Page 233 of Barbi and the Villain

“Everything,” I whisper. “I saw everything… You’ve been using me all along, pretending to care about me when in fact…” I trail off as a sob racks my body. “My God, but you had me fooled. You had me wholly and utterly fooled. How you must have laughed at me,” I add bitterly.

His cheek twitches. He stands up, unabashed about his nudity as he walks casually toward me.

“You were not supposed to find out like this.” He sighs.

“No? And how was I supposed to find out? When my soul left my body so that your beloved can replace me? When my entire essence gets destroyed so your darling Mo can claim my body? When, Nykander? When?” I shout, the windows of the lighthouse shattering at my anger.

His lips flatten in annoyance–the only genuine emotion he appears to be capable of when it comes to me.

“Calm down, Barbi and we will discuss it. You likely only saw snippets out of context,” he says.

“Oh, what was out of context? The fact that you caused the plague? Or that Damien was your thrall? Tell me, when he attacked the Sanctuary, it wasn’t your brother controlling him, was it? It was you.”

His silence speaks a thousand words.

I let out a dry laugh. Cracks slowly form around my heart, and with every second, I’m closer than ever to my breaking point.

“You killed millions of people. Millions.”

“I did what I had to do,” he grits out. “You have no idea what I have been through or the sacrifices I have had to make.”

“Right. Go ahead and justify mass murder,” I spit out.

He shrugs. And that tells me everything there is to know about him.

He is a monster.

“At least tell me something. When did you decide to use me in your plan?

His eyes glint dangerously. He takes another step forward.

I move back, stepping on broken glass that cuts into the soles of my feet just as the truth cuts into my heart.

“You are hurting yourself,” he mentions, his tendrils seeping out of his body and moving wildly around, ready to strike. “Let us talk about this calmly.”

“When, Nykander?” I demand again.

He tilts his head to the side.

I can’t stop comparing the Nykander in front of me to the one I used to know. They are both equally beautiful, but where one was warm, the other is…horrifyingly cold. There is no empathy in his gaze, no compassion. There is only a cold, calculative look that chills me to my core.

He is…frightening in his indifference.

“When you arrived in Kiya,” he answers. “You were supposed to lead me and my army of demons to Anthropa, but as it happened, I got lucky.” He lets out a dry laugh.

“W-what?” I blink.

He takes another step forward.

“Why do you think I needed all those souls, Barbi?” He raises a brow. “They were not for me, nor were they to feed my legion of thralls, though they certainly got their due. A soul is the purest energy in the universe. And with enough of them, I would have been able to craft a new body for Mo. But as it happens, you fell into my lap and made my job so much easier,” he smirks.

“But how… How could you have known what I was? How could you…”

He throws back his head and laughs.

“You are so awfully ignorant, sweetheart,” he drawls.

“Don’t call me that,” I snap.

---