Page 120 of Barbi and the Villain

Yes. And because it’s the bond, which is instinctual, I must use my brain to combat it. Which is where my pettiness comes into play. I will win this competition and I will show Nykander who the silly little girl is.

But while the girls are chatting merrily on the subject of the men’s underwear, it dawns on me that the men must be doing the same over our panties.

Oh my God!

My cheeks flame up.

I only put on those panties today, so I doubt there is much to smell, but still. Even when my parents threatened to cut me off and I briefly considered resorting to selling my used underwear or feet pics to feed my book addiction, I realized I could not do it. Not because I have anything against those who do, but because I couldn’t imagine anyone getting aroused at my stuff without my express permission—and presence. But now it’s happening. And like a fool, I allowed it to happen because I am the queen of pettiness who would rather put up with that to continue in this cursed competition.

I’m suddenly startled out of my thoughts when the time is up.

The girls have piled up the pairs they are voting out, and Greta comes to take them with her. We are instructed to follow her back to the location of the bonfire where the men are also back in their line.

“Welcome back!” Elijah intones. “You have decided which people to eliminate for this round. I will now call them out,” he says before he proceeds to recite a few names.

The girls whimper when they hear theirs, and I am entirely surprised that I do not hear mine.

So I’m still here.

And Nykander is still here, too, judging by the fact that his name doesn’t get called.

I give him a deadly glare.

He returns it with a wicked smile that’s half grin, half smirk, which infuriates me further.

You panty-smelling pervert!

I don’t know whether I’m more mad at the fact that the girls smelled his underwear, or that he smelled the girls’ panties. Never mind, I should be angry that someone else smelled my underwear.

Ugh! Such a dilemma.

Maybe I should be mad at all instances equally.

“Congratulations, everyone. We can now move to the third trial. After smell, the second sense we will entertain tonight will be sight.”

Entertain… That is an odd way of putting it. I wonder who came up with these tests because they’re all a bit wonky if you ask me.

“For the trial of sight, you will all be required to shed all your clothing. As before, three males and three females will be voted out via the consensus of the opposite party. The goal is to ensure that the remaining contestants find each other’s form pleasing, which will ultimately culminate in the fourth trial, that of touch. You have ten minutes to deliberate.”

I frown. I did not understand anything of what he said except that I need to undress.

Hell no!

I stare around, noticing that both the men and the women are already pulling at their clothes. Panic swells inside of me.

I’ve never been naked in front of anyone before! I would never want the first time I do it to be in front of tens of strangers.

My voice is trapped in my throat as my limbs tremble with fear.

What the hell is with these trials? These people are fucking perverts! First the sniffing of underwear and now the nakey-nakey stuff? No, thank you. My wide eyes crash with Nykander’s icy ones.

The men’s shirts are flying, but he doesn’t move a muscle. And before I can blink, he teleports in front of me.

His dark mist emanates from his body, solidifying and surrounding us in an opaque cocoon, away from everyone else’s gaze.

I slowly look up.

He is…pissed.

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