Assistant to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #1) (95)
How could the reality of kissing her possibly surpass the euphoria that was pumping through his veins at what his own imagination had conjured?
In a devastating moment, her lips pulled from his just an inch before the Dream Evie whispered, “Sir, they think—”
“Shhhh,” he whispered, pulling her in for one more slow touch of their lips. She resisted for a moment before settling once more against his mouth and gripping his cheeks in her hands.
He thought he heard someone cough, which was quite rude of his subconscious, but he pulled back anyway and watched as her lips drifted closer, wanting to bring her back to him.
“What were you going to say, love?” he whispered, smiling crookedly as he ran a hand down her soft cheek.
Her eyes widened with something like…hope? Before it vanished and was replaced with realization. “Oh,” she whispered. “You heard my lie to the knights about us being married? That’s why you—”
“What?” He tilted his head, the dream no longer making sense. He didn’t want to, but he looked beyond Evie to the crowd surrounding them. Valiant Guards were standing at attention, watching them with laser focus. Civilians were gathered around, and Arthur was leaning off in the corner, covered in blood.
It was all so—
Deadlands, this is real.
Before he could think, he stood, bringing Sage up with him, and shoved her behind him. His power boiled beneath his skin, wanting to destroy, needing to eviscerate. But before he could strike, one of the knights stepped forward.
“We mean you and your wife no harm. She explained everything.” My wife? He looked toward Sage and read the quiet communication behind her eyes.
“I told them about our troubles with conceiving, dear.”
The Villain was almost certain that if there had been an attempt made at conceiving with Sage, he would remember. Vividly.
“Yes. I see.”
Sage looked relieved as she closed her hand in his. He refused to enjoy it.
“Everyone may go.” The knight with the kind voice emerged from the crowd. “We’re sorry for frightening you further. And I assure all of you, we are doing our best to catch the guvre and capture The Villain.”
The crowd clapped lightly at the pretty speech, as did Trystan. He’d enjoy watching them try.
As the crowd dispersed, Trystan noticed for the first time since he woke that he no longer heard the guvre’s calls overhead. Either Blade and his sister had succeeded, or King Benedict had won yet another round of the battle between them.
He was determined to find out, but he was caught off guard by a shorter Valiant Guard hoisting Arthur up by his shoulders. “You need to see a healer as soon as possible, my lord. Please follow me this way.”
Rebecka followed as well, beside Arthur, holding a scrap of fabric that looked suspiciously like it had come from Evie’s dress. Both Rebecka and Arthur disappeared quickly in the darkness of the trees, and Trystan stepped forward to follow, mistrustful of anyone who answered to the king.
But he was interrupted by the knight who’d dismissed the crowd. He was speaking to Evie. “What did you say your name was, my lady?”
Trystan stepped quickly toward her and swept his arms about her shoulders, tucking her into his side. “She’s taken,” he said flatly.
The knight chuckled and began to lift his helmet but stopped when two other knights swept over.
One of the new arrivals removed his old helmet, revealing a crop of red hair. “I can take you to see the other healer as well, my lord, to look at your head.”
“I don’t need—”
“I insist,” the redhead said smoothly. “I’ll show you and your wife the way.” He turned toward the darkness of the wood, in a different direction from Arthur. Trystan would wait until they were nearly to the healer, and then he’d dispatch this man.
With reluctance, he followed, keeping Sage close to him, still feeling the tingling burn of her lips against his. He wanted to touch them to quell the sensations, but it would give too much away, and he was already horrified that his feelings had been on such public display.
The buzz of people leaving the peak faded into the night, and Sage’s gaze kept darting around like a cornered animal, looking for any means of escape. Another knight appeared, walking toward them from the darkness.
His helmet was off as well, and he had a weathered face, accompanied by gray peppered throughout his hair. “There you are,” the man said, smiling. “The healer’s this way, my lord. Let me help you.” Trystan wasn’t about to allow that, but the man’s arm snaked around Trystan’s before something hard slammed into his back, knocking him to the ground.
“No!” Sage screamed. Trystan reacted violently to the sound, turning over and moving to stand before freezing against the tip of the redheaded knight’s blade. The Villain nearly moved anyway when he saw the other knight grab Sage from behind, closing a hand over her mouth.
“Release her,” Trystan said darkly, feeling his power begin to surge.
The redhead pressed the tip of the blade into the skin on Trystan’s upper chest, drawing a drop of blood. “Erix!” he called to the other knight. “Be gentle with the lady.” But he was smirking when he said it.
Trystan’s breathing hitched when he saw Erix lean toward Sage’s ear and whisper, “Yes, real gentle, of course.” He made a puckering sound against Sage’s cheek, and Trystan clenched his teeth so hard, they nearly shattered. But Sage did not wither or cry beneath the words; she began to thrash wildly. Muffled screams of outrage came from her covered mouth.