Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Athan snapped his eyes open, sitting straight up the bed, and took a glance at the same guest-chamber that he stayed in.

Light, not as golden as he was used to but brimmed with cooling effect, cast aglow in his room with a serene ambiance, coupled with clean and stark designs in the chamber left him an impression that he was treated more than a guest.

For now, his mind was all hazy, unable to think straight, and took time to yawn aloud.

'Wait…' All of a sudden, he stopped his tracks. 'That was the first time—I have gotten a good night's rest...'

His body was incredibly light, and with a quick stretch on his back and arms, there wasn't a single sore burned—not one bit in his body.

But a sharp pain bloomed when he tried to think so much of what happened that night. It was like his mind rammed hard and went all mushy.

Although it didn't fail to deceive from his gaze as there, found bruises and marks of any kind he could think of, found on his forearms.

'These are—' He gazed downwards, to see his torso that served a perfect canvas now became a masterpiece for sensual art.

Hickeys scattered like a sea of stars, and there found his nipples went rigid and swollen red.

It wasn't all as several bites, bruises, and marks whatever he could think of was all over him.

Only fragments by fragments of the time showed up; nevertheless, it didn't fail to fluster him from the never-seen-before acts.

The dreamy night came and ebbed to him like tides, which had him widen his eyes from the occurrence. The room was void of breeze, but every inch of his skin felt the sudden sear after goosebumps befell him.

Athan's lower half got covered under the thick, cozy white blankets, in which he opted to remove them out of curiosity. At that moment, he couldn't help but knead his forehead as he wasn't able to keep up the heat uprising how flushed he got.

Yet no pain lingered out of such marks that got smeared all over his chiseled, lean body.

Perhaps what he saw on his torso was an understatement. Every spot triggered such an intimate scene that flashed before him.

The night that called each other's name ever-so-passionately.

Their bodies continued to resonate with desire like there was no tomorrow.

Without a doubt, to him, it was the best night he had throughout his active lifestyle; it made the first encounter together reign second place.

This time, he covered his face, groaning out loud; he mumbled great disappointment but every muscle he had gone so tensed.

Even the one underneath the sheets made a steep mound that continued to throb without delay.

His body still remembers her, and he would be damned if he denied how he didn't want for more.

It was rage.

But then, realization dawned upon him, who Mystique truly was…

She was born that way.

'All of it was for just sensual pleasure?!'

Not that he claimed he was a monster in bed, but it did feel better to hear it from women and occasionally beautiful men, as it rubbed his ego.

However, this was different.

Mystique blew him away, so much, and in so many ways.

Athan gritted his teeth, ruffling his hair so hard as he was unable to think straight from the sudden anger that swept over him.

'She learned quite a lot, making me lose my sanity and surrender in deep pleasure throughout the night.' He combed his now slick hair with a glare. 'No one has ever made me feel that way.'

He then let out a dry laugh, throwing his head back to the headboard. 'What a slutty woman that she was…

All Athan swarmed through his mind was how much of a deceitful woman she was, even before he took notice. He stood as he reached the edge of the bed and went to the full-length mirror.

He gritted his teeth; until now, he still craved for her.

'In just a short time, perhaps she already explored her 'strengths' before she even knew the lustful creature that she was… Then pretended she was no less than a virgin—a pure, demure lady that she claimed.'

He scratched his head from the chaos that ran through him—of both lust and anger that would blow up anytime soon. With the clean attire folded by the nearby nightstand, he strode close and slipped them on him without a hitch.

However, he clicked his tongue when the love bites started to stick out, bearing great contrast with its lush red hue against his pale skin.

Taking his time fixing his collar and cuffs, he began to think about his recent objectives: the first one was visiting Nero.

Athan, as such, knew of the location, so it wasn't that difficult—even sneaking through the layers of the castle was no problem.

But he just has to be cautious about that one man he won't be able to fight against, at least for the time being.

Athan already got out of his chamber and scoured around, looking for footmen and maids that roamed around the Starbrooke Castle, but surprisingly it was rather quiet, to begin with.

Surprisingly, nearly everyone, even Mystique, and Arnold were outside, who knew what they would do with such an assembly of men.

Not that he cared one bit.

He only heard that it was another guest chamber, but when he tried to locate where he was, his eyes widened out of fear.

Not that it was bad news to him as he strode deeper in the basement. If not for the magic lamps that dimly lit an array in the path for every several steps made downwards, then one would hesitate astriding the area.

But the eeriness that breathed from the pitch-darkness that laid beyond the horizon hit all the same.

This was Mystique's personal dungeon for a reason.

As he was once a witness, the horror he had in mind was still fresh in his mind.

With that thought alone dreaded Athan what could possibly happen to Nero, but sensing how he wasn't harmed, even a speck of dust assured him that Mystique has good intentions.

At least for now, as what he would have thought.

'Until I get to see what other things lie behind this door.' He pondered as he took a stop at the large door that breathed with cold air on its surface, reaching his palm onto the handle.

'Here we go—'

Right then and there, he was at loss for words.