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.
Erix tightened his grip, his arms struggling to hold her. “Be still, wench! Fredrick and I simply want to ask you both some questions.”
“And how do you expect her to do that with your disgusting hand wrapped around her mouth?” Trystan had had enough of this little charade; his power was done waiting. It was time to slaughter these fools, but he halted when Fredrick said something that chilled Trystan’s blood.
“They have the core healer in custody. Your little wife over here was with him when we found him. We’re just being sure you are not accomplices.”
“What are the charges against him?” Trystan asked, his eyes darting back to Sage, who had not stopped thrashing and trying to break free for a second. The blade Fredrick was holding was still pressed to his skin, but The Villain would allow it, let the knights think they had the advantage.
Fredrick sneered and pressed the sword even deeper into Trystan’s skin. “That’s none of your—” He stopped when Erix began screaming behind him.
“Bitch! She fucking bit me!” The knight was shaking his hand out, faint teeth marks in his skin. All heads turned to Sage, who used her freedom to bring her booted foot up between Erix’s legs—hard. The man screamed and toppled over.
The other guard turned his head slowly to look at Trystan, still using the sword to hold Trystan down.
The Villain smiled at the man, enjoying watching the knight falter as The Villain’s hand gripped around the blade and squeezed. The sharp cut into his palm was nothing.
Blood dripped down Trystan’s hand as he used all his strength to push the sword in the other direction. By the grace of surprise and by the weakness of the other man, Trystan was able to knock the sword completely aside and spring to his feet, slamming his bloody fist into the knight’s face. He fell to the ground with a thud, and Trystan was on him.
He never understood why people would say their vision went red from their anger. His vision was often the clearest and the most colorful when he was feeling a powerful fit of rage.
He struck out with his fist, snapping Fredrick’s head back with a sickening thwack, blood spurting from the man’s nose and mouth in a satisfying bloom of red. The knight fell backward, unconscious before he hit the ground.
The Villain stretched his neck from side to side and drew his sword as he stood to look at Sage and the other knight, who was still on his hands and knees.
Erix looked up, first at the bloody face of his companion and then between them. “We—we were told we’d caught The Villain. The core healer! We were just—just following orders, my lord!” The man stuttered over every word, shaking as Trystan stalked closer. “No! No, my lord. We just wanted a reward!” The man sobbed. “For catching The Villain.”
Trystan chuckled as he moved the tip of his sword to the man’s taut chest. “Oh, but I’m afraid you didn’t catch The Villain.”
He whispered the next words so quietly, even Sage wouldn’t hear. “The Villain caught you.”
Erix’s eyes widened, and he pleaded, “No, no, sir, we meant you no harm. Please, please let us go.”
“You meant her harm,” Trystan bit out, his power surging around him. “And that is enough for me.”
And then he shoved the blade into the man’s chest, piercing his heart and killing him instantly.
Trystan watched as the man’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground. Chest heaving, The Villain felt his power ache beneath his skin, wanting to be used, the rush of adrenaline pumping through him.
But when he finally looked up, Sage was staring between the body Trystan was hovering over and the unconscious one a few feet away. He stepped to the side, suddenly very aware of the blood covering his clothes and the spatter of spray marking her once immaculate dress.
There was a metaphor in there somewhere, and he had no desire to find it.
“Evie…” Her name sounded rough and awkward on his lips, instead of soft like he’d intended. His last wish was to frighten her any further.
But she surprised him when she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “Thank you,” she mumbled into his shoulder while his arms remained stiffly at his sides. He wasn’t sure what to do. The last time someone had hugged him—well, to be quite honest, he didn’t remember the last time someone had hugged him.
He’d forgotten how unnerving it was. “Um,” The Villain muttered awkwardly. “I don’t know what to do now.” He meant about the danger they faced, but instead she moved his hands in a light embrace. Leave it to his assistant to completely disarm him in her misunderstanding.
“You just put your arms around me,” she instructed, returning her hands to his neck. “It’s not hard.” She was breathing fast. “You ruined my dress.”
“I’ll buy you another,” he said, slowly bringing his arms up farther to circle her warmth, feeling frustrated and a little embarrassed at the stiff unsureness of the gesture. He was an intelligent person—figuring out the mechanics of affectionate touches shouldn’t have been so difficult.
“Good.” She exhaled into his neck, no doubt soaking her dress even more on the red dripping from his own shirt. Sage pulled back to look at his attire and smiled lightly, scrunching her nose. “I think you’ll need a new shirt as well, sir.”