Ruthless Villains: A Spicy Fantasy Romance

I raked my fingers through my hair and forced out a long breath. Warm winds blew in through the open window of my room and brought with them the scent of roses and the sound of chirping birds. Stalking over to the windowsill, I dropped down onto it and stared out at the small garden outside.

Seeing my family like that had sent me crashing into the past and I’d suddenly felt all the emotions that my teenage self had been carrying around all those years. It bothered me more than I wanted to admit. Bothered me how easy it had been. That listening to one casual conversation could make me feel like I was fifteen again.

Restlessness crackled through me. I pushed to my feet and began pacing back and forth across the carpet while the birds continued singing outside the window as if nothing was wrong. Drawing my fingers through my hair again, I shook my head.

It didn’t even make sense. I had fought against powerful dark mages. I had been stabbed and beaten and almost killed more times than I cared to admit. And I had also done far worse to others. I had blackmailed and tortured and killed countless people. I should have been beyond those kinds of emotions. Beyond feeling like that. But no. One little conversation between people I had left behind years ago had sent me spiraling back into that place again.

The mattress bounced underneath me as I stopped my pacing and instead threw myself down on top of my bed. Staring up at the ceiling, I once more dragged a hand through my hair and blew out another deep sigh. I had to do something to get these feelings out of my chest again. To get my head back on straight. To return to the place where I was now and not the place I had been in all those years ago.

My eyes drifted to the closed door. Maybe I should give killing Callan another shot. If nothing else, it would give me a chance to unleash some of the pent-up irritation in my soul. However, that was dependent on whether I ended up getting the upper hand or not. If he did, it would just piss me off more.

Another wave of anger roared through me. Letting out a snarl, I glared up into the ceiling. I couldn’t afford to get distracted like this right now.

The door banged open.

I shot up from the bed and slammed my palms together. Glittering poison magic swirled around my forearms as I landed on the other side of the bed and got ready to kill the intruder.

Callan Blackwell arched a dark eyebrow at me while striding into my room like he owned the damn place. “Who was that back there?”

“When the door is closed, I expect you to knock before entering,” I said in a low and vicious voice.

“And when I ask a question, I expect you to answer it.”

The already burning irritation inside me flared up as I stared back at him. There was a cocky tilt to his chin, and power and authority seemed to pulse from his muscled body when he gave me an expectant look as if waiting for me to obey. It made me want to kill him even more. The green swirls around my arms snaked down to my hands.

Indecision flitted through me for a second before I huffed out a silent laugh. Fuck it.

I threw the poison magic at him.

He dove aside. Slamming his palms together, he rolled forward across the floor before leaping to his feet. Another cloud of poison was already speeding towards him, but he knocked it aside with a small force wall. I had to get out from the restricted position I was currently occupying between the wall and the bed, so I used his moment of inattention to leap onto the mattress.

Before I could make it to the other side, a blast of force took me in the legs. It swept them right out from underneath me and sent me crashing down on top of the mattress, making the bedframe creak in alarm. Rolling over, I tried to get into a better position.

A hand wrapped around my ankle.

My stomach lurched as Callan yanked me towards him along the bed. I raised my free leg and kicked at him. A soft groan escaped his throat as my foot collided with his stomach, and the grip on my ankle loosened. Kicking out with my other leg, I swung around to break the grip completely right as I skidded across the edge of the bed.

The move worked and Callan lost his grip on me, but the force of his pull sent me crashing to my knees on the floor in front of the bed instead.

Steel glinted in the light falling in from the open window and a large hand appeared on my shoulder, forcing my knees harder against the floor. I clapped my palms together while the knife Callan had drawn closed in on my neck.

Right before he could position it across my throat, I shoved a cloud of poison up into his face. He had to leap back to avoid it. It bought me enough time to scramble to my feet and touch my palms together. Whirling around, I turned to face him, but a force wall hit me in the chest before I could straighten.

I slammed down back first across the bed, my legs hanging over the edge and one of my arms pinned underneath me.

The mattress creaked as Callan braced a knee next to my hip and leaned over me before I could get my wits about me again. Placing a hand against my chest, he shoved me back down onto the bed while he placed the blade against my throat. I tried to move my arms, but as soon as I did, he shifted his hand from my chest to my throat. His strong fingers dug into my skin, making it clear what he was going to do if I moved my arms again.

“Now, I will ask again,” he began in a hard voice. “Who was that back there?”

