The Villainess Winning Back Her Beast Husbands-Chapter 47: There’s Such a Good Thing??

After the chicken finished roasting, she extinguished the fire. Evangeline washed the grease from her hands and walked toward Rhys Finch.

She keenly noticed the way Rhys Finch’s back instantly tensed. A faint smile touched her lips as her fingertips lightly rested on his shoulder. "Don’t be nervous," she said softly. "You can just sit. I’ll unwrap it for you."

Rhys Finch’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his jawline tightening. "What would I be nervous about?"

That’s what he said, but his voice was a fraction hoarser than usual.

Evangeline didn’t call him out on it. She reached out and began to unwind the gauze from his face, layer by layer, her movements exceedingly gentle.

A moment later, the bloodstained gauze drifted lightly to the ground.

Evangeline’s fingertips hovered in mid-air. She was momentarily stunned as she gazed at the face suddenly revealed in the light.

It was an almost ethereally beautiful face, resplendent to the point of seeming unreal. His long, narrow fox-like eyes were gorgeous and bewitching, the corners upturned in a seductive curve. And yet, his amber irises, reflecting his waist-length silver hair, seemed exceptionally cold and languid. He had a high-bridged nose and lips shaped like a perfect diamond. He was so beautiful it felt profane to even think of sullying him.

She suddenly understood why the body’s previous owner had been driven so mad as to want to peel off his face—a face like this could truly inspire the wicked desire to possess it forever.

Evangeline pulled her hand back, clicked her tongue, and met Rhys Finch’s wary eyes. "All done."

A flicker of emotion crossed Rhys Finch’s eyes. He rose hesitantly and walked toward his "old friend." The water’s surface rippled, reflecting a face that was both familiar and strange. The ghoulish visage that had once haunted his nightmares was gone.

His pupils constricted. His knuckles, pressed against the edge of the wooden basin, turned white.

’How many years has it been...? I’d almost forgotten what I used to look like.’

Evangeline waited for a good while. She knew this was a deeply emotional moment for Rhys Finch, but she was also in a hurry. Clearing her throat, she said, "How about you give me the Beast Crystal first, then you can go back to looking?"

Her words snapped Rhys Finch back to his senses.

He turned to look at Evangeline. With his beauty restored, he was flawless from head to toe, so captivating that one wouldn’t dare to look at him directly for fear of being bewitched.

Rhys Finch’s lips curled. "Thanks. You know where the Beast Crystal is. Take it."

Evangeline nodded. With slightly trembling hands, she retrieved the Beast Crystal as it flickered with lightning. Only after she had stored it safely did the heart lodged in her throat finally settle. ’This really feels like progress after eighty-one trials.’

She let out a long sigh of relief, her tense shoulders finally relaxing.

When she turned her head, her gaze met Rhys Finch, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

With his features unobscured, his expression was finally discernible. Only then did Evangeline notice that he had a habit of tilting his head slightly when looking at someone, and that a tiny vermilion mole was hidden just under the corner of his right eye.

Evangeline looked away. "When is the High Priest coming?"

Rhys Finch chuckled, a strange note in his voice. "You have the Beast Crystal now. You’re not planning to leave?"

Evangeline laughed dryly. "I’m your friend now, aren’t I? It’s awfully rude to kick a friend out."

Rhys Finch gave a casual shrug, a barely-there smile playing on his lips. "You misunderstand."

His fingertips tapped lightly on his bicep as he spoke with unhurried ease. "I’m simply curious... how exactly do you plan on leaving this place?"

As he spoke, the mole under his eye seemed to gleam bewitchingly. He leaned closer, his voice laced with that familiar, lingering sorrow. "After all... every Fallen Beast exiled here is desperate to tear the exit to shreds."

His voice deepened slightly on the last sentence.

Then, he closed the distance in a single step. His well-defined fingers threaded through Evangeline’s, lacing their hands together. Wisps of black light coiled around their clasped hands like a chain, binding them securely.

