I fell in love with a villainess

The cellar air thickened with the metallic tang of blood and ammonia. Jack's scar screamed, its melody a war drum in his skull. The lieutenant cracked his barbed whip, the sound splitting the damp silence.

"Last words, ghost?" The man smirked, circling Jack like a wolf around wounded prey.

Oren's voice rasped from the cage. "Jack—don't let it use you—"

"Silence him," Seraphine crooned. "Show them what we are."

Jack's vision bled crimson.

He moved without thought.

The whip lashed toward his throat, but he caught it mid-air, thorns biting into his palm. The lieutenant's eyes widened as Jack yanked him forward, the scar on his chest flaring gold.

"You shouldn't have touched him," Jack said, his voice layered with a thousand whispers.

The lieutenant swung a dagger. Jack sidestepped, the blade grazing his ribs, and drove his fist into the man's sternum. Bones cracked. The scar's roots surged through Jack's veins, twisting his hand into a claw of thorns. He plunged it into the lieutenant's chest.

The man gurgled, blood frothing at his lips. "M-monster—"

"Yes," Seraphine sighed.

Jack tore out his heart.

Oren stared, slack-jawed, as the lieutenant's body crumpled. Jack stood over him, thorns retracting, his hand dripping. The scar's song faded to a satisfied hum.

"Jack." Oren's voice trembled. "Your eyes…"

A shard of glass on the floor reflected them back—pupils swallowed by gold, irises blooming with thorned fractals.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Seraphine murmured. "Power suits you."

Jack stumbled back, clutching his head. "Get out of my mind."

"We're past that, vessel."

The cellar door burst open. Evangeline stood silhouetted in the stairwell, her gown splattered with wine and blood. Her gaze flicked from the corpse to Jack's stained hands.

"What did you do?"

He couldn't answer. The scar purred, "What you couldn't."

The ballroom was chaos.

Guests fled, trampling each other as Veyra's guards clashed with Evangeline's assassins. Jack followed her through the carnage, Oren leaning on his shoulder. Every drop of blood on the marble called to the scar, every scream a note in its symphony.

Evangeline cornered Veyra on the dais, her dagger at his throat. "Where is Seraphine's cult?"

The senator laughed, unhinged. "You think I serve the thorns? They're a means, girl. A tool to carve out your rotten heart."

She pressed the blade deeper. "Liar."

"See for yourself." He jerked his chin toward a tapestry behind them—a rose stitched with human hair. Jack's scar burned.

He touched the fabric. It disintegrated, revealing a hidden alcove. Inside, a black altar pulsed with Rosa Noctis, their petals inscribed with runes. At its base lay a child's doll—charred, missing an eye.

Evangeline froze. "That's… impossible."

Liran's doll.

Veyra grinned. "Your brother's remains fed the first bloom. Seraphine's been with you all along."

The thorns erupted.

They burst from the altar, snatching Veyra into the air. His screams choked as roots crammed down his throat, bloating him until his skin split. The roses drank, petals swelling blacker than void.

Evangeline grabbed Jack's arm. "Run. Now."

They fled as the manor collapsed, Seraphine's laughter chasing them into the night.

In the woods, Evangeline shoved Jack against a tree. Moonlight carved her face into a mask of fury and fear. "You let it in. You used them."

He winced. "I saved Oren."

"At what cost?" She ripped open his shirt, revealing the scar—now larger, its petals edged in fresh gold. "It's growing. Soon, there'll be nothing left of you."

He caught her wrist. "You think I don't know that?"

Her breath hitched. For the first time, Jack saw it—the terror beneath her rage. Not of him, but for him.

Oren limped into the clearing, clutching his ribs. "We need to move. The cult will track us."

Evangeline stepped back, her walls slamming into place. "To the coast. There's a witch there—one who binds souls."

Jack's scar writhed. "She'll cage us."

He nodded anyway.

At dawn, they found the witch's mark carved into a seaside cliff—a rose within a serpent's jaws. Waves roared below, spraying salt onto Jack's fevered skin.

Evangeline gripped his hand, her glove discarded, her touch calloused and warm. "Ready?"

"Don't trust her," Seraphine warned.

He interlaced their fingers. "Always."

Chapter 10 End.