Page 52 of Crowned In Venom

52

VARKOS

I pace the dimly lit chamber, my movements sharp, restless. Rage coils beneath my skin, barely leashed, a monster waiting to break free.

Kareth lounges in a high-backed chair, watching me with a smirk that barely conceals his amusement. The Ghost stands by the map sprawled across the table, silent, waiting.

"You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up," Kareth drawls, his voice mocking.

"Shut up." My voice is razor-edged, not in the mood for his games.

I can’t do nothing.

I can’t stand here while she suffers.

Anya’s face flashes in my mind—pale, lifeless, crumpled in my arms.

The image claws at my insides, a brutal reminder of just how close I came to losing her.

The Matriarch took everything from me—my father, my freedom, my own identity. But this—what she did to Anya—this is unforgivable.

"I will kill her," I vow. My fists clench at my sides, my breath ragged. "I will tear her apart with my bare hands."

Kareth laughs softly. "That’s all very dramatic, but if you rush in, you’ll be dead before you can touch her."

I whirl on him.

"You think I don’t know that?"

His golden eyes gleam. "Then start acting like it."

The Ghost clears his throat, stepping forward. "The Matriarch has weaknesses. You just have to exploit them."

I exhale sharply, shoving a hand through my hair. "Tell me."

The Ghost nods at the map, his gloved fingers trailing over the inked lines, pointing at key structures.

"She’s powerful, but she is not untouchable. Her palace is heavily guarded, yes, but there are vulnerabilities."

He traces a path along the outskirts.

"There are hidden tunnels—ones she has forgotten even exist. I know because I helped build them."

I still.

"You built them?"

The Ghost lifts his chin slightly. "I was not always her servant. Before she bound me, I served your father."

The words hit like a punch to the gut.

Kareth raises an eyebrow. "Well, this just got more interesting."

I grit my teeth. "Tell me everything."

The Ghost nods. "I know the tunnels, the blind spots in the palace, the places her guards overlook."

He marks several points on the map.

"Here—an old servant’s passage, long sealed, but not impenetrable. And here—an underground access tunnel she used to transport prisoners in secret."

Kareth studies the map, rubbing his jaw. "I can slip men in through these access points. But that won’t be enough."

I narrow my eyes. "Explain."

"The Matriarch isn’t just powerful because of her magic. She controls through fear. Through debt. Through loyalty twisted beyond recognition."

He leans forward, his gaze calculating.

"You don’t just need an army. You need to dismantle her empire from within."

My pulse pounds in my ears. "You want to turn her own people against her."

Kareth smirks. "She is not as untouchable as she wants you to believe. People are afraid of her, yes. But they also hate her. And hate is a powerful thing."

"And how do you suggest we do that?"

The Ghost folds his arms. "I can get inside."

I snap my head toward him.

"That’s suicide."

His smirk is hidden beneath his mask.

"No. It’s strategy."

"She’ll know you betrayed her."

"No, she won’t." He tilts his head. "She still thinks I am under her control. I am her most trusted hound. And hounds are allowed to roam freely."

It’s a risk. A massive one.

But he’s right.

If he can still sneak into the Matriarch’s inner circle, we gain an advantage no one else has.

Kareth exhales sharply. "So let me see if I understand correctly. You, Varkos, want to storm the palace like a crazed man seeking vengeance. The Ghost wants to sneak in and play informant. And I am supposed to… what? Rally the rebellion?"

I glare at him.

"You said you wanted a war, didn’t you?"

Kareth’s lips curve. "Oh, I do. I just want to make sure I get a front-row seat."

I exhale sharply, dragging a hand over my face.

This is reckless. Dangerous.

But it is the only way.

The only path forward.

"We move soon," I say, voice firm. "If we wait too long, we lose momentum. We strike before she expects it."

Kareth nods. "I’ll make preparations."

The Ghost simply says, "I will send word once I’m inside."

A plan. A fragile one, but a plan nonetheless.

And yet—something gnaws at me.

Something feels off.

A soft knock at the door makes me tense.

A servant lingers in the entrance, eyes lowered.

"My lord," she says, voice hesitant. "The human girl… she is awake."

The breath rushes from my lungs.

My heart slams against my ribs.

Anya.

She’s awake.

I don’t wait.

I don’t think.

I just run.