Rhys Finch glanced down at their intertwined hands, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he let out a low chuckle. "Now, you have to take me with you."

Evangeline felt the warmth in her palm and looked up at the divinely handsome face before her. She blinked. ’Wait, is it really this easy?’

’I’d just been wondering how to broach the subject with Rhys Finch, and he’d served himself up on a silver platter!’

’And using such an intimate method, too. I love it!’

Evangeline was silent for a long time, her breathing nearly inaudible, as she simply stared at him.

The smile on Rhys Finch’s lips slowly froze. His long, fox-like eyes narrowed dangerously. "Scared speechless?"

Evangeline stared right at him and asked curiously, "Are you that certain I have a way out of Thorncliff?"

"I didn’t believe it before, but now, I have to." Rhys Finch’s voice was gentle as he smiled at Evangeline, but his gaze was bone-chillingly cold. As his lips curled, his snow-white fangs were faintly visible.

Evangeline suddenly let out a low laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkling into an unreadable expression.

Her gaze slowly traveled upward, settling on the center of Rhys Finch’s forehead. There, an intricate Eight-star pattern glowed with a strange, dark light. It was the brand that embodied the power of a Fallen Beastman, and it was also proof of the Beast God’s curse.

Rhys Finch’s expression darkened. Just as he was about to scold her, he heard Evangeline ask, "Rhys Finch, do you want to have a cub?"

Her main duty was to bear an heir for the male leads who were destined to be childless. Rhys Finch’s situation was different from the others; even as a Fallen Beastman, he could still shift between his human and beast forms, meaning he was capable of siring a cub.

"Have a cub?" Rhys Finch paused, looking Evangeline up and down before scoffing. "With you?"

Evangeline raised an eyebrow and shot back, "What’s the matter? I’m a Witch! Having a cub with me would be to your benefit. Who knows? Maybe if it neutralizes your blood with my bloodline as the Beast God’s Envoy, the cub won’t be born a Fallen Beastman?"

As she spoke, she suddenly raised a hand, her fingertip lightly tracing the hideous scar on the side of Rhys Finch’s neck.

Beneath his suddenly sinister gaze, she unhurriedly pressed the pad of her finger against the scar, feeling the vein throbbing beneath it. "You scraped off your Contract Mark," she murmured. "You must have hated your female to the bone, hmm?"

Rhys Finch’s breathing grew ragged, and his amber eyes turned bloodshot as if he were suppressing some powerful emotion.

Just then, Evangeline leaned close to his ear, her warm breath caressing his skin with a bewitching allure. "Do you know the best way to get revenge on the female who betrayed you?" she whispered. "It’s—"

Her finger slid from the scar down to his chest, and over the sound of his hammering heart, she whispered:

"—to let her see you with another female, with your own cub. When she realizes that you would rather scrape off your Contract Mark to be with someone else than even spare her a second glance... now, wouldn’t that be a thrilling scene to watch?"

Rhys Finch’s eyes were completely crimson, their depths swirling with a dark, sinister light.

Evangeline’s lips curved. "What do you say? Want to have a cub with me?"

Rhys Finch’s throat worked violently, feeling raw and tight. Though he knew in his bones that a male who betrayed his female was despicable, her every whispered temptation still managed to sway him.

’I’m going to kill her, eventually. When I do, things will get messy. I should leave a bloodline behind.’

’Just as Flora said, she’s a Witch. Maybe the cub she bears wouldn’t be a Fallen Beastman?’

At that thought, Rhys Finch let out a low chuckle. The turbulent emotions swirling in his eyes vanished, replaced by a bottomless darkness.

His long fingers gripped Evangeline’s chin, the pressure just right. He leaned in so close their noses almost touched, their mingling breaths hot and searing. His gaze was dark and obscure. "Can you... take good care of my cub?"

The question was spoken lightly, but it carried immense weight—it was both a test and his final bottom line.

Evangeline met his gaze directly and replied, her pace unhurried, "Wouldn’t it be my cub, too?"