To Love A Villain-Chapter 207: Story Of Half-Breeds

>>Enya

His voice wasn’t accusatory. It was tired. Honest. Like he’d asked that question before and never gotten an answer that made sense.

I didn’t answer at first.

I looked toward Einar.

He was already smiling—soft, sad, but proud somehow, like he knew I was about to say something that mattered. That was the thing about Einar. He always understood, even when I hadn’t said anything yet.

Then I looked back at Ahin and smiled too. Not out of amusement. Just... quietly.

"You’re less of a stranger to me than anyone else in this entire mansion," I said. "You know why?" He stared at me, silent. "Because, like me, you’re a half demon."

His eyes widened, only slightly—but I noticed. He didn’t deny it. He didn’t flinch.

"I’ve spent my whole life pretending that part of me doesn’t exist," I continued. "Or being punished for it. Told to act ’better,’ ’purer,’ more like the demon half of me that’s easier for people to look at." I pointed at myself, pointing out the fact that I looked completely human.

I looked over at Rika then—small, curled up on the rug, watching us with wide, tired eyes—and I lowered my voice.

"I can’t do anything about how they see me. I know that. I’m not trying to rewrite my fate anymore. But if there’s someone out there who’s like me... someone who doesn’t belong anywhere either... then I’d rather help them. Even if I can’t help myself."

Ahin was quiet.

He sat there, unmoving, but I could tell by the way his eyes stayed locked on mine—quiet, calculating—that his mind was racing.

"...What are you?" he finally asked, "You both have a unique scent. I can’t recognize it."

I didn’t hesitate. "Half fae," I said simply. "Me and my twin brother, Einar. We’re fae."

His brows lifted. "Fae?" he repeated like the word was foreign in his mouth. "That’s... rare. Barely anyone has seen a fae. They don’t come down from the highlands. Ever."

Einar shifted behind me. "Our mother was one of the unfortunate ones," he said. "Unlucky enough to cross paths with our father."

There was no heat in his tone. Just sadness.

Ahin frowned. "Why would the Duke even...? Humans barely tolerate their own kind. Why go after the fae?"

That’s true. Humans despise all other kinds. The only exception they make is for elves. For some weird reason, they are very impressed by elves.

I exhaled a tired chuckle, and beside me, Einar did the same. It wasn’t even bitter. Just—real.

"We’ve asked ourselves that a thousand times," I murmured.

Ahin’s expression didn’t change, but I could see a slight shift in him. A quiet understanding.

And then—softly, gently—a sound I hadn’t expected.

Rika giggled.

Just a faint, light giggle. She was still curled up, fragile as ever, but hearing us laugh had made her smile.

Ahin turned to her instantly, and his face... it didn’t relax, not quite, but the tension in his shoulders lessened. The hardness in his eyes softened just a bit. The sound of her giggle clearly brought something peaceful to him—however brief.

Einar leaned back, his voice more even now. "The Duke had nine daughters before we were born,"

"Nine?" Ahin said.

"Nine. All from different women." Einr added, "He wanted a son. An heir. But every time he tried for a son, the child would die at birth."

Ahin looked back at him. His silence said he wanted to know more, so Einar kept going.

"Frustrated, he turned to a witch. Paid her more gold than you could count. Asked for a solution."

I nodded slowly, adding, "She told him to find a fae. Have a child with her. And when the child turned two... he was to pluck its wings and consume them. That night he’d try again for a son."

Ahin’s face twisted in revulsion.

Einar met his eyes, voice steady despite the weight of it all. "The witch told him everything. Even when and where he’d find a fae. Said one would come down to the forest at the end of winter. Alone. Desperate for herbs that grew only in human territory"

I felt my throat tighten.

"She came, just like the witch said," I whispered. "And he was waiting."

Silence settled over the room like a thick, suffocating fog.

No one spoke after the last truth had been laid bare—about the witch, the fae, our mother.

Then Ahin’s quiet voice broke through. "What happened to her... your mother?"

I lowered my gaze, and this time, I answered gently. "She didn’t survive childbirth."

Ahin didn’t say anything. Neither did Einar. The weight of it all hung between us, heavy and unmoving. Even Rika had gone quiet again, clinging to her brother’s side, her small hands gripping his arm like she could disappear into him.

I straightened slightly, brushing the hair out of my face. "Ahin," I said, voice low but firm, "We mean you no harm." He looked at me again and I continued, "Please trust us on this. We only wish to help."

