Page 118 of Assistant to the Villain

She entered slowly, feeling wrong. This room had been off-limits to her as a child, and despite her spiral into adulthood, it still felt like breaking a rule to enter without permission.

The crackle of the fire was dwindling, offering the room the slivered ends of remaining light. There was a small bookshelf pushed against the wall, with a few thick volumes and a few thinner—clearly children’s books Evie had loved as a child.

Staring back at the door with just a little bend of her neck to see into the hallway, Evie crept farther into the space, walking around slowly, assessing.

A candle flickered, and wax dripped onto a piece of parchment angled off to the side. Parchment that looked like it had been crumpled into a ball and then uncrumpled a good ten times before it was laid flat again.

Evie pulled a pin from her hair and flung it as close to the desk as it would fall. “Oops,” she muttered quietly to herself. After jogging over lightly and bending to grab the pin, Evie straightened just enough to peek at the words on the paper. Some of the ink was blurred, but what was etched at the bottom was clearly visible, and it caused a deep shudder of horror.

It was a letter—a long one.

Signed “with love” at the bottom…from the last person she’d expected.

Nura Sage. Her mother.

Chapter 53

The Villain

“I think they’re done,” Gushiken whispered above the dripping quiet of the downstairs cellar, just a floor above the torture chambers. This time of day, his prisoners were exceptionally loud in their dramatically painful-sounding moans.

Trystan was unsure of how the guvres slept so soundly through the noise. It was as if they were lulled by the agony of others. In all fairness, he often was as well.

“As long as they’re content, their magic should stay mild enough to keep them contained,” Trystan said. His thoughts were not nearly as focused as his words. They were a tangled riot, reviewing all the events that had transpired in the last few weeks and the chaos they had wrought.

But at least both guvres were back in his possession. Blade’s leather ropes had proven shockingly useful…even if the man himself wasn’t.

How he’d ever thought this man was a certified animal trainer was beyond him. He really needed to fact-check résumés before hiring going forward.

“Is that why you had me remove the wall in there?” Blade asked, tapping his chin and nodding toward the cage.

“Why else?” Trystan asked sharply.

“I don’t know.” The dragon trainer adjusted his vest. “I thought perhaps you took pity on them.”

“I don’t feel pity. Ever,” he said, trying to sound authoritative, but he knew how juvenile it came out.

The male guvre curled closer to the female, and they sighed quietly together.

“I just—” Trystan paused.

Last night, he had heard the male give off a low-pitched cry and watched as he raised his clawed foot and lightly scratched it against the wall separating him from his mate. As if he knew any attempt to get to her would be futile but he couldn’t find it in himself not to try.

The Villain was still in denial that he possessed a heart, but if he did…it might have cracked. Just a little.

“How is Ms. Erring?” Trystan asked, changing the subject and walking toward the stairs that ascended back into the office space.

“She’s fine. Back to breathing fire with the best of them.”

“That was a joke?” Trystan was doing his best to appreciate humor in others rather than rail against it.

“Yes, sir.” Blade smirked, walking up the stairs beside him.

“Very good.”

“Thank you?” Blade asked hesitantly.

Trystan walked into the office, which had been completely cleared. Sage’s desk was empty, her cloak and bag gone.