Novel & Cerita Xaden Venin

Xaden was a mortal enemy who promised me vengeance when he was suspended last semester. He was also the son of the man Mother is currently married to. And he just found out my darkest secret.

I made to get moving, a single-minded determination setting my course: portal, antidote, home. I hadn't come all this way to discuss existential crises or prophecy. I came for a cure. "Cardan." His voice was low, cutting through the silence. I kept walking, glancing back only over my shoulder. "If you’re going to lecture me, save it. I have a time-sensitive delivery to make." "It's Adam," Xaden said. The name stopped me dead. I turned fully to face him, my heart hammering a sudden, heavy rhythm against my ribs. "What about him? Did the poison spread?"

"Nature is on my side; vervain never bothered me," I glance up at Adam. "What is vervain?" John answers for me. "A scarce plant that burns vampires and angels alive. It's our greatest weakness,"

Ryan had just replied to her message. Eden raised an eyebrow and quickly typed one word. Eden was about to reply when the lobby’s spotlight was turned on. The host took the stage with a mic, and Eden paused, putting her phone away. Suddenly remembering something, she turned to Alain and said, "The man just now is a Living Venom." "Living Venom?" Alain looked at her with a frown. Horace and Caelus also turned their attention to her. "He’s been bathed in all kinds of toxins since he was young," Eden explained, gazing meaningfully at Room Number Two through the window. "His body is literally poisonous. Just touching his blood can poison someone, and the types of toxins can vary."

“The delivery included two blackroot seeds, powdered vervain, a diluted vial of manticore venom, and crushed blood opal.” I felt Ronan tense beside me. All ingredients that Thorne Blackpine would never know how to source properly. Not without a guide. Not without instruction. Not without Sampson. “And on the night of the Valentine’s Ball,” Maeve said, her voice sharp and clear, “that cocktail, distributed through the punch, nearly killed Evelina Dray of Nyx. If the staff and Kellan hadn’t acted quickly, she would’ve been dead before midnight.” My father’s hand clenched at his side. “You’re making assumptions—”

“Speak.” Xaden’s voice cuts through the vast hall like a hot coal dragged slowly across bone. His fangs elongate, gleaming under the dim lights like a deadly promise. The small noise around us dies almost instantly, as if the entire room wants nothing to do with his wrath. I can’t breathe properly.

"If a kiss won't work, how do we save him?" "We must use a two-part combination of herbs and your fated bond," my dad said, a sharp, spark of hope lighting up his hardened features as he reached into a leather pouch on his belt, pulling out an old, yellowed piece of parchment detailing rare botanical mixtures. "We must neutralize the effect of the poison first. There is an ancient, legendary antidote known as the Midnight Root. It is effective for curing any poisoning that has to do with loss of memory. It is a rared flower that grows only in the freezing, monster-infested outer valleys of the Crystalvale peaks, completely hidden in the crags where the sun never shines."

Xaden stretched his hand, grabbed my wrists before I could hurt myself again. He held them tight against the console and his thumbs pressed into my pulse points like he was checking if I was still alive. *“You’re not a disgrace, Veralin. You’re the only reason I’m not one.” When he had said that, I was bewildered and even the air left my lungs. I blinked twice, with tears still falling but my head was stagnant, repeating that line again like I heard wrongly. “What?” I squeezed, broken. Xaden didn't let go of my wrists, his gaze trailed up from my hands to my face.

Leander says quietly behind his glass, "because he is walking directly toward us." I have three seconds to compose myself. I use none of them productively. I am nervous and shook and caught completely off guard, and then his voice arrives from directly behind me. Low. Velvety. Rough. Very close. "Viktor Sorano." I do not turn around. I fix my eyes on my father's face and breathe. "My daughter, Seraphina. Say hello." He uses the tone reserved for introducing toddlers to strangers. I turn. Maksim Orlov is amused. His drip is immaculate. His rizz is the particular kind that belongs to genuinely hot, brooding men who do not try for it. I am breathless in a way I refuse to name out loud.

I slowly stood on my feet and rubbed my knees that were already peeled from the effect of kneeling on the rough ground for too long. Xandros held his head as he felt his head spin, his limbs felt heavy as if weighted by invisible chains. His eyes widened in realization as he stumbled backwards, his hand clutching his throat, the venomous Nightshade potion had already begun its journey into his heart as it coursed through his veins, its deadly grip tightening. The crowd watched all these happenings with their mouths agape, waiting to see the end result. “No… impossible…” he gasped, his voice strained.