Page 18 of Adversary to the Villain

Becky swallowed around the large lump that had formed in her throat.

How cowardly their mother was. Unable to face the subject of one child and avoiding the rest to keep it so. Nothing that woman would write could hurt her.

Sucking in a sharp breath, she tore at the envelope and took the parchment out, scanning, her heart thundering over every word. Sweat began to bead at her hairline, blood rushing through her ears.

Blade’s arms were around her then, her horror bared to the entire room. “Rebecka? What is it, sweetheart?” He took a hand and tilted it under her chin until her stricken eyes stared into his worried ones.

“We need to find Evie and Trystan. Now.”

“Why?” Lyssa asked, nervously crinkling her manuscript.

Becky straightened her shoulders, remembering who she was.

Rebecka Eriania Fortis. Heir to the Fortis Family Fortress and all its magic. She’d need the strength of her ancestors to propel them through what she said next.

“Because the manor is about to be torn apart from the inside.”

Chapter 8

Trystan

This was a risk.

And Trystan knew he was the only one worthy of taking it. “We’re nearly there,” he declared.

Trystan and Sage had requested Roland’s aid in parting the thorny grove at the edges of Hickory Forest. The young Fortis had tested a new concoction to feed the thorns, one made with a drop of Trystan’s blood. It had been a last resort, but it was the only way they could ensure complete security for his staff. Now he was certain: no one could get in without his knowledge. And, as it stood, nor could they get out.

It was the only reason Trystan found his current idea even mildly advisable. “How does your magic feel right now?”

“Like bad indigestion,” Sage grumbled beside him, rubbing at her chest, dagger strapped to her waist, the dark mist hidden within the depths of her body.

Lucky bastard.

But his appetite for her must stay quelled. He did not wish to scare her with how intensely he wanted her, nor did he want to push her into falling into his arms before she was ready to do it with all certainty. This was entirely new territory for Trystan—in every respect.

He no longer could rely on his magic to protect her. His supposed role in Rennedawn’s storybook prophecy had been diminished to that of a…prince. His mind rejected the word like it was a wretched curse.

And if all that was not enough, if they did not fulfill the prophecy soon, Rennedawn would likely perish.

Let it, the ill-mannered part of him pleaded.Let it burn to dust. Anything to have her. To keep her.

“I used to thinkyouwere bad indigestion,” Trystan blurted, needing to calm himself before his tight pants gave away where his mind had drifted.

“Pardon?” Sage blinked at him, bewildered, stopping before a large oak tree.

“When you smiled, it would, uh—” Gods, he was bloody bad at this. “It would make my chest ache. I could only attribute it to the acidity in my food. When I cut out oranges, I ascertained it was in fact because I was in love with you.”

Her teeth folded over her plump lower lip, biting back a smile as she continued walking, her hands clasped behind her back. “Was?” she asked, trying to sound light and disinterested, trying to keep the barrier between them erect.

As she did other parts of him.

“Already changed your mind, have you?” She was looking ahead in an effort to pay him no mind.

He wouldn’t let her.

Grabbing her hand before he could think better of it, he felt shock waves coming from where his skin touched hers. And when he looked upon her face, he saw all she was hiding from him. Love, respect, lust, warmth, joy, and pain. All of it was because of him.

Encouraging.