Page 106 of Apprentice to the Villain

“Do you think”—he spoke quietly against the warmth of her lips—“that I would fall for such an obvious,viletrick? That thisfarcecould ever compare to the real thing?” He pushed her away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The fake Sage reeled back with wide, innocent eyes. They weren’t hers. He could clearly see that now. When he looked into them, he felt nothing.

“Even so,” the fake Sage said, the voice sounding different, too—wrong. “This is your chance to be with her fully. You won’t ever have that in the real world. She won’t ever haveyou. I am crafted from destiny, and I can see resistance from herandfrom you. She will turn away from you eventually. Or you can have all of her, in a way, now.”

He nudged the fake back farther, gently, having difficulty causing any actual harm to a figure who resembled her so. It was another display of feebleness.

At this point, he was collecting weaknesses like deranged little knickknacks.

“I would sooner take the scraps she lay at my feet,” he stated, “than commit myself to a cheap imitation.”

The fake Sage’s lip curled into a snarl, but not before an object soared through the air, knocking her in the back of the head.

They both turned in the direction it had come from, and there, covered in grime, her hair unbound and her face furious, was Evie—the real one. He knew, down to the marrow of his bones—deep within everything that made him human, made him whole—that she was real. And she was here, in his dream. How?

She smirked. “I do take the ‘don’t beat yourself up’ sentiment quite seriously, but you are making it awfully tempting.”

He smiled despite himself, and the word he’d been keeping at bay echoed again, but this time he didn’t shove it away.

Love.

He’d fight for it—for her—no matter the price.

Chapter 65

Evie

It was a new low, in every sense, having to stare at one’s own backside.

When she first saw the impostor, she’d panicked. Then, when she saw how close the fake was to her boss, she got…very angry. Enough to pick up the first object she could find and chuck it—hard.

Had that been a paperweight? Sheknewthey’d make a good weapon. She giggled.

“I’m sorry, did that really hurt?” She winced at the hand that covered her impostor’s head.

“Sage?”

She stood at attention. “Yes, sir?”

“Don’t apologize to the ancient monster, if you please.” He didn’t sound exasperated, as he usually did at her antics, but rather…relieved.

She scrunched her nose. “But I hit her with a paperweight.”

Fake Her hissed and ducked backward, snarling in the corner.

“Take note,” her boss said, moving swiftly in front of her. “That’s what you look like before you have your cauldron brew in the morning.”

She gripped the back of his arm as the creature hissed and snarled again. With a sour expression, she said, “I should’ve thrown the paperweight atyou.”

A voice came out of the body that was now changing back into what had appeared in the Fortis arena: the unnatural white light that had no face. As reassuring as having Trystan’s arm in her grip was, she still felt her heart pounding erratically in her chest.

“You’re too late—he’s already failed,” the light taunted. “His dark soul is mine. Hand it over or you’ll remain trapped here forever, tormented by great evil.”

Evie curled her lip and nodded earnestly. “That’s a pretty average work week in the office, honestly.”

The boss’s gaze flicked down to her. “Why, thank you,” he deadpanned.

“You’re welcome!” she said with a playful grin.