Page 116 of Barbi and the Villain

My lip twitches in annoyance, so I do the only thing a petty person would do. I stick my tongue out at him and look away.

The men propose different items of clothing, and one of them is louder as he says, “Drawers.”

I frown at the unfamiliar term.

Audee smiles. She produces a pair of scissors and she begins working, cutting the plain cloth in record time. She then sews a few corners, plaits another few, and in less than five minutes, she waves around the finished product.

A pair of underwear. Male underwear.

Whistles and applauses resound from the audience. The man who’d suggested the item nods appreciatively and gives her a nod of acknowledgment. Audee blushes.

“Well done, Audee. Please return to your place. The next one is Flin.”

Audee takes her place back in the line and Flin comes froward, the first in the men’s line.

I watch curiously to see what he will come up with.

But just as he rips his shirt from his body to reveal his nicely sculpted muscles, a growl slithers past my ears.

I blink, looking around.

Shrugging, I glance back at Flin, who is now showing off his strength by cutting a block of wood with one strike—half-naked. His performance has the intended effect as the girls in front of me nearly swoon. They talk amongst themselves and praise his looks and strength and deem him the protective type—whatever that is.

Yet I don’t get to enjoy the show as every time my gaze lands on his marbled abs, a warning sound blares in my ears. My brows bunch in a frown, turning around to search for the source of the sound, but nothing catches my eye.

What the…

Flin ends his routine and from the girls’ side, Loraine is next.

She demonstrates her prowess with a blowing musical instrument, and the men all give her nods of approval.

All but Nykander, who is not even looking at her.

No, he’s holding his arms crossed over his body as he glares at me as if I’d done something wrong when he’s the asshat in this situation.

My nostrils flare. I narrow my eyes at him and barely refrain from giving him the finger. He wouldn’t even know what it means.

The trial continues as the men show off their manly skills while the women focus on their feminine assets—not that there’s anything wrong with it. But as I notice a theme arising, I wonder if my idea will work. If I were to lose this contest from the first trial, I doubt I will ever live it down. Nykander will forever mock me for it.

Nykander’s turn comes before mine.

He leisurely moves to the center. He’s sporting a bored look as he gazes around lazily until his eyes find mine. He doesn’t even put in the effort as he allows his black tendrils to slither in the air, a halo of dark mist forming around his body.

His tendrils reach for the wood left behind by Flin, enveloping it in his darkness before turning it into dust.

A chorus of cheers erupts, and for some reason, the girls seem to find that utterly charming. They swoon and praise and make gooey eyes at him.

“He is the most handsome male I have ever laid eyes on,” the girl in front of me says—the same one who was singing his praises this morning.

I scoff under my breath.

“He’s also rotten to the core.”

She turns to glare at me.

“You are just bitter that he dropped you,” she sneers at me. “But do not worry. I will be happy to replace you.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

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