The Villain
Trystan had asked her how to get free, not how to ruin his fucking life.
Was he still in destiny’s test? Could this be a dream?
No. He knew the feel of her mouth, the taste, the way his whole body lit like a match at even a whisper of her touch. This wasn’t a whisper, though; this was burning, flaying him open.
It was torment. It was the deadlands’ punishment sent to damn him for all the evil he’d wrought. She hummed, as he’d heard her do so many times outside his office, except now it was against his lips. How many times had he imagined tasting the gentle sound? How many times had he imagined quieting her ramblings with a hard kiss?
He’d imagined silencing her for hours.
But after the smallest response of his lips, he opened his eyes and shoved away hard, grappling for his sword…which was now in Sage’s hands. Satisfaction danced in her eyes as she angled it in his direction.
He was dumbstruck in love with her.
Shit, shit, shit.
“What was that?” he inquired with an impressively detached steadiness. “An accident?” she said sardonically—a clear dig at the pitiful excuse
he’d given her back at the manor. She smiled—the scary one; her rouge was slightly smeared. Because of him.
Well, that was it. He’d held out long enough. Damn the consequences.
But before he could dive back onto her, she lightly poked the capped tip of the sword into his chest. “It was a distraction. You told me not to think.”
“And that was your first instinct?” He turned his head away so she wouldn’t see how he touched his lips to quell the sensations.
“It was,” she said casually.
He thought of a million things he could say to scold her.
Sage, that was irresponsible. Sage, that was unprofessional.
Sage, if you kiss me again, you’ll kill me.
Maybe not the last one.
“That wasn’t what I had in mind,” he settled on, shifting his weight. Which was true—what he had in mind was flipping her on her back and stripping her naked.
“But it worked,” she said with a wild gleam in her eye that he refused to extinguish.
He gently tilted his head, acknowledging her victory, and then said carefully, “You are correct, but why don’t I show you a few maneuvers to get out of that position that don’t include kissing?”
“I suppose I could—”
“Save one for us, sweetheart.” The new voice jarred them both, and Trystan swung himself around, maneuvering Sage behind him.
They were met with shiny silver armor, the king’s crest, and raised weapons poised to kill. Four Valiant Guards had entered through the hidden veil of the Fortis Fortress.
Trystan’s power climbed from the depths of his body, already dark, already searching. He couldn’t help but smile at the men who had made him suffer. “It’s about time you boys caught up.”
His power flared out.
And then everything went horribly wrong.
