The Book of G

The Book of G LILY ARCHER The Book of G Lily Archer Copyright © 2023 Lily Archer All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Lily Archer. This book is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, fictional characters, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Dire Warning: If you pirate this book, the Hag of the Bloody Stump will eat you, your children, their children, and your favorite pet (but not your least favorite pet; that one will remain). Editing: Spell Bound Cover: Perfect Pear Illustrations: Zakuga Contents The Book of G Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Epilogue Happily Ever After Acknowledgments NSFW Art Also by Lily Archer About the Author The Book of G A classic villain tells his own story. I have a glorious past full of achievement and renown. I mean, I feel like I must, right? The problem is, I can’t remember it. I can’t even remember my own name. I was found in a river, body mangled and face scarred, with nothing to identify me besides a single embroidered letter. My memory is a murky blur, but I have a quest, one that will give me back everything I’ve lost. The voice in the water told me so. But the voice seemed to miss a few important highlights—namely the woman who challenges me at every twist and turn of my journey. The woman who tells me I’m a villain. The woman who never misses an opportunity to throw an insult my way. The woman who becomes every fervent whisper of my heart, and every last thought in my head. If I can complete my quest and recover what I’ve lost, she’ll see we’re meant to be. But villains don’t get happily ever afters. Do they? Chapter One Pain. Not the kind you get when you stub a toe or bust your knee. This is searing and all-consuming, like lightning streaking off in all directions and wrapping your body in agony. And it’s cold. So fucking cold that for a brief moment I wonder why I hurt so much. Why can I still feel it? It’s dark here. Not a light or a fire or even a star. Or perhaps I simply can’t see. Where am I? I don’t remember. I don’t know. I can’t breathe. Or, I can, but it burns. So I try not to. I hold my breath until the darkness becomes new and velvety, until I can imagine it’s warm. But then I scrape against something hard and sharp, sending a new streak of pain running through me until I scream, the sound distant and garbled. And then I breathe. I repeat this process again and again until I wish it was over. I wish I was over right along with it. How did I get here? My mind can only process the running thread of my suffering. There is nothing else. When I try to think, to actually think, the hurt brings me right back to the cold dark, to the lightning that flashes over and over again, lighting me up in bright agony until I choke, sinking down, down, down. I hold my breath. Hold. Hold. Hold. Hold. Burn. Burn. Burn. When I finally give in and take a breath, the burning increases a hundred-fold. My lungs are encased in flames as I scrape against the edges of the blackness that surrounds me. The sharpness of the dark cuts away my flesh, flaying me as I drown. I convulse. This is the end. I welcome it. I want oblivion. I want anything except the agony of existing. If I could pray for death, I would. But my mind can’t go there, can’t stray too far away from the torment that obscures all other thought. “Not yet.” A voice, one that wraps around me like silky vines. I feel myself drifting away. I want to drift away. This has to be over. I can’t stand it anymore. “Not yet.” The voice is more forceful this time. Fuck off! I take another agonizing breath, my lungs heavy and singed. The coldness changes. Still icy, but somehow no longer weighing me down. I cough, water spewing from my mouth. Again and again I heave, the lightning pain growing sharper each time, reminding me that I’m caught in some sort of hell. When I’m empty, when I breathe in gulps of traitorous air. Light sparks. A slight glow, a mirage behind my eyelids. My eyes are closed. The darkness was so complete only a moment ago. But the light grows until it pierces me, lances thrown through my eyes and crashing through the back of my head. I’m pinned in place like a bug. I yell, the sound ripped apart and guttural. Deep, gurgling, wrong. Someone tsks. “A long fall.” A long fall? I try to pull apart my memories, to find one of falling. But once again, the deep ache rushes up and stills my mind, shattering the whispers before they can create a thought. “Mortally wounded. You won’t last but a few moments more.” A woman’s voice I realize, smooth and melodic. “Just let me go,” I say. But I say nothing at all. My mouth doesn’t move. No sound leaves. “I should let you go.” She touches my forehead, warmth in her fingertips. I don’t want warmth. I want death! I can’t stand her touch,