Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant to the Villain, #3)

by Hannah Nicole Maehrer

And finally, and certainly most enjoyable, was watching his best friend—The Villain—a man who Alexander had never thought would open up his cold, closed off-heart, fall truly, deeply, and wildly in love with Evie Sage.

Or, as Alexander had begun referring to their silent avoidance of each other—torture for the masses.

Lyssa Sage was a constant delight, as were all children who’d yet to be touched by the horrors of adulthood. And the depravation of common sense.

Because while Sage was on the other end of the wide office space—and though he had to strain to accomplish it—he could still hear her humming. He couldn’t close the door…and risk missing it. Even if the sound ravaged as much as it healed.

Don’t torment the boss, Evie! Unless you think of a super fun way to do it! “You’re a menace,” he growled. She smiled demurely as she dipped into a small curtsy. “How kind of you to notice.”

“Because on the off chance there is a spirit haunting my kitchen, I hardly want you to be its first impression of the living. You’ll scare it.”

When a childhood was ruled by the patterns of others, that child learned as an adult to heed them.

She was physically weaker than him, it was true, but Evie’s best method of attack was talking her victims through an endless circle of torture. She’d yet to kill anyone that way, but by the gods, she’d wager she had been very close on a handful of occasions.

“I’d never. Even if all the magic in the land seeped from the ink on my skin and yours. If you’re hurt or in danger, I will find you. I swear it.”

Evie is right—it’s okay to be scared—but it’s not okay to allow my fears to become something that can hurt someone else, and did hurt someone else, for that matter. Fears are things for me to manage, and no one else can be blamed but myself.

“Ironic, little tornado. You’re the one who taught me all words go together if you’ve the proper imagination.”

“I love you, Trystan, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I do understand that men derive enjoyment from interrupting women mid-sentence, so I’d hate to be a spoilsport, but could you all unkindly shut your traps so I may continue?”

“I’m so angry sometimes, I look at you and I want to break things. I’m so angry you left. I know you’ve suffered, and I’m sorry for that, but I am your daughter, and I suffered, too.”

“My girlhood was stolen from me.” She couldn’t believe she was admitting this, that she was brave enough to look her mother in the eyes and say, “And though you were not the thief, you did not do anything to stop it from happening. So…I need time.”

“My goal is never maturity. I’m not that jaded yet.”

Becky was plagued with an annoying level of tender feelings of friendship for the human cannonball.

The unfair smallness of her stature would likely be nothing against this man’s obvious strength; he was bigger than her and therefore a threat. And right there was the injustice of the world laid out in the plainest terms.

“Fascinating. It appears you two have something of a special language.” “Yes,” Trystan said dryly. “It’s called irritation.”

It reminded Gideon that the world should always be wary of a king who boasts and instead pay attention to the misfits and outcasts. They usually had far more important things to say yet far less opportunity to say them.

“Because the thought of seeing you every day made me feel something other than angry. And I had forgotten what that was like.”

The greatest power was bestowed to those who were brave enough to feel emotion and to do so thoroughly.

“Until then, you take the couch. I’ll take the bed, and you can come find me when you choose all of me.”

“Oh, of course. Mediocre men receiving positions of power they haven’t earned because of their birthrights. How against the grain.” “That sounded sarcastic.”

“And I don’t think the kingdom agrees; I think it’s just how it’s always been. You’d be surprised how easy it is for some to ignore the problems of the world if they aren’t impacted by them.”

As a child, she had been taught that it was the villains who made that choice, but now she realized it was actually the boastful kings and lords—the ones who accepted love but not responsibility.

“I’m not doing this because of what they’d do. I’m doing it because it’s what I do.”

It just seems to me that someone who feels their feelings out in the open is braver than someone who hides them.”