel when I’m with you. If it’s worth the risk for me—shouldn’t that matter?”

My breath shudders, the last of the suppressant’s haze peeling back to reveal the raw longing I tried to bury. Her palm on my scales is both comforting and agonizing. “I can’t guarantee your safety, or that of my domain, if the council decides to act.”

She steps closer, until I catch the faint scent of soap lingering on her skin. “Let me help you fight,” she says, voice trembling with resolve. “Or let me stand at your side, at least.”

A swirl of conflicting emotions churns: fear, hope, desire, and an undercurrent of shame that I’m letting her shoulder my burdens. I recall Sahrine’s words—that sending Mira away or drugging myself might be worse than facing the council’s wrath with honesty.

In a moment of desperate vulnerability, I raise my hand and brush my knuckles over her cheek. She leans into the contact, eyes fluttering shut. My tail, uncoiling from tension, circles gently around her waist, not caging but holding her near. She breathes a quiet sigh.

Her presence soothes the gnawing panic, if only for an instant. I see in her eyes that she’s willing to stand with me,even though fear lurks behind her resolve. Something inside me cracks, releasing a surge of affection laced with protectiveness. For the first time in years, I let the stirring warmth in my chest override the coil of caution.

I lower my forehead to hers, our breaths mingling. “I am afraid,” I confess, voice barely above a whisper. “Not just of the council, but of losing you. And losing myself again.”

She slides her arms around my waist, pressing close. “We’ll find a way,” she whispers. “Together.”

For a moment, I just hold her, letting the hush cradle us. The temptation to sweep her back into my bed flares, but I resist, mindful of the chaos swirling in my mind. We’ve already crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed. But perhaps acknowledging this bond openly, rather than hiding it in potions and denials, is the first step to surviving the storm.

I exhale slowly, releasing some of the tension. “No more secrets,” I murmur. “If we face the council’s wrath, we do so knowing what we risk.”

She nods, tears glistening, though she blinks them away. “Thank you,” she breathes, as if the words come from the depths of her soul.

I ease my tail away, letting her take a half step back. My eyes drift to the half-empty vial on the desk, and a wave of distaste surges in my gut. The solution I craved now feels like a poison that robs me of the very real emotions I can’t pretend to despise any longer.

“Go,” I say gently to Mira, guiding her toward the door. “Rest. We’ll speak more in the morning, figure out our approach.”

She hesitates, then nods. “I’ll wait for you.” With a last, searching glance, she steps out into the corridor and disappears into the gloom.

Alone once more, I pivot toward the desk, tail flicking in a decisive arc. With one sweep of my arm, I knock the leftoverpotion to the floor, shattering the glass. Liquid seeps across the stone, giving off that pungent smell. A sense of finality settles over me. I won’t rely on such crutches again, no matter how terrified I am of the path ahead.

My chest rises with a slow breath. Consequences still loom, but I won’t face them by numbing myself or banishing her. If a confrontation is inevitable, so be it. At least I’ll fight with a clear mind, fueled by something stronger than fear. The hush of the chamber no longer feels like a prison; it’s simply the quiet before the struggle that will define us.

I stride to the window, inhaling the night air. The distant jungle calls, whispering of ancient laws and savage hearts. The moon hangs low, casting silver over the courtyard. My tail sways, no longer locked by tension. I can almost feel the steady drum of possibility, the pulse of a future I never imagined sharing with a human.

One step at a time, I remind myself. Tomorrow, I’ll face the estate, the staff, and the looming specter of the council with open eyes. No potions, no more denials. If I must guard Mira from the entire naga world, I’ll find a way. Her safety and the strange bond that’s grown between us matter more than playing by rules designed to keep hearts frozen.

I rest my hand against the cool window frame, letting the final vestiges of the suppressor’s numbness fade. A swirl of desire, protectiveness, and apprehension settles in my blood, vibrant and real. This might well break me or lead me to a new future beyond the confines of exile. But for now, I’ll chase that new dawn with every coil of strength I possess.

I close my eyes, breathing in the moment. Yes, consequences wait for me. But so does the memory of her gentle voice, her unwavering presence in my arms. The cost may be high, yet a quiet determination steels my spine. I will face what comes, and I will not let her stand alone.

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