Page 153 of Adversary to the Villain

She dragged his face down toward her and placed a desperate kiss to his lips, one born of all the pain in her he’d healed, all the parts he’d mended, how vital he was to her, like air or water. He was her life.

He kissed her back with equal intensity, equal fervor, and it took every last stitch of her strength to wrench away from him, stumbling toward the book and summoning the magic inside her.

Griffin stepped forward to unlock the chains around her wrists, and they fell to the floor. She might have seen remorse in him, but she imagined even the most wretched souls had second thoughts from time to time, and an ounce of sorrow from her father was worth nothing. Mist spilled over the book in a swirl of darkness, then shot into the open pages of the book until it floated.

“Repeat after me,” Destiny said, no smugness, just determination to see the task done.“I claim my Fate as it will be and give Destiny free rein.”

In her surrender, through her agony, Evie found the silver lining.

At least it doesn’t fucking rhyme.

She repeated the words, though they felt sour in her mouth.

What would happen to them? To Lyssa? To Trystan? What would the world become in the wake of this curse?

“Gideon?” Benedict urged.

Her brother repeated his own words to the book, giving his shielding magic, the attention on him for a moment so that no one saw when Trystan turned to her.

“They cannot undo the past,” he murmured. “Do not let them fool you. They can curse the land and force it into something new, but no matter what they do, they cannot erase what’s already happened. When it’s done, you must remember.”

A loud boom echoed off the book, exploding into magical smoke, the edges of it spreading until it swallowed all of them, and Evie felt panicked. The force of it knocked her to the other side of the dandelion field.

When she sat up, she heard rumbling coming from the direction of the sea, and she saw a cloudlike, swirling mass coming toward them.

The curse.

Evangelina Sage and Trystan Maverine locked eyes.

And they ran. And ran. And reached for each other.

Their hands were about to touch. But just before they could…

The curse took them.

And everything changed.

Chapter 81

Trystan

Two weeks later…

Prince Trystan Benedict Martin had never been more furious than he was right now. Pounding through the forest on horseback, chasing after the runaway carriage with a vengeance, his Valiant Guards riding proudly aside him to stop the ne’er-do-well who had absconded with his father’s priceless artifacts.

Leaping over a fallen log, he took the lead. As heir to the throne, his responsibilities would always be the care and keeping of Rennedawn and its citizens. No doubtshewas behind this—the wretched creature who had tormented Hickory Forest and the rest of the kingdom for the last time. He would catch her, and he would rid the kingdom of her evildoing once and for all.

“I’m rounding to cut off the carriage. Stay on her tail!” Trystan ordered and was heeded immediately by several knights behind him. He made for the shortcut he’d found the other day as he’d ridden through here, scouting for the evil the public called “The Villainess” or “The Wicked Woman.”

A more ridiculous moniker there’d never been. But the memories of hunting her were fuzzy, like something his mind could not put together, though every time he dug for the reason, he was sidetracked, finding any other thing to fixate on.

Riding at full speed, he cut the carriage off at the front. The horses reared up, chuffing, the carriage unhitching and barreling for a tree, crashing into it with a sickening crunch. Trystan winced.

Dismounting his horse, he launched himself for the ruined conveyance, searching for the woman adorning all theWantedflyers in Rennedawn. She had flames for hair and an unsightly smile that unnerved even the most stoic of knights. Her cheekbones were pointed in a jagged, unappealing manner, and everything about the etching gave her the deportment of a woman who sought to harm innocents.

Trystan vowed to protect those innocents. “It’s over, Villainess,” Trystan called out, grabbing the door and yanking it off in one powerful tug, only to find it— “Empty! The carriage is empty!” he called to the knights who should have been trotting up at any moment.

But they did not. Trystan heard not even a whisper of hooves pounding the dirt. He did hear, however, a voice that made his body awaken and all his senses go on high alert.