Page 108 of Adversary to the Villain

“I can’t,” Alexander rasped.

“You can. You need only make the choice.”

“No.” Alexander was ready for this nightmare to end.

“You’re certain? You won’t get the chance again.”

“You know damn well why I wouldn’t say yes to this.” He turned his back on Winnifred, pacing to the other end of the dock, searching for some tear in this false reality. He wasn’t truly here; this was a trick. Not real.

“Do I?” The ancient voice laughed. “Remind me.”

“Because that day I walked into the Maverines’ house, I knew I was going to be turned into a frog,” he admitted, the words burning his tongue.

“Did you? How?”

“I’m the one who arranged it,” he growled.

The truth.

He’d never given it voice. Never even allowed himself to think the words. Clare could take the fault; he couldn’t afford it. For them to know why.

As they say, the truth will set you free, Alexander thought.

And then Kingsley the man was thrown back into the world. His secret said aloud.

For the first time.

But not the last.

Chapter 53

Kingsley

Screw usable thumbs. Being a frog was easier by far.

Always landing on his feet, for example.

Such was not the case when he was released from the entrapments of the vines, falling—or rather thudding—in front of Blade and Clare. Pushing himself up onto his stomach, dark hair flopping into his eyes, Kingsley murmured, “Ouch.”

“You passed!” Clare’s eyes glittered, her smile wide. Alexander hadn’t seen one of those smiles in a long time. “And you’re human again! Oh, thank goodness. Thank goodness.”

Alexander could feel that she was happy for his goodness. In the goodness of his choices.

And though it wasn’t true, Alexander hadn’t the heart to take that victory from her.

“Moira! Three out of five is majority. What say we end this now.” Blade threw his arms wide, yelling at the librarian who had once again disappeared.

But there was no need to barter, as Rebecka’s eyes shot open, Tatianna’s following shortly after. Both women choked, clutching the ground the moment the vines released them. Alexander acted upon instinct and immediately kneeled to help them up. It was odd—in his frog body, he had never kept up with this habit, choosing irreverence and wit over courtly manners. As time passed, he’d assumed all his distinctly human traits would have gone. Yet here he was, offering his arm to a maiden in distress like the princely cliché he was.

Tatianna gripped his hand, snapping him from his lost thoughts. “Oh gods, that was horrific.”

“Are you okay?” Clare asked frantically. “What happened?”

She released a large exhale, forcing a serene expression onto her face. “It was Evie. But it wasn’t. I don’t— Trystan was in armor. Benedict’s crest.”

No. No.It couldn’t have all been for nothing. Alexander would not allow it.

He’d made concessions to his morals he never thought he would, allowed himself to be pushed around the chessboard like a pawn merely hitching a ride.