Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

'Just when did he—?'

From head to toe, Nathalie's gaze wavered. She kneaded her forehead when a pang hit her by the head from information overload, remembering how fresh it was moments ago—it was hard to break free when sudden tingles spread throughout her skin.

Her lips parted as though she wanted to utter a few words but tossed the idea with clenched teeth. Taking a glance back at her tea, she stood up, and the chair screeched against the floor with the lowest tone possible.

'I really need to get out of here.'

"Wow, such deep admonishment you have there." He now stood and went close to her, blocking them from moving out of the kitchen.

Athan was so close that his scent was so refreshing, enough to hinder her logical train of thoughts from the raging feelings from within.

But there was no backing down. It was hard to deny how the tension between them was high.

[Your Highness, if you may be so mindful today, allow me to take my leave.]

Athan glanced—downwards, from her face that had a hint of reddish hue of her face, had him beamed a lopsided grin.

"What if I forbid you doing so?"

[I have a lot of things to do, so please.]

"Perhaps you forgot why I brought you here?" Athan mused, tilting his head to the side where Marianne sat with a stern gaze to both of them.

Nathalie sighed as she remembered the contract; now, she had a gist for what happened so recently.

'I guess things are hard for him just as well, but maybe now that the curse was dealt with for the meantime.'

He kept the observation, but he has a keen perception that things aren't getting any better than what he expected; perhaps it was hard to train Marianne and the rest of them.

All she thought was how Athan would handle things from now on, all by himself—when so many people got his back; why her out of them all. 

[Marianne knows what to do. So I don't see the point of—]

Athan gripped her hand, preventing her from writing further.  Upclose, she took a glimpse at the sudden shift of his countenance; he wasn't fooling around anymore with the stern gaze and glinting fang that prodded the moment he let out an inaudible snarl.

She clenched her fist, trying to get away from his clasps, but he was strong enough to stop her.

"You're the only one that can help me, Violette." All of a sudden, he hung his head low, scratching by the nape, as he sighed in defeat. "Just what must I do to make you stay?"

In that instant, Nathalie's heart somewhat had bindings tightened, writhing her in pain when he saw how he was at a loss of hope.

Whatever his agenda was, it was not really in her best interest.

For she needed to survive and eventually changed the narrative of her fate.

"First, let go of me…." Nathalie whispered, which had him let go of her. Giving a glance to her wrist, she noticed the dents with reddish rings that formed without her even feeling the pain—it was at most giving her a touch of numbness when she curled inward.

[I'm not backing down or getting away, we had a contract, after all. Give me time to prepare, and I suppose you can do that much.]

At the moment, Athan ground his jaw, balled his fist, and more than anything, Nathalie knew that he ran out of patience.

She could care less.

"Fine… You should be back before the sun sets."

So much that Nathalie wanted to roll her eyes, she kept a straight face instead. Apparently, there was no point arguing with him the more he got aggravated.

[You don't have to tell me twice.] Nathalie tugged the notch lapels of her trench coat before flipping her periwinkle hair to the back. [I shall take my leave.]

Nathalie stepped to the side, not wanting to crash from her sight with nothing but his revealing, damp chest and a sneak peek of his body behind the bathrobe he had. She took a strut of what she believed to lead to the entrance of Athan's secret abode.

Just several steps away from the door, a jagged, crystalline head—from the obsidian surface had rich, glowing greens by the crevices—popped by the other side of the hallway, sniffing at her body.

'Oh no! There's Nero! I can't let him—'

While at it, being wary of him, Nathalie backed away and ended up crashing her back to Athan's chest.

"Nero, stop that." 

"Hmm, I smell something delicious…" He then moved out of the doorway, his large torso somehow blocked almost half of the path, and his furry tail wagged out of excitement. "I can't believe such a feisty lady would bring such a treat!"

[Out of my way.] 

Soon as her eyes glinted, a wave of frost sprawled around her, with clinking crystals formed with the frightening wind abuzz before them. The walls and the floor had a sheet of ice; both weren't spared as they hissed at the frostbite.

Nero growled; as much as he wanted to pounce on her, Athan was there with a sinister gaze, which made the familiar retreat no choice. 

She peered sideways, seeing how the dews and the ends of the fuzzy robe had shaves of ice, but she was unapologetic to it. 

Her feet slid from the path; the moment she opened the door, the frost thawed. After a loud thud, she leaned to the door, clutching her chest as she was in relief.

'That was close… I got too careless.'

She looked from afar, and the sun was about to reach its peak, and so, she went as far as she could, to the nearby thicket of the forest, looking around, only to find there were no familiars or any of the sort spying on her. 

Though as much as she wanted to use the relocation, it was hard to sense Keith for the matter— the distance was too great, and the mana she had wasn't enough to cater the arduous journey.

The moment she pulled out her phone, she was in deep shock that she also pulled out the magic broom, and from there, she rode and flew off amidst the sky.