Page 63 of Craving Venom (The Venomous Beauty Trilogy #1)

“They both leave scars that never fade. Love kills, just as surely as death. The only difference is death is merciful enough to finish what it starts. Some things deserve to be loved. Some things deserve to be ended. Sometimes, you don’t get to know which until your hands are already stained.”

“So you’re saying…” Her foot slides slightly on the floor, as if she’s inching closer to her own point. “You’ll kill again?”

“I will. If I have to.”

“But what about the law?” She presses, as though she thinks she’s found some weak spot. “I mean, that’s what got you here. Doesn’t that matter?”

“The law’s a joke. A piece of paper written by people who pretend they’re above the blood and dirt. But when it comes down to it? A piece of paper won’t stop me from tearing the world apart for her.”

The redhead tucks her chin slightly, drawing a deep breath through her nose as if steadying herself before she can ask another question.

“I belong to her,” I finish.

Silence swallows the room whole.

“And there’s nothing more dangerous than a man who’s owned.”

Faith’s eyes snap up, burning with questions she doesn’t have the words for yet. I could get lost chasing every one of them, but deep down, I already know the one that’s coming will land where it hurts most.

“Do you…”

The sound barely escapes her lips.

“…regret it?”

The question slams into me, harder than it fucking should.

“Regret what, baby?”

Her lips press together, but her eyes don’t leave mine.

“The blood on your hands,” she clarifies. “Do you… regret it?”

No.

The answer’s already there, sitting on the tip of my tongue.

But I hate it.

Hate the way her eyes dim before I even speak.

“No.”

Her lashes quiver and her expression slips for a moment before she casts it aside, hiding whatever just flashed through her eyes.

The spark in her eyes is gone, and fuck that, I won’t let her look at me with that kind of emptiness. I would rather face her hate than her disappointment.

So I give her the truth.

“I don’t regret it. If anything, I regret not killing them deader.”

Her knee starts bouncing in a jittery rhythm as if she needs the movement to keep herself from lunging at me.

“I should’ve taken my time.” The words roll off my tongue slower now. “Made them suffer. Made them beg. Should’ve carved them open piece by fucking piece. I should’ve let them know what was coming. Should’ve whispered in their ears while they cried.”

A sharp gasp slips from Faith, barely louder than the others, but it’s the only one I hear.

Her chest barely moves, and her eyes widen, not in fear but in disbelief.

It’s like her mind is scrambling to process the level of depravity I just laid bare, but she can’t because this is who I am. And now, she knows it too.

“And when I was done?”

A stillness takes over me, so absolute that even my heartbeat seems quieter, as if my body refuses to interrupt this moment.

“I should have bathed in their fucking blood.”

The words aren’t even fully out of my mouth when two guards yank me out of the chair, treating me like a rabid dog. One locks a bruising grip around my arm while the other blocks my path, already reaching for his baton.

“Enough,” one of them growls. “You’re done.”

“On your feet, Valehart.” The other spits my name. “Let’s go.”

The chains clink as I stand, but I don’t fight it.

The students are staring at me with sickened expressions with their notebooks completely forgotten, while others remain transfixed. They came here hoping to catch a glimpse of the monster, and I gave them exactly what they wanted.

But I don’t give a fuck about them.

My eyes are only on Faith.

The guards drag me through the library, their fingers grinding into my arms with pointless force, but halfway through the cell block, I’ve had enough. I brace myself and rip to a sudden halt.

“Get the fuck off me.”

The one behind me stumbles but lets go, and the one in front does the same. I don’t wait for their permission. I turn and head toward my cell.

The water hisses out of the ancient pipes, sputtering until it evens out, and steam quickly thickens the air, clinging to the walls and curling around my skin.

I step under the stream, flinching at the cold bite that fades almost instantly as the heat kicks in, and as the vibrations ripple through the pipeline against my hand, I steady myself, feeling a smile tug at my lips.

This place might be a shithole, but it’s predictable. Reliable.

I let the water run down my face, soaking through my hair and into my skin. My shoulders relax as the shower washes away the weight of Faith’s disappointment.

The water pounds against my back, running over the ink carved into my skin, the heat sinking deep enough to make my muscles throb with something close to relief, and I’m about to shut off the stream when I catch the soft creak of the cell door swinging open.

I don’t turn around.

I know who it is.

