The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 128: Questions Without Answers

ERIS

I woke to cold again.

The pure, unfiltered cold that wrapped around my body like silk, that sank into my skin with the kind of insistence I’d never experienced before, that reminded me with every breath that I was finally, temporarily free from the fire that had been trying to kill me for days.

And a grip that suggested freedom was relative.

Arms locked around my waist. Heavy. Possessive. The kind of hold that made movement impossible without waking the person attached to them. Iron-strong despite belonging to someone currently unconscious.

I couldn’t move.

Could barely breathe properly with how tight he held me. Like even in sleep Soren had decided I might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly, if he gave me any room to slip away, if he allowed physics and personal space to exist between us.

For a moment I just stayed still.

Processing. Assessing. Trying to determine whether this was genuine sleep or another one of his games where he pretended unconsciousness just to see what I’d do, how I’d react, whether I’d try to escape or stay put.

His breathing was steady.

Deep and even. The rhythm of someone genuinely asleep rather than faking it. No tension in his body except for his arms. No subtle shifts that would suggest awareness.

He was actually sleeping.

Just refusing to let go while doing it.

I managed to tilt my head back.

Slowly. Carefully. Just enough to see his face properly for the first time in real light instead of cave-darkness or river-glow.

Gods.

The man was unfairly beautiful.

I’d noticed before. Obviously. You couldn’t spend time around Soren and not notice. But seeing him like this, relaxed and unguarded with early morning light filtering through the waterfall entrance and painting everything in soft blues, seeing him without the calculated control he usually wore like armor...

It was different.

Handsome in ways that made my chest ache. Beautiful in ways that suggested whoever had crafted him had decided to outdo themselves, had looked at the concept of masculine beauty and asked how far they could push it before it stopped looking human and started looking divine.

His features were sharp.

High cheekbones. Strong jaw. Nose that was almost too perfect. Lips that would be cruel if they weren’t currently softened by sleep into something gentler.

And even though I’d never say it out loud. I wanted to kiss them. Kiss him till I’d run out of breath.

"Gods." I whispered against his chest, startled at my own thoughts. The small familiar heat crawled up my spine, reminding me of why I fell asleep in the first place. Because Soren had made a mess of me while forcing me to look at him.

My face exploded in embarrassment. No... I have to focus.

I looked up again, admiring his obnoxiously perfect face.

But exhaustion showed through. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Even in rest. Shadows under his eyes that suggested he didn’t sleep enough, didn’t rest enough, spent too much time carrying weight that would break most people. Lines around his mouth that came from stress rather than age.

Still gorgeous.

Still the kind of face that would make artists weep and sculptors abandon their craft out of inadequacy.

I sighed against his chest.

Felt the breath leave me in a rush that had nothing to do with being held too tight and everything to do with the thoughts crowding my head, the doubts pressing down, the questions I’d been avoiding since the moment I’d accepted his proposal back in Solmire.

Was this the right thing?

Letting myself be swayed by a man like Soren? Getting tangled up in feelings that would only complicate everything when I’d promised myself that this second life would be different, would be simpler, would be about finding peace instead of chasing connections that always ended badly?

I’d thought love was done after Caelen.

Had convinced myself that whatever capacity I’d possessed for that particular emotion had burned away in the first timeline, had died when I’d died, had been left behind in that garden where I’d opened my eyes and realized everything was written and my role was villain and redemption wasn’t part of the script.

I’d wanted to blend into the background.

Spend whatever time I had left existing quietly. No drama. No politics. No men with winter-bright eyes who looked at me like I was something worth saving instead of something that needed destroying.

But Soren.

Gods, Soren was the plot twist I’d never expected.

Had appeared in my carefully laid plans like a storm appearing in clear skies, had proposed marriage with that insufferable smirk, had pulled me onto his lap in Crimson Port like it was the most natural thing in the world, had carried me through wilderness and exhaustion and his own terror just to keep me alive.

Had somehow gotten past every wall I’d built.

The question that haunted me most was simple:

Was it because of me that he changed?

I remembered the first timeline. Vaguely. Details had gone fuzzy over the years between then and now, between dying and waking up and living through everything again with full awareness.

But I remembered enough.

Soren had been different then. Colder. More distant. When it came to romance... His attention had been elsewhere. On Ophelia, specifically. The gentle, kind, perfect heroine who deserved someone like him. Who probably would’ve been good for him in ways I never could be.

They’d kissed once. Or brushed lips...

I couldn’t remember the context. Couldn’t recall whether it had been political or genuine or just part of the story pushing characters together the way stories did. But it had happened. Caelen was unaware but I’d seen it. Had felt something ugly twist in my chest that I’d convinced myself was just possessiveness, just the villain role making me covet things I shouldn’t want.

Now he was acting completely different.

Focused on me. Choosing me. Looking at me like I was the only thing in any room worth noticing.

Why?

Was he evolving the way Orrian had explained? Like the beasts were? Was the world changing to fit the new path I’d taken, rearranging itself around my rebellion, shifting characters and motivations and story beats to accommodate the fact that the villainess had stepped off her predetermined track?

Was Soren breaking the barrier of awareness bit by bit?