Page 9 of Craving His Venom

She offers a half-smile—more of a quirk at the corner of her mouth than a grin—then glides away with her effortless stride.

Left alone, I linger in the greenhouse a moment longer, marveling at a pair of vines that seem to twitch whenever I breathe too close. The estate holds so many secrets, from these plants to the hush of its master.

I step outside. The stark difference in temperature makes me shiver. The corridor’s cooler air wraps around me. My next destination should be the laundry area, but a distant murmurdrifts my way, drawing my attention. I follow the sound to a half-open door, leading to a small courtyard I haven’t yet explored.

Peering through the gap, I see a private courtyard with a modest fountain at its center. The gurgle of water trickling from a carved serpent’s mouth is mesmerizing. Vahziryn stands near the fountain, his back to me, dressed in a tunic that leaves his scaled arms uncovered. His black hair falls loose, almost brushing his waist. From this angle, I see how the sunlight dances over the shifting green undertones on his scales. The formidable shape of his tail coils behind him, each movement fluid.

He raises a hand to the fountain, letting droplets splash his palm. Tension flickers across the line of his shoulders. Something about it makes my chest tighten, as though I’m witnessing a private moment where his guard slips.

He turns slightly, and my heart jolts. I retreat half a step, not wanting to be caught staring. Yet the hush of the courtyard amplifies everything. He must sense me; the shift of air, the subtle catch in my breath. His head angles, revealing the elegant curve of his jaw and the slitted pupils of his golden eyes. My pulse thunders, and I consider fleeing, but my feet refuse to move.

“Is there something you need?” he asks in a voice as smooth and low as a distant drum.

My cheeks flare with heat. “Apologies, my lord. I didn’t— I was just passing by.”

He regards me, that unwavering gaze capturing my entire focus. The slight tilt of his chin hints at patience worn thin. Yet there’s no immediate anger, only that ever-present quiet. “Come closer,” he says, a command laced with curiosity.

I swallow, stepping into the courtyard. The sunlight feels brighter here, making the mosaic tiles underfoot shimmer. I approach slowly, every sense alive. He turns to face me fully, andI realize all over again how tall he is. My gaze roams the line of his shoulder, the corded muscle of his arms, the faint pattern of black scales that vanish beneath the collar of his tunic.

A glimmer of tension marks his jaw. “Why are you watching me?”

The question pins me. I struggle to form words that won’t offend. “I heard the fountain...and I saw you. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

He studies me for several heartbeats, his expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, he gestures to the fountain’s edge. “If you wish to rest a moment, you may.”

Confusion flutters through me. This is the same warlord rumored to have killed a man with a single strike, yet he’s offering me a moment of peace in his private space. My instincts scream to remain guarded, but the quiet invitation tugs at me. I approach cautiously, setting my hand on the fountain’s worn rim. Cool water laps at the carved serpent effigy.

He shifts closer, and I feel the subtle heat radiating from his body. In daylight, I notice small details: a faint scar running along his ribs, just visible through the gap in his tunic, and the swirling green undertones that accent his ebony scales. His eyes glint with an intensity that sets my nerves on edge and stirs something more profound in my chest.

“You’re new here,” he murmurs. “And yet you move through the estate as though you seek answers.”

A ripple of alarm courses through me. “I don’t mean to pry, my lord.”

His lips thin. “Humans often have to pry, or they remain ignorant of naga ways. But ignorance can be fatal.”

My heart thuds. “I only want to stay out of trouble.”

His eyes lift to my face, lingering on mine. “You appear more observant than you let on. I see it in how you hold yourself—like you’re ready to flee or fight.”

I can barely breathe under that scrutiny. Somehow, I muster a response. “That’s how I survived up until now.”

The faintest quirk shapes his mouth, almost a ghost of a smile, but it holds no amusement. “Wise.” He inhales a slow breath. “This is my domain, but it’s not a prison, so long as you respect the rules. Should you have questions, be direct. I prefer that to skulking in corners.”

I bristle a little, remembering the rumors I overheard about him. Still, I measure my words. “Then...I’ve heard there are reasons you live so far from the capital. I won’t ask why, but I?—”

He steps closer, the tension rolling off him in waves. “You what?”

A tremor ripples through my chest. Sparks ignite along my nerves, as if my entire body hums with alarm and intrigue. “I... I only want to understand what I’m walking into. I’ve served masters who lash out without warning, and I want to avoid stepping wrongly.”

His expression darkens, yet not in the way I expect. There’s a flicker of something almost like regret. “I don’t strike without cause,” he says, voice soft and lethal. “That’s all you need to know.”

The courtyard air grows thick. I clutch the fountain’s edge to steady myself. A swirl of conflicting emotions churn inside me. Beneath the fear, there’s an undeniable charge in his presence. My thoughts flash to his scaled arms, the mesmerizing pattern of black and green, how easily those limbs could crush me if he wished.

He notices my trembling grip on the fountain and reaches out, stopping just short of contact. A sharp breath hitches in my throat. He never actually touches me—his claw-tipped fingers hover inches from my arm. That near-touch might as well be a blaze.

“Calm yourself,” he orders, voice rougher than before. “I have no intent to harm you.”

The tension in my muscles refuses to uncoil. But his words spark a strange warmth in my chest, like a gentle promise hidden beneath a harsh edge. I lift my gaze, meeting his eyes. For a moment, I’m stunned by the depth of his stare. The golden hue flickers with all the menace of a predator, yet I sense a loneliness there that I can’t name.

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