I glared up at him while trying to shift my hand the final bit without him noticing. The pressure on my throat increased, and he drew the knife along my cheek and rested the tip below my left eye.

“What’s it to you?” I ground out instead.

“If it was someone who will jeopardize our mission, I need to know.”

“It wasn’t.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Pure dominance pulsed in his eyes as he stared me down. “Who was it?”

Rolling my eyes, I huffed out a dismissive breath.

His fingers slid up to my jaw, gripping it firmly and keeping my head locked against the mattress, while he shifted his knife. Keeping his commanding eyes locked on me, he traced the tip of the blade around my lips. “I know how talented you are with that tongue. I would suggest you use it to answer my questions, before I decide to cut it out.”

With his eyes staring down into my face, I at last managed to move my hand the final bit and release the poison magic attack that I had called up before his force wall hit me. A slim streak of glittering green shot straight from my hand and into his mouth.

Alarm flashed in Callan’s eyes as I shoved the poison down his throat.

Releasing me, he staggered back from the bed. I increased the strength of the poison before he could recover, and he abruptly dropped down on one knee. After pushing myself off the bed, I straightened before him and stared down at him where he was fighting a battle that he couldn’t win.

His arms hung uselessly by his sides and his muscled chest convulsed as I increased the poison even more. I took a step closer and plucked the knife from his slack grip. Straightening again, I placed the flat of the blade underneath his chin and tilted his head back so that his dark brown eyes met mine.

“You do not threaten me.” My voice was cold and hard, and I spoke slowly even though death gripped Callan’s heart tighter with every second. “You will know only what I want you to know. Nothing more. Nothing less. Do you understand?”

Hate pulsed in his eyes as he glared up at me. I increased the strength of my magic, making him double over. After shifting the knife out of the way, I leaned down and grabbed the front of his shirt. Gripping his collar hard, I yanked him back up into a kneeling position. His eyes were sliding in and out of focus and involuntary twitches racked his body.

I leaned down until he could feel my breath on his skin. “I said, do you understand?”

For another few seconds, he only continued glaring up at me with such hatred that it could have set the world on fire. Then he jerked his chin down in a nod.

Power and control flooded my soul, making me feel more like myself again.

Callan’s limbs twitched uncontrollably and his eyes were quickly losing all focus, but the expression on his face remained the same. Rage and hatred and a promise of revenge. No fear. No panic. No silent pleas for mercy. I hated to admit it, but I was impressed by that.

Holding his failing gaze, I kept my magic up for another few seconds. Just to make sure that he truly understood that I held his life in the palm of my hand right now, and that I could choose to end him right here if I wanted to. Then I pulled it back and let the glittering green tendril dissipate while I released his collar and straightened.

Dull thuds echoed into the dead silent room as Callan toppled forward, bracing his palms on the floor in front of him. His chest expanded as he sucked in a desperate breath. I backed a couple of steps away but continued to watch him while he forced oxygen back into his lungs again. When the death that had been hovering over his shoulder was at last gone, he dragged a hand through his black hair and pushed back to his feet. Hatred still flashed in his eyes when he finally looked back at me.

For a moment, nothing happened. We only stood there, staring at each other. Then he slowly touched his palms together.

The steel gray of his magic formed into a sword that he gripped in his right hand.

I held his gaze, my eyes burning with just as much rage as his. “Come at me with that force blade right now and only one of us walks out of this room. Mission be damned.”

Slow seconds ticked by. Callan clenched his jaw and flexed his fingers on the hilt of the vibrating half-translucent blade as if he was fighting the desire to attack and end this war between us once and for all.

Then he let out a derisive huff and looked away. The force blade disappeared into thin air. I continued studying him for another few seconds before allowing the tension to leave my body as well.

Callan slid his gaze back to me and crossed his arms while raising his eyebrows expectantly. “Well?”

I almost hit him with another cloud of poison magic. Oh he really wasn’t going to let it go, was he?

Staring back at him, I lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “It was my family.”

“Ah.”

He said it with such casual understanding that all the fight just bled right out of me. When the burning rage and hatred was gone, I felt hollow, and I just slumped down on the bed and blew out a long sigh. My long black hair fell across my face as I stared down at the deep red carpet for a while.

The mattress dipped to the right.

Heaving another sigh, I reached up and hooked my hair back behind my ear before turning towards Callan. He had taken a seat a short distance from me on the bed, but he was watching the pale wooden cabinet across the room.