He just stared at me and I knew I should just jump straight to the point,

"Ahin," I called his name firmly as I balled my fists, "be my bodyguard."

He blinked at me, caught off guard again, "What?"

"I promise you," I continued, my eyes flickering between him and Rika, "when the time is right, Einar and I will do everything we can to get you both out of this country. Somewhere safe. Somewhere free."

I could see the doubt in his eyes. The hesitation. He didn’t trust us. Not fully. Not yet. And I understood. To him, we were still strangers. We were the duke’s children. And Einar—Einar had dismissed the guards with a single word. That carried weight.

But then, without warning, Einar reached out and gently took Ahin’s hand in his.

I blinked in surprise. So did Ahin.

Einar’s expression softened immediately—his lashes low, his breathing deepening.

I knew that look.

He was using his magic.

His voice came quiet but certain. "Trust us, Ahin. We won’t betray you."

There was a beat.

Ahin didn’t pull his hand away.

I watched Einar closely. His magic was emotion-based—he could feel a person’s heart, their intentions. And as his face softened even more, almost like he was relieved, I knew what he’d found in Ahin.

He wasn’t a bad person.

That’s why he smiled like that. Einar can tell the emotions of a person when he touches them with his magic and he can even amplify those feelings. And I always believe his words.

I believe everything he says except for when he says Emrys isn’t a bad person. Because despite Einar’s words, Emrys had only ever done bad to me.

I exhaled, slowly.

"Please," I whispered, "say yes."

Ahin turned his head slowly, eyes shifting from Einar to me. Something in him had changed—his hesitation tempered by a quieter kind of resolve. Most likely because Einar influenced his emotions.

It’s not that Einar can change them. Only make the ones the person already has stronger.

"I was a royal guard," he said.

The silence that followed was sharp. I felt Einar freeze beside me, and my own breath caught mid-inhale.

"You?" I asked softly, stunned.

He nodded. "I made it in when I was sixteen. Youngest in my batch. But I was strong, fast... and careful. My genes... they’re mostly human. Repressed." His voice was heavy, as though every word he spoke carried the weight of years. "My mother was human. But Rika... she didn’t get so lucky."

We all turned to look at the little girl. She blinked wide eyes at us from beneath her tangled hair. Dirt clung to her skin. Her tail—small, barely visible under the oversized shirt she wore—twitched unconsciously.

Ahin’s jaw clenched. "After our parents died, I raised her alone. She was just a baby."

"What happened to them?" I asked gently.

He didn’t look at me. He just kept going, like if he stopped, he wouldn’t be able to speak again. "Our mother died shortly after giving birth to Rika. She was too weak. Our father... he was hunted and killed before that. Humans found out what he was. All he did was go into the village to get food for our mother, and they..." He broke off for a moment, pressing the heel of his hand into his eyes. "They didn’t even wait. Just dragged him out and slaughtered him in the snow."

A hush fell over the room, the only sound being Rika’s soft breathing as she leaned against his side.

"From then on, it was just us. I trained, I worked, I fought to make a place for myself. I kept Rika hidden. Taught her everything. Told her not to show her ears, her tail—taught her to be still."

He swallowed hard, looking down at the floor like it shamed him.

"But... she wanted to see me and she is still too young.."

He looked up, right at me.

"She came to the royal training grounds one day. Just to catch a glimpse of me during the drills. She was hiding, watching from the trees... but then she saw how brutal the session was." His voice dropped lower. "The blood. The way we were forced to fight like beasts. It frightened her."

I could already see where this was going.

"Her tail slipped out," he said. "Just for a second. But it was enough. Another guard saw her."

My heart sank.

Ahin paused for a moment before he started again, "That was all it took. I was dragged in, stripped of everything—my badge, my rank, my sword. They called me a traitor. Said I’d harbored a demon child. They didn’t care that she was just a little girl. They threw us both into the dungeon and shut the door."

His voice cracked slightly then, but he didn’t cry.

He just looked at me.

"I never let anything happen to her, not once. But... I couldn’t protect her from that."

For a moment, no one moved.

Rika curled closer into his side, and he gently put an arm around her. Even now, he still shielded her like she was the only thing that mattered.

I reached forward, gently placing a hand on his knee.

"You did everything you could," I said quietly.

His eyes met mine, and though they were tired—haunted—they held something else too.

Hope.

"I believe you," I said. "And I won’t let what happened to her—or to you." We looked deep into each other’s eyes, "I promise, I’ll get you both out of this country." He looked straight into my eyes, "I’ll get you both to safety."