Page 25 of Venom (St. Sebastian’s at Cravenmoor Academy #1)

Blake

T his farce with Ana is going to be a bore. But it’s a necessity. Moving me into place by her own hand couldn’t have been better planned. She has no idea what awaits. She thought she could get one up on Venetia, but she seriously has no clue how this shit works.

I make my way back to the library, Rafferty a restless shadow at my heels. He throws himself into the armchair opposite mine, the leather groaning in protest.

“So, you’re really going to let that bitch hang off your arm all night?” he asks, a note of disgust in his voice.

“Ana is a pawn, and a predictable one at that. She believes my presence at her side tonight is a victory, a sign that the old order still holds. She’s wrong.”

“She’s a means to an end,” Rafferty grunts, understanding. “You’ll be on the inside, a witness to her idiocy.”

“Precisely. I’ll be there to observe. To ensure the fallout lands exactly where it should: at Ana’s feet. Viper will provide the brutality, you will provide the chaos, and I will orchestrate the narrative.”

The plan is elegant in its simplicity. We will give Ana and Headley enough rope, and they will hang themselves with it. Venetia will emerge as a queen who just had her first public execution carried out. We will be the ones who handed her the axe. It’s a perfect overture to our reign.

He stares at me thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Just thinking that you’ve not mentioned it.”

“Mentioned what?” I ask casually, although I’m fully aware that he fucked Venetia in the locker room of the gym. Christ. Everyone knows already.

Rafferty smirks, a lazy, satisfied expression on his bruised face. “The main event after the spar. She wanted it. Wild.”

“I’m sure the entire student body will have seen it by now, thanks to the first years who stumbled upon your rabid fucking.”

Rafferty just laughs, unconcerned. “Let them talk. It just adds to her legend, doesn’t it? The untameable queen who takes what she wants. She came undone for me, with Stone watching every second. She loved it.”

“She loves chaos. She used you to provoke him. You were a tool, Rafferty. A very willing one, I grant you, but a tool nonetheless.”

“Well, fuck you too,” he grunts. “She will come to me again.”

“It served its purpose. It reinforces the narrative. It makes her seem volatile, unpredictable. It will make Headley overconfident tonight. But remember the goal. We present a united front. Impulsive actions can have unforeseen consequences.”

Rafferty scoffs, the sound raw and dismissive.

“The only consequence was that she’s now thinking about my cock instead of yours.

I’d call that a win.” He leans forward, the feral glint returning to his eyes.

“You should have seen his face, Blake. He wanted to kill me. He wanted to kill her . She broke something in him.”

“She tested a cage and found the bars were strong. She didn’t break him. He can’t be broken. You were a pawn in her game with him. A very satisfying one for you both, I’m sure, but a pawn nonetheless.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue the point. He knows I’m right.

“Tonight, Headley will see Stone as the primary threat. He’ll plan for the brute. He won’t plan for you.” My gaze meets his. “You are the variable. The ghost in the machine. Your job is to ensure the chaos is memorable. Make sure no one gets away before the lesson is finished.”

A slow, vicious smile spreads across his bruised face. “Leave the party planning to me. I’ll make sure it’s a night no one at St. Sebastian’s ever forgets.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Plan’s changed.” Viper’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

I look up to see him and Venetia striding towards me.

She is dressed to kill in a white dress that skims her curves.

Rafferty sits up straight instantly, practically drooling.

She shoots him a slow smile and comes to a stop beside him, resting her hand on the back of his neck, like an animal she is trying to soothe. It’s an analogy that isn’t far wrong.

“Oh?” I ask.

Viper looks at me, but his words are for everyone. “The plan tonight is that Venetia ditches me.”

Venetia’s fingers stroke the back of Rafferty’s neck, a slow, possessive gesture that has my friend preening like a cat.

It’s a masterful performance. She’s claiming Rafferty in front of Viper, and Viper is allowing it, presenting a fractured front to anyone who might be watching. It’s clever. Devious. I approve.

“She’s going to let the weasel think he’s won,” Viper continues, his voice a low growl. “She’ll go with him to his little party. Seduce him. Make him think he’s getting everything he wants.”

“And you?” I ask, my gaze shifting from Viper’s cold fury to Venetia’s placid, dangerous calm. “What will you be doing while your charge is slipping her leash?”

A cruel, humourless smile twists Viper’s lips. “I’m going to give Ana what she wants. My attention.”

Rafferty stiffens under Venetia’s touch. “You’re going to fuck her?” he snarls, the possessiveness back in full force.

“No,” Viper says, and the word is a flat, cold promise. “I’m going to let her think she has a chance. It’s ammo for later.”

The new plan clicks into place, its brutal elegance undeniable.

It’s a multi-layered attack. Headley is humiliated, Ana is implicated and exposed, and Venetia is given a public justification for war against Ana at a later date.

We all know she will slip through the cracks tonight.

The blame will land on Headley and his crew.

This is a perfect opportunity for Venetia to get her vengeance.

“It’s an elegant strategy,” I say, my voice a quiet note of approval in the charged air.

The initial plan was crude; this is a symphony of manipulation.

“More permanent.” My gaze meets Viper’s.

