Page 59 of Barbi and the Villain

My eyes are wide open now, feeling returning to my limbs. Pain echoes from the back of my head, and something wet sticks to my hair.

“You are ruining all my plans, aren’t you, Barbi?” He muses to himself.

I stare at him unblinking.

His fangs elongate, and bringing his wrist to his mouth, he bites hard into his flesh. I don’t have time to wonder what he means to do for he presses his bloody wrist against my lips. His blood floods my mouth, the taste metallic but oddly sweet.

My body hums in response, and a pleasant calm settles over me.

“Sleep now,” he whispers. “Sleep until I am the only thing you can think about…”

His last words are fuzzy. I don’t know whether he truly spoke them or they are merely a figment of my imagination.

Heat erupts across my chest, concentrated in the area just above my heart.

I thrash against him, a fire building inside of me—one that makes me want to pull the skin off my bones. The pain builds to an unbearable crescendo until I can no longer bear it.

“Damnation!” His thundering voice echoes in the stillness of the forest. Dark, shadowy tendrils surround us, moving wildly around in a primitive dance. They flame in and out of focus, curling around my body and seeping into my flesh.

But I am too weak to react.

I sleep.

11

Astartled gasp flies past my lips as I shoot up straight, panic overtaking me.

It was a nightmare, wasn’t it? I couldn’t have possibly developed a one-sided crush on the Dark One. And I couldn’t have possibly thrown myself at him and offered him my blood so he can go back to being a bad guy and terrorize more people. No, I could have never done that.

To my everlasting disappointment, it was not a nightmare.

A shudder goes down my back as flashbacks inundate my mind.

Gray icy eyes. Sharp cheekbones. Strong jaw. Big, manly hands.

My breathing intensifies.

His name… He said his name was Nykander.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I remember begging him to take me with him, telling him everything I could do to entertain him. God… How could I allow myself to become such a clown?

My ex-boyfriend the Dark One doesn’t like to share.

He doesn’t want these lips to go anywhere near another man.

Meanwhile, the actual Dark One was secretly laughing at me while I made a cake of myself with all those silly proclamations.

Even now, my stomach rebels at the thought. My cheeks burn with shame as I remember all the nonsense I spouted.

I am the reason he wakes up in the morning.

The light to his dark, dark soul…

Those words mock me, echoing in my mind until all I want to do is melt onto the floor and become a tiny dust particle invisible to the naked eye. Only then will I be able to escape the mocking laughter accompanying those thoughts.

“Aghhhhh!” I scream, flailing my arms and legs back and forth. The plushness of the mattress allows for my rather violent and uncivilized outburst. But as I stretch even more and bang my head on the wooden headboard, I’m brought back to reality.

“Ouch,” I murmur as I rub the back of my head, a modicum of calm settling over me.

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