Page 20 of Adversary to the Villain

Rocking back on his heels, Trystan traded his confusion for more amusement. What fun, sending her over the proverbial edge. “Tell me, Sage. Have you utilized a wishing well before?”

She blinked, wide-eyed, her demeanor taking on a lost look that made him want to shove her beneath his cloak and protect her from the world. “Of course I have. But surely that’s not why you brought me here.”

“I brought you here because you need a place to practice using your magic.” He parted the long branches of the weeping willow he himself had found years ago, moving them aside for her to pass through first. “A place where you need not be afraid of hurting anyone or anything.”

“And what? I wish into the well for that to be true?” she asked, staring at the coin he’d given her, disgruntled.

“Oh no. I thought you might use that coin to wish your magic away, actually,” he suggested with dry humor, trying—very poorly—to lighten the mood. Her lovely face twisted at the suggestion, though in a moment, hopefully she’d see reason and—

The coin smacked him in the head. Hard.

“You made me walk for two hours to use reverse logic on me?” she chastised him and folded her arms. “You couldn’t have done this at the manor?”

He bent to pick up the coin in one fluid motion, his fingertips brushing her palm when he dropped the cool coin against her skin. “No. I couldn’t have.” He said softly, “This well is special. Throw it in. I promise you’ll be happy you did.”

Sage was curious by nature. So it didn’t surprise him when she leaned over the edge and lifted a brow. “I won’t make a wish.”

He smirked. “It’s just a well. It doesn’t grant wishes.”

She did anyway, he could tell by the scrunch of her nose when she flicked the coin off her finger, until a tiny plop splashed below—and the willow tree began to sing.

A lovely chiming resounded around them, cocooned in the leaves and branches that were now sprouting every manner of flower. The floral smells filled the air, giving them nothing but pleasantness and colors.

He’d loved this place in his early days with the dark magic. Edwin had recommended it, knowing how out of control Trystan felt with it, how other he was. Sage’s eyes widened, a small gasp leaving her lips as she turned in every direction to take in the shield of loveliness that surrounded them. “How?”

“The well, when given an offering, emits pure magic. Only within its confines, but when I felt out of control those first few weeks, I came here often. Listen.”

She was still distracted by the roses sprouting around the moss covering the well. “To what?”

He came up behind her carefully, placing a gentle hand on her hip, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “For your magic. It’s quieter here but still present.”

She shivered, and he swallowed, attempting to push forward. “You’re safe to use it here. I promise you. Try.”

She turned slowly, eyes still closed, and he moved back to give her space.

The magic, however, had other plans.

The mist shot from her fingers, wrapping around him and lifting him up, gripping him and dragging him forward until they were inches apart. Her mouth was open, her eyes alarmed and surprised.

Guilt prickled at him. He shouldn’t have pushed her.

“Evie…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

The magic surrounded them, shoving him from behind, and he stumbled forward but caught himself—and Sage.

When she leaped into his arms.

Kissing him.

Chapter 9

Evie

A girl could only take so much.

All the times she’d teased him. All the times she’d tried to destroy his carefully crafted composure.

When Evie’s composure was decidedlynotcarefully crafted.