There’s only one person who would dare to walk in here uninvited.

I let the water run for a moment longer before shutting it off. The air’s thick with steam as I grab the towel from the hook, drying myself off. Wrapping the towel low around my waist, I step out of the shower. Water drips down my chest, pooling at my feet as I look up.

Faith’s standing just past the door with her arms crossed over her chest. Her stare is unapologetic as it sweeps across my tattoos, tracing every line down my torso before slipping even further south.

She fights the instinct to react, but I don’t miss the way her eyes catch on the towel hanging low on my hips

And yeah, my body’s giving me away.

The hard length of my cock pressing against the towel’s thin excuse for cover makes it obvious.

“You could’ve just asked.” Her head snaps up and her eyes meet mine, but this time they’re not filled with shock or fear.

“It would’ve been easier,” I add, curling my lips just enough to make her glare. “If you wanted to see me naked, baby, all you had to do was say so.”

“Was any of it true?”

“Which part?”

“That stupid blood bath fantasy of yours.”

“It’s all true.” I swipe my tongue on my lower lip for extra effect.

Her hands clench tight at her sides before she storms forward, bridging the space between us with a rage that trembles through every step.

“Do you even hear yourself? How are you not dead from self-loathing already?” She shoves at my chest. But it doesn’t do shit. All it does is bring her closer.

“You slaughtered them and all you can talk about is how you should’ve done it slower, made it bloodier, soaked yourself in it like some deranged animal.

And you’re proud of that? Proud of the way you tore them apart without a second thought?

Jesus, Zane. If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to look at my own reflection.

I wouldn’t be able to breathe knowing what I’d done, let alone wear it like a badge of honor. ”

Her fists curl, pressing harder, but I don’t move.

“Alex was a kid.” Her palms flatten against my chest and her fingers tremble even as her anger tries to hold steady. “A scared little boy who had no idea what was happening, and you—” Her jaw tightens as her eyes draw into a glare. “You failed him.”

Stop.

“He must’ve been terrified, staring down the barrel of a gun held to his head,” she whispers, and her words fucking gut me. “Did he cry? Did he ask you not to do it?”

Stop.

“Did he look at you with those big, scared eyes wondering why one of his own was pulling the fucking trigger?”

STOP.

“Faith,” I start, but she cuts me off before I can get another word out.

“I don’t care,” she snaps. “I don’t give a fuck if your mother was abusive. I don’t care what she did.”

My throat tightens.

“She never was,” I grind out.

“Then why?”

Her breath lowers, but it’s not softer. It’s more dangerous.

“Why the fuck did you do it, Zane?”

Words fail me, swallowed by the image of Alex, his face wet with tears, his small hands shaking as he desperately fights to push the gun from his head.

“Please, Zane…”

Fuck.

“You were supposed to protect me.”

Please don’t make me do this.

“Answer me!”

Her words cut into the memory, but they can’t reach me; I’m already gone, lost in the sound of Alex’s sobs pounding against my ears, louder than Faith’s voice, louder than anything else that dares to exist.

“Stop.”

My command is barely above a growl, but she doesn’t.

“Why, Zane?”

I said stop.

“Why did you do it?”

“STOP!”

The sound explodes out of me and rebounds off the walls, but she doesn’t stop or even hesitate because she’s just as far gone as me.

“Why?” she demands again. “So you could feel powerful? Is that why you did it? What’s next, Zane?” Her chest tightens and her eyes narrow while poison drips from her lips. “You going to bathe in my blood?”

That fucking breaks me.

“I want out.”

It’s barely a whisper, but it’s louder than a bomb going off.

Faith turns and her fingers curl around the handle, trembling in a way that doesn’t escape me as the door drags while she pulls it open, letting a sliver of cold air slip through, but before she can step away, I shove the door closed with enough force to rattle the metal.

Her shoulders rise and fall in shaky, uneven motions, struggling to swallow down the anger burning through her, daring me to stop her again, and I close the space between us until the steam binds us together, until my chest brushes her back and every trembling breath she takes pulls me further into the storm she’s barely holding back.

I could stand here all day.

But I won’t.

Because I want her to feel every inch of my control snapping like a fucking leash.

“The only thing I’ll bathe in…”

I brush my mouth over her ear, pressing into her hard enough to pin her against the cold steel, leaving her nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

“…is your come.”