Page 45 of Craving His Venom

She spreads her hands, mocking innocence. “You see how neatly it can be resolved? Ensure I gain the seat of power I seek in the High Nest, and I’ll keep your little secret.”

I weigh my options in a frantic swirl. If I yield, I become her puppet, endorsing a vile figure who tried to kill me once. If I refuse, she has the means to ruin me and endanger Mira’s life. My tail thrashes in frustration, mind spinning. Velna’s smirk reveals how she basks in my turmoil.

A memory surfaces of the time I found Mira shaking after a nightmare, the raw trust in her eyes when she turned to me for comfort. The power of that moment intensifies my resolve. I will not let Velna’s blackmail tear me from what I cherish now. Perhaps I can stall or outmaneuver her.

I take a slow breath, forcing my voice to remain level. “I need time to consider your demand. The nest faction dispute is complicated. My endorsement carries weight, but I won’t offer it blindly.”

Velna narrows her eyes. “Don’t imagine you can stall indefinitely. I expect your decision soon.”

I step closer, allowing my height and coiled tail to overshadow her. “Do not forget, Velna, that you walk on dangerous ground. You might be the council’s darling, but you’re in my estate now. If you overstep, you won’t leave unscathed.”

She lifts her chin, unbowed. “Threaten me all you like. I know you can’t risk killing me, or the scandal would be even greater.”

A muscle in my jaw twitches. “Then stay out of my path while I deliberate. Betray me once more, and I’ll make certain you regret it.”

She tilts her head, an exaggerated show of compliance. “I’m so glad we can chat without shedding blood this time.” With a final pointed glance, she sweeps from the reception chamber, her robes swishing across the floor. I watch her go, every fiber of me coiled with fury. She played her hand, and for now, she holds the advantage.

Tension thrums in my veins, each breath sharp. A swirl of old resentments mixes with the fresh panic that she could destroy everything I’ve built. My domain stands precariously enough with council scrutiny. Adding Velna’s blackmail could tip the scales beyond my control. And Mira—fear stabs my chest. If Velna reveals our bond, the council might seize her as evidence of my heresy. That possibility sets my teeth on edge.

I stand in the empty chamber for an interminable stretch, trying to quell my shaking. Then I storm out, tail slapping the floor, and head for my private wing. My mind churns, searching for a plan. If I succumb to Velna’s demands, I become her puppet. If I resist, I risk losing everything. Is there a middle path? Perhaps I can glean leverage or orchestrate her downfall.

Eventually, I find myself in the corridor near Mira’s quarters, the weighty quiet of the manor pressing in. An urge compels me to see her, to anchor myself in her presence. An urge compels me to see her, to anchor myself in her presence. We’ve tried to keep a distance, but right now, distance won’t quell the roiling storm inside me.

I knock softly on her door. A few heartbeats pass. Then it opens, revealing her small form wrapped in a simple robe, dark hair pinned with that jade comb. Concern flashes in her eyes at the sight of my tense shoulders and clenched jaw.

“Vahziryn?” she says, voice hushed. “Is something wrong?”

I grit my teeth, stepping inside before I can talk myself out of it. Her room is modest: a narrow bed, a single dresser, a faint lamp lighting the space. The air carries her subtle scent—lavender and soap. My tail flicks behind me, betraying agitation I can’t hide.

She closes the door, face lined with worry. “Tell me.”

Exhaling unsteadily, I lock eyes with her. “Velna arrived,” I say, keeping my voice low. “My ex-betrothed. She’s blackmailing me, threatening to inform the council about us if I don’t endorse her political ambitions.”

Shock ripples across her features. “She’s the one who tried to kill you in the past?” Her hand clenches at her robe’s edge. “Why would she come now?”

“Because she smells weakness,” I murmur, tail curling in frustration. “The council’s scrutiny, the rumors about you and me—she believes she can exploit them.”

Mira’s cheeks pale. “And if you refuse her?”

I swallow the knot in my throat. “She’ll tell the council everything. We risk losing the estate, your freedom—everything.” My voice shakes with suppressed rage. “I refuse to let her manipulate me, but we stand on dangerous ground.”

A hush settles, thick with dread. Then Mira steps closer, placing a hand on my scaled forearm. Her touch sends a surge of heat and longing coursing through me. “We’ll find a way,” she murmurs, gaze steady. “You’re not alone.”

My chest tightens with gratitude, overshadowed by a gnawing hunger for her reassurance. She stands so near, the lamplight casting warm highlights across her cheeks. The swirl of old fury at Velna and fresh desire for Mira tangles in my gut, fueling an almost desperate need to cling to something real, something ours.

“Mira,” I whisper, voice breaking. “I can’t stand her presence in these walls, threatening our bond. I?—”

She hushes me gently, hand sliding to my chest. “Don’t let her poison you with fear.” Her eyes flick to the door, verifying it’s closed, then back to me. “You are stronger than her lies, stronger than the council’s threats.”

A raw, desperate feeling surges in me. I dip my head, resting my forehead against hers. “I want to believe that,” I murmur. “But the weight of it...”

She rises on her toes, lips brushing mine in a feather-light caress. The contact sends a lightning bolt of need through my body. A trembling exhale escapes me, tail automatically coiling around her waist, drawing her close. My anger over Velna’s intrusion blends with a hungry desire to reaffirm what’s truly mine.

She kisses me again, more firmly. I respond with a low growl, tangling my hand in her hair. The comb clatters to the floor, a small casualty of our urgency. Our mouths meet with a fervor that devours caution. Her robe slips, revealing her smooth shoulders. The flicker of lamplight on her bare skin ignites every protective, possessive instinct in me.

“Mira,” I breathe, voice thick with longing. My tail loops around her thighs, lifting her so our faces align. Her arms wind around my neck, eyes shining with trust and raw want.

We come together in a rush of kisses that scour away my anger at Velna, at the council, at everything that threatens to tear us apart. Her mouth moves over mine with a desperation mirroring my own. My scales rasp softly against the cloth of her robe as I pull her flush to my chest. She gasps, arching against me, and the sweet sound fuels my desire.

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