Page 172 of Villainous Rise

She was mine. Completely fucking mine.

And I was going to take her again and again, all night long, until neither of us could remember a time when we weren’t joined like this—her body to mine, her surrender to my possession.

CHAPTER 30

ANNIE

I shifted in my seat beside Havoc, wincing slightly.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off the training session below since we’d sat down, which was fine by me. I was worried enough that he’d be a little too observant and ask me why I kept squirming.

Below us, Helios dodged a blast of energy from his sparring partner, a new junior Hero with electric powers.

“Hit him back, for god’s sake,” Havoc muttered, his fingers drumming against the armrest.

I scribbled notes, watching Helios dance around his opponent without ever unleashing his full potential.

Great. After this, Havoc would be in full grumpy-old-Villain mode. Last time that happened, he reorganized the entire trophy room by “aesthetic threat level”, whatever the hell that meant, and made me catalog everything.

My afternoon was definitely going to involve a lot of coffee and possibly hiding in supply closets.

I watched Helios dodge yet another attack, his movements fluid but frustratingly restrained. Why wouldn’t he just let loose? The junior Hero they’d paired him with was Trueborn. The guy could handle getting knocked around a bit. That was the whole point of selecting him.

But there was something else about Helios that caught my attention. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and his signature glow seemed dimmer today.

I’d been checking on him most mornings since he’d been warned about his peers dying, and he’d seemed fine, or at least he’d put on a convincing show of appearing fine. But each time I saw him, a little more exhaustion had crept in around the edges.

“He’s not sleeping,” I murmured.

Havoc grunted. “I doubt any of them are. Not when they don’t know who could be next.”

I bit my lip, watching Helios stumble slightly, something I’d never seen him do before.

I couldn’t blame him for losing sleep. If I were watching people I knew die one by one, I’d probably never close my eyes again.

“Enough!” Havoc’s voice boomed across the training room. “Helios, you’re fighting like you’re afraid to break a nail. This isn’t a dance recital.”

Havoc was just launching into his lecture on “appropriate power application” when the door to the observation room opened with a soft click. Simmons appeared and cleared his throat.

“Sir, Ms. Bishop. Your presence is requested for an immediate meeting.”

I frowned, pulling up the schedule on my tablet. “There’s nothing on here. Who’s calling a meeting?”

“Alliance public relations,” Simmons said, his voice actually reflecting the smallest bit of disdain.

Fantastic.

Havoc’s eyes narrowed, the blue sharpening to ice. “Did they say what this is about?”

“No, sir. They were quite insistent on your immediate attendance. They’re waiting in your office.”

Havoc stood. “Well then, we shouldn’t keep our guests waiting.”

As I followed him, my mind raced through the possibilities of what the meeting could be about. None of them were good.

When we reached Havoc’s office, the door slid open to reveal Martin Allen, head of Alliance PR. Another PR person I didn’t recognize sat next to Allen.

This wasn’t going to be good. Not at all. Had they come to get on to me for not kissing Valor? To reprimand Havoc for not letting the kiss happen and sending me home?