Wicked Villains (Ruthless Villains Book 2)
Wicked Villains: Chapter 11

Moonlight fell in through the window and glinted against the manacle around my ankle. Sitting in the middle of my bed, I glared down at the uncooperative contraption that I still hadn’t been able to get off.

After our little excursion to the torture chamber this morning, Callan had left me in my room for the rest of the day. A dark-haired man, whose name I knew to be Yuito, had brought in food a few times, but other than that, I had been on my own. Which suited me just fine. I finally had a pair of makeshift lockpicks, so now I needed all the time I could get in order to figure out how to use them.

It wasn’t going all that well, though. Despite my hours of fiddling with the lock on the manacle, I still didn’t know exactly what to do in order to get it open.

My back ached from sitting hunched over for so long. I rolled my shoulders and stretched my arms above my head for a few seconds before shifting my weight on the mattress. Somewhere outside the window, an owl hooted. Other than that, the mansion was eerily silent. I drew my foot back towards me and then bent down over the shackles again.

While I worked, I tried to straighten out the mass of tangled feelings inside me. I picked one of the twisted threads and examined it.

I hated Callan. That one was easy. Uncomplicated.

After establishing that, I continued to the next one.

I was also extremely attracted to Callan. That one was… less easy. But still explainable. Callan was hot. And he was really good in bed.

Putting that feeling aside for now, I moved on to another.

I had come to respect Callan. A lot. Now, we were getting to the really complicated parts. Yes, I hated him for binding my magic, making me his prisoner, and taking my lands from me. But it had also made me respect him. I had thought that I had been clever with my triple double-cross when I pretended to betray him so that he would then pull one over on me so that I could then finish it with a third betrayal. But then he had gone and quadruple double-crossed me by doing something I hadn’t even considered. And as much as I hated to admit it, I was incredibly impressed that he had been able to outsmart me like that.

After all, we were dark mages. Betrayal was a common part of everything we did because it was the easiest way to shift the power balance in one’s own favor. So, successfully managing to screw someone over was not seen as something unforgivable among our people. Quite the opposite. It was proof of someone’s power and cunning, and it made the other dark mages either respect or fear that person even more.

The problem, however, was of course that I had been on the receiving end of that particular move. Which meant that reconciling my anger and my respect was currently somewhat difficult.

Since I had no idea how to deal with those conflicting emotions right now, I shoved them aside and instead moved on to something else. Something easier. I hoped.

I liked being in control. Yeah, that one was easy. I always needed to be the one giving the orders and I hated it when others tried to tell me what to do.

The next thread of tangled emotions was one I barely even dared to examine.

I actually liked giving over control to Callan in bed. Because I was always in control of everything and everyone around me in all other aspects of my life, it was so incredibly intoxicating to hand over control to someone else. Freeing, in a way. And not just hand it over to someone. To Callan.

My mind balked at the idea.

While I continued working the lock on my manacles, I turned that thought over in my head, trying to get it to make sense.

The truth was that I trusted Callan. Well, with that at least. I didn’t know if he was going to let me live for another week or if he was just randomly going to decide to cut my heart out with a force blade tomorrow, so I didn’t exactly trust him in general.

But when it came to sex, I did trust him. If I told him to stop, I knew that he would. Same thing with when he had told me to strip naked and wash myself yesterday. If I had told him that I didn’t want him to see me naked at that moment, I knew that he wouldn’t have forced me to do it. When there was anything even remotely related to sex, I knew that I was always the one ultimately in control of the if and when and how. And that made me feel safe with him.

Safe. I felt safe with Callan Blackwell. Which made no fucking sense whatsoever because we had been actively trying to kill each other for five years.

An irritated groan built in my chest, and I had to suppress a sudden urge to hurl the damn lockpicks across the room and scream in frustration.

None of it was working. I had no idea how to pick locks and no idea how to separate my feelings into something that made sense. It made me want to poison someone. Preferably Callan fucking Blackwell.

At least solving the first one would also clear the second issue. Because if I could just figure out how to get my shackles off, I could sneak across the hall and plunge a dagger into Callan’s heart. That way, I wouldn’t have to worry about something as ridiculous as my conflicted feelings about my worst enemy.

Blowing out a sharp breath, I lay down on the mattress and rolled over until I could reach the dark wooden nightstand. After carefully pulling out the small drawer, I stuck my hand underneath it and wedged the now bent needles into the gap between the bottom of it and the panel at the front. Then I closed it again.

I was too annoyed to focus on something as delicate as lock picking right now. And besides, I had already been at it for hours. I needed a break. Also, there was something else I had to test if I was to succeed in getting out of this room and killing Callan in his sleep.

The mattress shifted underneath me as I scooted down to a more normal position and then drew the cover over me. While the soft fabric enveloped my body, I placed my head on the feathery pillow. This had to look as realistic as possible.

