CHAPTER 138: VILLAINOUS ME

"Sure..." Ednar said with narrowed eyes, then he looked at Hellen.

"Who is he, Lena?" he asked, and she could sense it immediately—suspicion.

"Calm down, Ed. He’s the one who saved me from the bandits," she said, reaching up to hold his cheeks with practiced tenderness, her fingers tracing the familiar lines of his jaw. "So don’t overthink it. Or don’t you even trust me anymore?" She let her voice carry just the right note of wounded disappointment, watching as the words hit their mark.

The young man bit his lip, guilt immediately replacing suspicion in his expression. "Alright, I’m sorry. I just don’t like other men being this close to you," he admitted, his gaze darting between her and Riley. The obvious lack of personal space between them gnawed at him, and his danger senses were screaming warnings he couldn’t ignore. With this stranger being so unnaturally good-looking, Ednar felt that if he left things as they were, something bad would happen sooner rather than later.

"Eh?" Hellen raised an eyebrow at his possessiveness, but then shook her head with an indulgent smile. Yes, this was the young man she loved, though he could be suffocatingly protective most of the time. One thing was certain—he was completely devoted to her and would do anything to make her happy. He was crazy about her. This was the man she was willing to bind her soul with for eternity... not the bastard with that deceptively ’innocent’ smile standing beside her.

Sigh, yes, I have to clear my head. What was I even thinking? She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on what truly mattered. She couldn’t let some mysterious idiot who appeared from god knows where mess up a relationship they had carefully fostered for such a long time. She had to be strong, had to endure until she was able to break this stupid curse she had so foolishly placed on herself in a moment of desperation.

"I know," she smiled sweetly, letting her natural charm wash over him, "but you do trust me right?"

He sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders as he nodded reluctantly. "You’re right. I’m sorry for being paranoid."

"Now that we’ve settled that, have you had anything to eat today?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

He frowned, "Now that you mention it, no." The admission came with a sheepish smile that reminded her why she’d fallen for him in the first place.

She laughed, the sound genuine and warm. ’Always forgetting to take care of yourself when it comes to me.’ she thought. It was both endearing and exasperating, this complete devotion that made him neglect his own basic needs.

"Fine, let’s go then." She turned toward Riley, "Riley, stay here. I want some alone time with my Ed." After all, he was the one who had decided to play the role of servant while in front of others—why shouldn’t she exploit that convenient arrangement to her advantage?

"Yes, my lady," he said with a small smile, and she almost frowned at his response.

Was he... happy she was leaving? Had this been what he wanted all along—to be rid of her company?

At this point, she could no longer understand the workings of this psychopath’s mind.

"...Okay then." She said the words carefully, studying his face for any crack in that infuriating mask of calm indifference.

She walked toward the door with Ednar, who immediately moved to open it for her with the gallant gesture she’d grown accustomed to. But the moment she had walked a considerable distance down the corridor, far enough that their voices wouldn’t carry, Ednar who still held the door, spoke.

"Stay away from her," he whispered with deadly seriousness, his voice low and threatening as he glared at Riley, "or I will kill you." The words carried the weight of absolute conviction, and with that promise, he closed the door firmly and walked away with Hellen.

Inside the room, Riley remained motionless for a long moment.

"...Hmm," he hummed with unnatural calm, the sound barely disturbing the silence. Then he turned slowly, walking toward the bed where he lay down and closed his eyes, though sleep was the furthest thing from his mind.

As much as he had wanted to tease Hellen in that moment—to see her carefully constructed composure crack, to watch Ednar’s irritation boil over into something more dangerous—he had held back. The restraint had taken more effort than it should have.

It wasn’t because he was cautious about grabbing the young man’s attention or feared any consequences from his threats. No, rather it was because of this strange... influence—whatever it was—that had been steadily corrupting his thoughts.

At the moment when his gaze had fallen on Ednar, there had been this intrusive thought that spiked through his mind: What if he took this girl right now, right in front of her precious lover? The image had been vivid, immediate, and disturbingly appealing.

This was not a thought he would have entertained on any normal day. However, even though he found himself darkly excited by the prospect—for reasons he couldn’t fully understand—he had decided to ignore the impulse and instead focus on understanding what was really happening to him. Where were all these twisted desires coming from, and why were they growing stronger with each passing day?

This was not the first time extremely dark thoughts had tried to consume him whole. The three days he had spent with Hellen in that hotel had been proof enough of his deteriorating mental state.

Something was happening to him, something insidious that was trying to fundamentally change who he was—or perhaps revealing who he truly was beneath all his carefully constructed restraints. It wanted to make him embrace the worst aspects of himself.

Is it the bond? The connection he shared with Hellen seemed the most likely culprit, but the mechanism remained frustratingly unclear. Why was it trying to influence him so negatively? Or was it possible that something which had been helping him hold back this sinister part of himself was now gone—perhaps traded away or sacrificed during the soul-binding process?

If that was indeed the case, then it seemed he had a problem on his hands. A very big problem that was only going to get worse with time.

"But..." he muttered to the empty room, and slowly a grin began to spread across his face, "lover or not... would she really let you kill me, knowing fully well what that would mean for her?"

He tilted his head toward the window, where late afternoon sunlight streamed through the glass, casting long shadows across the floor. "I wonder."