He is more than just a brute; there is a cunning mind behind the violence, a mind that understands the long game.

He’s not just her shield; he’s sharpening her sword.

My respect for the man goes up more than a few notches.

Venetia’s fingers finally leave Rafferty’s neck, a silent dismissal, and she steps back, placing herself at the centre of our lethal quadrangle. He doesn’t let her go so easily. He leans forward and grabs her hand, pulling her onto his lap, facing outward. She smiles and grinds down on him.

It makes my cock hard. With a level of intensity, I watch her playing with her prey. Rafferty is a lost man. He will never recover from her, and I don’t blame him. She is something else altogether. Simply a name before, now she is a legend filled with fire and ice.

Venetia grinds down harder on him, a slow, deliberate motion, and Rafferty’s eyes glaze over with pure, unadulterated lust. She is not merely returning his feral energy; she is mastering it, owning it, and using it as a weapon against us all.

She is demonstrating that her pleasure is a currency she alone controls, and she is making us all bankrupt.

The sight of it, the sheer audacity of her power, sends a hot bolt of lust to my cock.

I rise and cross over to them. Placing my fingers at the nape of her neck, I draw them downwards, tracing the path between her breasts, making her shiver.

I can feel Viper’s intense stare, but I don’t engage.

Instead, I lean down and lick the side of her neck.

She gasps at the contact.

Her head tilts back, a silent, breathtaking invitation. Her body trembles in Rafferty’s hold, but her eyes, when they find mine, are sharp with a calculating fire. “Careful, Blake,” she breathes, her voice a low purr of warning and pure temptation. “You might develop a taste.”

“I already have,” I murmur against her throat, inhaling her scent of expensive perfume and sinful sex. It is a heady, intoxicating combination.

Rafferty’s grip on her waist tightens, a possessive, guttural sound rumbling in his chest, but he doesn’t push me away. He is as mesmerised by this power play as I am. Viper says nothing. He doesn’t need to. He is allowing this. For now.

And that right there shines a whole new light on this situation. She is his. We are the ones who need to scramble to catch up. He will allow her to play, but there is no mistaking who her master is.

It changes everything and nothing. As long as he doesn’t stand in my way, he can be whoever she needs him to be.

Venetia places a hand on my chest and pulls me closer. Her gaze catches Viper’s, and he closes his eyes briefly, but it’s all he does. It’s a sign of approval, one she needs to seek from him. Her lips brush mine, and I take the opportunity to bite her bottom lip. She hisses.

A small, sharp sound of pain and pleasure that vibrates through me.

I taste the faintest metallic tang of her blood on my tongue and pull back, a slow, predatory smile touching my lips.

Her eyes are wide, her pupils blown, a flicker of shock warring with a blaze of arousal.

That is the reaction I wanted. A sharp, unforgettable claim.

“A king marks his queen,” I murmur, my voice for her ears alone.

Rafferty’s arms tighten around her, his growl a low, guttural vibration.

Viper’s mask of impassivity cracks. Just for a second. A muscle leaps in his jaw, and the cold fury in his eyes intensifies into something that promises retribution. He allowed this, but I have pushed the boundaries of his permission. Excellent.

Venetia recovers first, of course. A slow, dangerous smile spreads across her features.

She licks the drop of blood from her lip, her gaze a challenge.

“Does he now?” she purrs and takes my hand, placing it on her thigh.

I take over and run it under her dress and over the blade she has strapped to her thigh.

I bypass it with a fleeting smile, straight to her pussy.

I raise an eyebrow when I feel she is completely bare, open for me to flick her clit.

She trembles on Rafferty’s lap, and the thrill I get from doing this where anyone can see courses through me.

Her pussy is slick and hot against my fingers, showing me her arousal. A half-moan, half-gasp, escapes her as I circle her clit, and she arches against Rafferty, a silent offering of her pleasure to all of us.

Sliding two fingers inside her, I stifle my groan of desire. She coats my fingers, and I thrust deeper, twisting them to give her maximum pleasure.

Her heat, her wetness, is a confession whispered only to me in this public theatre of dominance. Rafferty’s hold on her tightens, his breathing a guttural accompaniment to the slick sounds of my fingers inside her.

I glance at Viper. His face is a mask of stone, but his eyes give him away.

He is watching her, only her, cataloguing every shudder, every hitched breath.

He is not watching a betrayal; he is watching a test. He is measuring her, measuring us, and I know with cold certainty that we are all being judged.

My thumb finds her clit again, pressing down in a steady, relentless rhythm that matches the thrust of my fingers.

Her head falls back against Rafferty’s shoulder, a choked cry tearing from her throat.

Her pussy clenches around my hand, a convulsive, desperate grip.

It is a shared victory, a shared declaration of war.

She comes apart for all of us, a supernova of pleasure and power, and in that moment, she belongs to no one and all of us.

I withdraw my hand slowly, deliberately, and bring my fingers to my lips, tasting her.

Her gaze locks on mine, and she smiles. “How do I taste?”

“Like mine,” I growl and clamp my hand on the back of her neck, crushing my lips to hers so she can taste herself on my lips. Her tongue plunges into my mouth, and it takes everything I have not to drag her from him and rail her up against the stacks.

One day, but not today.