After I had made sure that there was nothing that would give me away, I made a very quiet sound. I had to check how much noise I could make before the guard outside alerted Callan that something was wrong. Once I knew that, I would have a sound limit to work with when I finally made my move.

When nothing happened, I made another sound. A bit louder this time.

Winds whistled softly outside the window, but other than that, the mansion remained silent.

My heart thumped in my chest as I repeated the process several more times, increasing the volume a little every time.

The door banged open.

I didn’t even have to fake the shock as I leaped up from my bed and slammed my palms together by sheer instinct.

When I landed on the wooden floorboards next to the bed, I found Callan storming into my room with a force blade in his hand. His dark brown eyes shot back and forth across the room as if looking for enemies. My heart skipped a beat when I flicked my gaze up and down his body. He was only wearing a pair of pants in some kind of soft, gray material, leaving his muscled chest and abs on full display.

“What’s going on?” he demanded as his sharp eyes at last landed on me.

“What’s going on?” I snapped back at him. “You tell me. You’re the one who burst into my room in the middle of the bloody night. Are we under attack?”

“What? No.”

His gaze drifted down my body. I still slept in that large white shirt he had thrown at me yesterday, and it left my legs bare since the shirt ended at my mid-thighs. I assumed that was the reason why something possessive suddenly blew across Callan’s face.

Then it disappeared, and suspicion took its place.

“Paul told me that you were making noise.” Callan flicked a glance at the chain, making sure that I was still firmly locked to the bed, before he narrowed his eyes at me. “Why?”

So, the blond guard who relieved Yuito sometimes was named Paul? That piece of information might be useful. I filed that away while drawing my eyebrows down and then sitting back down onto the bed. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“It’s nothing,” I said, adding a touch of defensiveness to my words.

“Do you remember that conversation we had about following orders?” He arched his eyebrows at me. “When I ask you a question, you answer.”

Clicking my tongue, I lay back down and pulled the cover up to my chest while glaring at him. “I just had a nightmare.”

“A nightmare?”

“Yes. So go away and let me try to get some more sleep.”

Suspicion flared up on his features again as he watched me. “A nightmare about what?”

“About you, if you must know,” I snapped. Raising myself up on one elbow, I met his gaze before shooting a pointed look at the black rings around my arm. “About when you bound my magic and stripped me of everything I am and everything I have ever worked for.”

He looked genuinely stricken by that. I had only said it because I needed to throw him off before he became too suspicious, but my words appeared to have hit harder than I had expected. It was almost as if he… cared about me. Which was absurd.

Blowing out a deep sigh, he let the force blade in his hand fade out before he raked his fingers through his black hair.

Surprise blew through me when he started towards the bed instead of disappearing out the door again.

He jerked his chin at me. “Move over.”

I frowned at him. “What?”

“Just do it.”

While confusion still bounced around inside me, I scooted over so that I lay on one side of the bed.

A second later, the mattress dipped next to me as Callan climbed into bed as well. The wooden bedframe creaked as he shifted his powerful form until he was lying on his side next to me. Placing his hands on my body, he rolled me over so that I was lying on my side too, with my back towards him. Then he draped an arm over my side and pulled me closer.

My heart did a strange little backflip as I slid across the sheets until I lay pressed against Callan’s firm chest. His arm stayed around me, keeping me flush against him, while he rested his hand against my chest. I swore I could feel his heart beating against my back, and I was sure he could feel mine pounding under his palm.

“Get some sleep, Audrey,” Callan said.

When he spoke, his warm breath caressed my neck, making a pleasant shiver course through my body. He tightened his arm protectively around me.

My brain appeared to be malfunctioning because I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what in the world Callan was doing. Or why. But in that moment, it didn’t seem to matter.

I quite liked the feeling of his steady warmth against my body like that. It made me feel… safe.

There was that word again. The word that I didn’t know what to do with. The word that couldn’t possibly be used in the same sentence as Callan’s name.

He inhaled deeply, as if breathing in the scent of me, while his hand drifted up to my collarbones and he wrapped his arm more fully around me. And I suddenly forgot what I had been thinking about. All I could feel was his powerful body against mine. Holding me. Comforting me.

It was… nice.

And for some strange reason, that faint scent of sandalwood and leather from my borrowed shirt seemed even stronger now. My mind prickled with some kind of realization, but I pushed it aside. I suddenly felt exhausted and I didn’t want to think about complicated revelations or tangled emotions right now.

So instead, I just lay there. Feeling Callan’s chest expand every time he drew in a breath. Enjoying the way that the warmth from his body seeped into mine. The way his muscled arm around me made me feel calm and steady.

Before I even realized it, I drifted into a deep and restful sleep.

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