Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Meanwhile, Keith still believed in Mystique's capabilities, as one of the strongest witches that dwelled in the lands, she would still be able to get out of the situation rather easily.  Even now that she had to cut her ties with the affinity of nature, she could still rely on her life force, in which he was there for her once every month.

But she never retaliated as much as he would've expected as of now.

His head throbbed so much, akin to a cluster of bombs banging for quite some time now, and his body heated up from the crazy emotions that bottled up in him.

Both of them were in front of the mirror, and he had a devious gaze enough to pierce right through her.

Through the dagger, Keith prodded close to Mystique's slender neck, across her fair skin bloomed a trail of blood that coursed through its edge up to the hilt, drop by drop.

"What did you mean—who am I—? What impudence—!"

Although she managed to break free from her hands behind, he had a faster reaction.

Now, her hands grabbed onto his other forearm, which grappled around her neck as well, pulling out as she squirmed. He cocked his head to the side, clicking his tongue when he didn't want to go through this way, but she still retaliated.

At the moment, she had a hard time breathing from such constriction—as much as it still pained him to do so—he needed to force her to speak out the truth.

Her nails dug into his skin, but he remained with his firm stature.

"I—can't—" Mystique gasped. 

Keith almost let go of her hold when her sultry voice mused his ears, but he bit his lip; with a rusty metallic taste, he scrunched his face to remain focused.

"I shall say it again, who are you?" His grip got tighter, and he somehow noticed her body trembled despite her utter silence.

The blood continued to trickle often, now plopping onto the polished ceramic floor, smearing with its rich crimson shade.

Even doing all this, his heart began to waver the moment she began to struggle from his clasps, but at the same time, it pissed him off when he couldn't get the answer that he wanted right away.

Instead of being so lenient, he ended up roaring, almost rumbling every piece of furniture therein. "You shall tell me nothing but the truth! Who was this Miss Quin—?!"

Which then had Nathalie flinching out of her stead.

Like Keith hit the nail on the head, he would soon clear his cast of doubts as he would've hoped, but he couldn't help but get wary enough for the dread that lingered inside him.

Mystique's eyes widened—almost a glint seen—as her trembling lips parted.

"Cat's got out of the bag, eh?" Withal, his bindings on her tighten, and the ice crept towards her shin and trapped her for the meantime. 

He pondered, gritting his teeth out of frustration.

'Why had she gone silent?' 

When her will to cut loose from him dwindled, a series of panic swelled in his heart as soon as he gaped at how much blood splattered through the ground. He somehow had a cut on her neck out of anger—but not that deep as he thought it would be…

Amidst it, he sighed out of relief, but he then stood frozen—forgot to blink, move, and breathe—when a sudden tear on her left eye escaped and coursed down her cheek. 

She had yet to blink, and from the overcrowding, tears on her eyes became too unstoppable as they cascaded through and through.

There it happened again, a brand new year, but this had been the most times he witnessed an expression that would've never happened throughout his lifetime.

Her plight became an invisible jab at him, and he couldn't help but stare at the nothingness, unable to do anything.

But then, his ears perked up when a series of thuds grew stronger with every step, and as the presence lingered, he had an onset of palpitation ragging inside. 

In an instant, he dropped his dagger, and from the thick ice thawed, vanishing into thin air.

'No! I got too blinded by my emotions! This shan't be the way to—'

His body trembled as he wanted to check her vital signs, but all of a sudden, a dark mist burst around her and thrashed him towards the other side of the wall. From such impact, he sucked at the air like it had become thick and murky and almost too difficult to take in.

A glimpse of it and almost waned his consciousness a step away to the darkness.

From the large crater that spread throughout the wall hitting his back, a pain akin to a bludgeon crushed his spine, making him cough up blood, and a severe concussion rendered him helpless.

His body slid down the cracking walls and then sat on the floor, no different from a lifeless mannequin.

A growl left Keith's lips while he stared at them.

"Well, well, if it isn't a loyal dog that would end up biting the owner, let alone bearing such fangs." Athan came, and Mystique someone leaned on him, within his embrace. After which, his glance landed on the fresh wound that bloomed her neck with skepticism. "Ugh, a witch's blood!"

Without further complaints, his tongue went for a lick, several times, on her wounds. The Crown Prince came in the nick of time, eyes closed, and passionately took his time to heal her.

From his swaying dark cape became placid after a fierce gale within. A few moments later, he then looked to the side as the door went unhinged from Nathan, who barged in with the twins behind him.

"Your Highness…" Nathan's eyes went agape and then went to Keith, who was clearly stunned and helpless on the floor. "What in hell's fury happened—"

"Perhaps you're the one in question. I knew that I should've stopped Violette from coming here."

"I beg your pardon, Your Highness! However, It's—not what you think—

"What am I supposed to believe then?"

"It's—"

"Oh, I didn't know those…" Athan's trailed off his voice, peering a tad bit behind the Grand Duke. "Twins were also under your wing. Impressive."

Keith's head continued to ring in pain but never gave up. Despite having no idea what was going on, he stood up.

"I must teach you a lesson or two, you whorish mongrel. For now, we shall take our leave!"

Before Nathan could stop them, they already disappeared in sight.