Page 92 of Once A Villain

We collapse onto the bed, the reality of being back at Axe’s house sinking in.

“Spill,” Kyla commands, her gaze drilling into mine.

I groan and cover my face with my hands.

“This is a disaster, Ky,” I say, muffled by my palms. “Everything was fine until Spencer showed up after rehearsal and dragged me away...” I dive into the whole mess, her eyes widening with every revelation. I skip over the details of the masked man, of course.

“Holy shit, Rory. That’s fucking insane.”

“I’m just glad to be back, even though I’m a prisoner again.” She unexpectedly lifts my dress and looks at the brand.

“I don’t know…but I think it’s kind of hot.”

“Kyla.” I laugh, swatting her hand away and tugging my dress back down. “Seriously?”

“I’m not kidding!” she insists. “You’re his little sex slave. It’s sexy as hell.”

I roll my eyes at her absurdity. “We’re Servants; we’re already sex-slaves. And It’s not hot, it’s degrading. And it hurt like hell.”

She shrugs, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

I dodge her relentless questions about my sex life with Axe, steering the conversation away before she can dig any deeper.

She fills me in on the latest Servant drama. Of course, there’s never a dull moment in this world. Olivia is spreading rumors, flirting with married Sovereigns—just like her sister, causing chaos wherever she goes.

The conversation shifts to the Red Arena, the event everyone’s buzzing about. It’s a bloody display of Sovereigns fighting for their new rank. But for me, it’s the performances that matter. As the lead Siren, I’ll be front and center during the opening ceremony.

Kyla leaves for dinner, and I decide to shower first. Drinking too much for too many days has left me hungover and dehydrated—not my brightest decision. But a girl’s got to cope, right?

Steam swirls in the bathroom, the hot water loosening the tension in my muscles. The door creaks open. I don’t need to look—I can feel him.

My pulse quickens, breath catching as I slowly turn. The heat of the water does nothing to chase away the icy chill spreading through me.

His gaze burns with raw desire, pulling at something deep inside me. My body betrays me, craving his touch, aching with a need I can’t deny.

I want him.

I hate him.

But the ache is relentless.

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to resist, but it’s useless. The hunger doesn’t care.

He undresses slowly, every deliberate movement showing off his sculpted body, muscles taut under smooth skin. My eyes track him, unable to look away as he steps into the shower.

Closing the distance, his fingers trace over my collarbone, light and teasing, sending shivers through me. His heat presses against me, making the ache worse.

He grips my wet hair, yanking my head back as my breath catches. His lips blaze a trail down my neck, his tongue following in slow, deliberate strokes. His kisses burn, his teeth grazing my skin, igniting a fire I can’t extinguish.

“Did you miss me, little siren?”

“No,” I whisper, the word trembling on my lips, but it feels like a lie. I didn’t miss him—just his touch. Just the way his body feels against mine, his lips, his hands. I didn’t miss him. Right?

“That’s unfortunate,” he murmurs, his grip tightening on my hair. “Because I missed you.” The same words he had told me the last time he was away, the smirk clear in his voice. His hand slides to my face, his thumb brushing over my lips.

I open my mouth, taking his finger between my lips, sucking softly. His eyes darken, his body pressing harder against mine.

“Such a good girl,” he groans, voice thick with heat, his gaze never leaving mine.

---