I fell in love with a villainess

The witch's lair was a throat of stone, carved into the cliffside by centuries of screaming tides. Salt crusted the walls, glinting like frost in the torchlight, and the air reeked of kelp and iron. Evangeline led the way, her boots slipping on wet rock, while Jack braced Oren's weight against his shoulder. The scar on his chest pulsed in time with the crashing waves below, Seraphine's voice a relentless whisper:

"She'll strip you bare. Leave you hollow. Is that what you want?"

"Quiet," Jack muttered, earning a sidelong glance from Evangeline.

At the cave's heart, the witch waited.

She was a creature of barnacles and bone, her skin mapped with tattoos of drowned ships, her hair a nest of fishing net and gull feathers. A conch shell hung from her neck, its interior slick with blood. She did not turn as they entered, her back hunched over a tide pool swirling with bioluminescent algae.

"Maeve," Evangeline said, the name a blade. "We need your ritual."

The witch's laugh bubbled like a drowning man's last breath. "Little Vossaire. Last time, you swore to feed me to your hounds."

"Last time, you poisoned my wine."

Maeve turned, her eyes milky as a corpse's. "And now you beg for my magic. How sweet."

Jack stepped forward, the scar's glow casting gold on the walls. "Can you sever the bond or not?"

Maeve drifted toward him, her nostrils flaring. "Ah. The garden's new pet. It's dug deep, hasn't it?" Her finger grazed his scar, and the thorns beneath his skin twitched. "The ritual requires a trade. A memory for a soul."

Evangeline's jaw tightened. "Mine."

"No—" Jack began, but Maeve interrupted.

"Not just any memory. The one that anchors him to you. The moment you knew you'd burn the world to keep him breathing."

Silence.

Oren coughed, blood speckling his lips. "There's no time. The cult—"

A horn blared outside, echoing off the cliffs.

The cult descended like a storm.

They poured from the mist, their robes stitched with black roses, their faces hidden behind masks of bleached coral. At their helm stood a figure in Liran's likeness—same tousled hair, same boyish smile, same roses blooming from his collar.

Evangeline froze.

"Eva," the figure crooned, Liran's voice polished to a knife's edge. "You left me to rot. Now I'll return the favor."

"It's not him," Jack hissed, gripping her arm.

She shook him off, dagger drawn. "Stay with the witch. Finish the ritual."

"But—"

"Go."

The ritual demanded blood.

Maeve pressed a dagger of whalebone into Evangeline's hand. "Cut your palm. Feed the tide pool. Then drink."

Jack's scar seared as Evangeline sliced her skin, her blood swirling into the algae. The water churned, forming a vortex that whispered of forgotten depths.

"Drink," Maeve urged, "and name the memory you'll trade."

Evangeline lifted the conch shell to her lips.

Jack grabbed her wrist. "Don't. There's another way."

"There isn't." Her eyes softened, a crack in the ice. "You asked what Lira took. It was the day I found you in the solarium, burning toast. The first time I…" She swallowed. "The first time I didn't want to be alone."

He kissed her.

Salt and copper, desperation and defiance. The scar's roots retreated, stunned.

Maeve hissed. "The ritual—!"

Evangeline drank.

The cave shuddered.

Memories tore through Jack—Evangeline's laughter as he botched her coffee, her hand lingering on his after a dance, the way she'd looked at him in the stable loft, unguarded. They frayed like rope, dissolving into the tide pool.

"No!" He plunged his hands into the water, but the memories slithered through his fingers.

Outside, the false Liran laughed. "Poor Eva. Always sacrificing, never saved."

Evangeline staggered, clutching her head. "Jack, I…"

She didn't recognize him.

Maeve grinned. "The bond is severed. The thorns are yours to command, boy."

Power surged through Jack—cold, primordial, hungry. The scar bloomed, thorns erupting from his skin. He roared, and the cave trembled.

The cultists froze as he emerged, a storm of roots and rage. The false Liran stumbled back. "W-what are you?"

Jack smiled. "The garden's reckoning."

Chapter 11 End.