“They’re the reason you became a dark mage.” It was half statement, half question.

“Yeah,” I replied.

Silence fell.

Outside the window, the small birds started up their merry chirping again now that the noise of battle had died down. Another warm wind blew into the room, making the thin red drapes flutter and bringing with it the scent of roses.

I glanced over at Callan. He just sat there, looking straight ahead at the cabinet. Releasing another long breath, I tipped my head back and drew my fingers through my hair. Callan said nothing. And maybe that was why I told him. Because he didn’t push. Because he didn’t demand it. Or maybe I just wanted to put my own thoughts into words so that I could leave those emotions that had swirled up where they belonged. In the past.

“They’re actually decent people,” I began. “And that was what made it so difficult.”

“To leave?” Callan asked, his eyes still resting on the pale wooden furniture.

“No. To realize that they were the reason that I was destroying myself.”

He said nothing, as if giving me time to collect my thoughts.

“My sister Jenny,” I began at last. “She’s only two years older than me, and she’s… practically a genius. She’s just effortlessly good at everything. Magic. Music. Art. Athletics. Math. Philosophy. She excelled at everything in school. And because we’re so close in age, my parents always compared us. I don’t think they did it on purpose. It just turned out that way. So whenever Jenny mastered some new skill with her wind magic, my parents always looked to me and asked what I had accomplished.”

“Sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“Yeah.” I was silent for a while before continuing. “I don’t think they meant it that way, but yeah, that was what it was like for me. I’m not as effortlessly good at things as she is, so instead I had to work my ass off. I always made sure to be kind and pleasant and perfect, but I could never compete with her on every skill she was good at. So I picked one. Magic. Because that was what I was best at. And then I just trained and studied and trained and studied until my mind and body almost gave out. So that I could show them that I was also worth…”

When I trailed off and drew in a deep breath, Callan just remained sitting there. Waiting to see if I would go on. Eventually, I did.

“They were so happy and proud that Jenny was so good at everything, and I just wanted them to be proud of me too. I sacrificed everything. My free time. My health. Most of my social life. So that I could train and get better with my magic. And I did. I was top of my class in magical abilities. And my parents were happy and proud of me and they praised me right alongside my sister, and I thought I was finally where I wanted to be. But then I suddenly turned nineteen.”

“And the graduation ceremony drew closer.”

“Yeah. And that’s when I realized that I didn’t want to give it up. I had worked so hard and sacrificed so much to prove that I was just as good as Jenny. Throughout all my teenage years, I always believed that my parents’ love depended on how well I performed. How good I was at things. How perfect I was. And then when I finally had something that I excelled at so that I could earn their love, why would I give it up?”

“And did it? Their love. Did it depend on that?”

“I don’t know. Probably not. But it always felt like it did.” I drew in a deep breath and shook my head. “I couldn’t breathe. All those years, I was constantly trying to be perfect all the time so that I could prove that I was worth loving too. And after all of that, giving up all my magic and becoming ordinary again was completely unacceptable. I had worked too hard for that. Sacrificed too much. So I schemed together a plan and then I escaped.” Glancing over at Callan, I shrugged. “My family was so embarrassed about it that they convinced everyone that I had moved to Castlebourne. Even if I were to run into any of my old teachers and they were to recognize me, none of them would think that I was a dark mage. So, to answer your question… No, our mission is not in danger.”

At last, Callan turned to face me. And for the first time, I couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking when he looked at me. Usually it was either hatred, rage, or lately, lust. But now, I wasn’t sure what emotions were swirling behind his eyes.

“Thank you,” he finally said. “For answering my question.”

That was the first time that Callan had thanked me for anything. Ever. And it threw me off my game enough that I only replied with, “Sure.”

As I studied the way the light made his dark brown eyes glow a little golden, I wondered what in the world had made me share all of that with Callan Blackwell, of all people. Only a few minutes ago, I had brought him to the brink of death with my poison magic, and now I was suddenly telling him the reason why I had decided to become a dark mage. Not that it mattered. There was nothing in that story that he could use against me when we started our war back up again.

Brushing my hands down my legs, I rose to my feet and pushed my pensive mood aside.

Regardless of the reason that I had done it, speaking my thoughts out loud like that had helped sweep away those old feelings and resettle myself in the present. Turning back around, I faced Callan once more.

We had a dinner to prepare for.