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Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

[ENRICHED WITH MATURE CONTENT. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION. ] AUTHOR TRANSMIGRATION "I want to write Villain perspective! Enough of this Hero and Heroine gig!" Nathalie Jean Quinn, life was so ordinary until she wrote the first book of her sequel, The Prince's Retribution, swept all over the literature world and garnered massive fan base and fortune. Now, she wanted to leave out of her comfort zone and challenge herself-- To seek the memoirs of a villainess in the story; for its sequel, The Prince's Ascension, Mystique is revealed. But even the management and the audiences begged to differ, so she made her way. Although, in the middle of completing the Sequel, the main villain, Mystique Blackwell, comes for her in that magical encounter and cursed her. Will Nathalie now transform to a monster that she created in her own story? *** Excerpt*** "You're mine. Am I clear? You're my property." Mystique was pressing her thighs against his, which he could never break free from her beguiling clutches. She was on top of him; the surge of confidence came with her and took charge for the whole ride. Her eyes were obscured with gleaming lust, and her hands worked their wonders and slinked to his chiseled abs up to his brawn sweaty chest. Every time she landed a smooth caress, he let out a stuttering moan as he was in spasms. His toes would dig deep into the mattress, no different from his nails that clawed, not trying to touch her sacred body. It wasn't all as she reached for his nipples, rubbing them ever-so-softly. The man would throw his bobbed back to the woolly pillows and arched his back from pleasure. Even though the bed creaked—fast and subtle that played their ears—she loved it. Just as she adored every point in him... Not a second delayed as he would shiver every time she would stroke the same parts of him. On the other hand, she has kept up the pace ever since. She crashed her well-endowed chest against his. Their lips parted by a hair's breadth, and he gritted his teeth as he saw her angelic feature up-close, driven by ecstasy. His gestures and countenance fueled her within, hastening the pace. There, he couldn't control his voice and let out pleasurable groans and grunts. Within those seconds, more thoughts began to blur her. She grabbed a handful of his hair, bringing him closer to her while whispering his ear. "You're mine. Am I clear? You're my property." *** P,S, The book has come to an end in a good note! Thank you so much for reading!

Aethereal · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
322 Chs

Mythical Starbrooke Castle

Athan ventured for how many hours since they took flight, but he knew the weather slowly got worse, slamming his face with sheer cold.

His body trembled; hairs formed small icicles, and he had a mustache and beard made of ice. However, his mind and his natural fire element he got born with allowed him to last long in this harsh environment.

The northern region had a cruel topography—the mountainous location was a strategic point and an asset to the empire. It made the invaders hard to attack through this side of the territory.

Outsiders would think that the people from the north were worse than nomads, but he begged to differ; all the more, he knew how fast it developed, even the Imperial Capital got threatened.

A city secretly established through Mystique's guidance was something he wanted to covet for a long time. However, he didn't do so out of respect for her at that time.

'This time, he was bound to claim them first and foremost, before Mystique could try to get her hands, who knows...'

There were two possible directions Mystique could go, as far as Athan was concerned: either she would continue with the usual demonic practices like the usual timeline he was familiar with, or she could turn an enemy who had more or less the same advantage as him.

The former might be plausible; now that he knew better, there's no way Mystique could do so.

Possibly could've got an alliance with her, never thought such a day would come.

Though perchance happened, the latter surely it would never be an easy battle; if that was the case, then he would have to bleed for as long as he could.

But before he could wallow further, Nero gave a heads up as he spotted the engorged spire that towered in the heart of the castle.

"Should we crash up there?"

Athan couldn't help but feel the nostalgia that crept into his heart; at this moment, all he had was that pain continued to writhe from within.

"Wake up! Should we crash there or not?!" Nero shook his back a tad bit while he called him out once more.

"What else?" He peered down at him. "Full speed ahead."

"You're crazy."

"I shall take that as a compliment—"

Nero retorted, "We can't enter like this—"

"Who said we can't?" Athan showed him the insignia—the one that bore the symbol solely for Emperor of the Dysnomia Empire. "Did you forget about it?"

"I call abuse to authority."

Athan groaned, covering his face before bursting out at him. "Listen to me first; let's land over there!" Then pointed at the small balcony from the tallest spire of the castle.

"Very well!" His body began to rumble from a peal of stoic, deep laughter he got before landing with ease.

Soon as they set foot on the stone floors, they prowled, looking around for various traps and other surprises that awaited them.

When the coast was clear, they dusted off the snow pile that adorned them.

"Nero, come closer," he beckoned, in which his familiar moved in light steps. "There's one thing you could do; I know you would be able to complete this task without much of a problem."

Nero looked at him with a smug, "You give me too much of a credit—Remember, nothing is free in this world."

Meanwhile, Athan took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he had to be patient with him. After all, his efforts would bear into fruition with just a little time to cooperate for a while.

"Since you're able to transform into a small and inanimate object, then I'm sure you can infiltrate with ease."

"Mhmm…" Nero nodded with vigor, like the youngling he was.

"Just take note: If possible, don't make much of a sound if there are people around."

"Noted."

"If you happen to encounter Mystique herself, don't radiate too much heat—well, you're stone-cold… Just make sure your temperature is the same as your surroundings or lower, so she would never know. Conceal if you must."

After the death of Mystique, receiving her legacy, he was able to know about her like the back of his hand.

Both of them are able to detect heat signatures, but as the man with a noble vampire that flowed in his veins while hers would be a creature's silhouette.

He was far superior to her in terms of overall senses, not just vision.

Now, something within him is trying to claw him to rope him by her side, despite their differences in achieving their goals. He held the belief she could change her perspective, as it was not too late.

"I want you to check through the special room that's adjacent to Mystique's bed-chamber."

Nero twisted his head, almost upside-down, from utter confusion of the kind of request he had.

"Are you trying to infect me with your perversions and your damned fantasia?"

"Who told you to look at lingeries?!" the crown prince replied. While he rummaged through the pouch and grabbed a handful of jewelry and gemstones. "We don't have much time. You can have this for all I care; if you do the mission well, then there will be more wait—"

Before Athan could continue, Nero opened his mouth—big and wide—enough to gobble, including his hand. He hissed when its large, flat teeth somehow grind against the wrist, making him let go of all of it and down the drain.

To be honest, for him, it was nostalgic enough to see this kind of side of the familiar when

these turned out but a fleeting, vague memory he had for a long time.

It wasn't so bad at all.

'Maybe feeding this treasure bin is more special than I thought.'

Meanwhile, the familiar was in such a huge smile. Only then he noticed the amiable smile, ignoring the scrunching face from pain, finally let go.

"Not with a smile while I almost eat your hand alive." Nero pulled back with disgust on his face. "So you were into that…"

"Stop fooling around." He dismissively waved him off. "I've done my part. Don't fail me; I await your good news."

"You can count on me with this."

"I'll show up through a 'grand visit'. I'm giving you time to collect as much as you can, alright?"

"Agreed." Nero nodded, slowly shifting into a smaller size, similar to a cat.

This time, Athan ran and took a leap of faith by the balcony.

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