Page 110 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

My hands began to tremble. I curled them into fists to hide it, but Kazimir noticed. Of course he noticed.

“The runes were specific to your bloodline,” he continued, his voice soft. “They wouldn’t have affected anyone else in the household. Just you.”

“Not just me.” The room suddenly felt too small, the air too thick. “My mother was from the First Hero’s bloodline. That’s why my father married her.” I laughed, a bitter sound that scraped my throat. “I always thought it was strange that she never showed any magical ability. She used to tell me stories about our ancestor, about the magic in our blood. But I never saw her use it.”

“Because she couldn’t,” Kazimir said. “Not with those runes in place.”

“And then he did the same to me.” The humming beneath my skin intensified, turning sharp and insistent. My fingertips tingled. The teacup in front of me began to tremble, then crack, a hairline fracture spreading across the delicate porcelain. “He would lock me in that tower whenever I showed signs of anything beyond healing magic. He called it ‘discipline’ for being too weak to control myself.”

“You were never weak,” Kazimir said firmly. “Even with your powers suppressed, you were formidable. I sensed it the moment I saw you. And you’ve demonstrated it several times over.”

The prickly, scalding rage unfurled under my skin. “Did you kill him?”

“No.” Kazimir’s eyes were dark with something that might have been regret. “I considered it. But I thought that decision should be yours.”

The sunlight seemed to intensify, glinting off the silverware until it hurt to look at it. The windows began to rattle in their frames as my magic pushed outward, seeking release. I could feel the glass vibrating, hear the high-pitched whine as pressure built against the panes.

“Arabella,” Kazimir said quietly, caution in his tone.

I ignored him, lost in the storm of my own rage. My father had stolen my mother’s magic. Had stolen mine.

The pressure built to an unbearable crescendo. Magic exploded outward from me in a wave of pure, unfiltered rage. The windows shattered, glass flying outward into the open air beyond the tower. Plates cracked. Goblets shattered.

Cold air rushed in, whipping my hair around my face. I gasped, suddenly aware of what I’d done.

Kazimir hadn’t moved. He sat across from me, utterly calm, as if having breakfast amid a shower of broken glass was a perfectly normal occurrence.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” I asked, bewildered by his lack of reaction.

He brushed a shard from his shoulder. “I’m familiar with the catharsis of creative destruction. You needed that.”

I stared at him, then at the destruction around us. A laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me—slightly hysterical,but genuine. I took a shaky breath. “So then what happened yesterday, in the war room?”

His eyes gleamed with pride. “Yesterday wasn’t just an accident of passion. I believe the last hold on your magic snapped, and well...” He gestured at the devastation around us. “You’ve been holding back a great deal of power for a very long time.”

I stared at my hands, which were trembling with the magic coursing through me, stronger and wilder than it had ever been. When I looked up, Kazimir was kneeling beside my chair. He took my hands in his. “What you’re feeling now, that constant hum of power under your skin? That’s you, unbound and unchained. Exactly as you should be.”

He squeezed my fingers gently. “About the blood test you yelled at me for… I discovered something.”

“What?”

“Your bloodline magic amplifies other magic to an extraordinary degree.” His eyes held mine, intense and serious. “When combined with mine, the effect is unprecedented.”

I pulled my hands away and stood. “Now I’m some kind of magical anomaly?”

“You’re extraordinary,” Kazimir corrected, following me. His feet crunched over broken glass. “You’re from the First Hero’s line, sure, but there’s something older woven into it. I can’t claim to know the exact source. I only know you have the capacity to become far stronger than your father ever realized. Now that the runes can’t dampen your power, your magic will keep growing. We’ll work on your control, but otherwise…” He breathed in, eyes ablaze with a dangerous excitement. “The possibilities are endless.”

For the first time, I noticed a thin line of blood trickling down his cheek where a shard had caught him.

“You’re bleeding,” I said, reaching toward his face.

Kazimir went perfectly still as my fingers hovered near the cut. “What are you doing?”

“Healing you. Don’t be difficult.”

He tensed when my magic made contact with the wound. The cut sealed beneath my touch, leaving unblemished skin. When I withdrew my hand, he trapped it in his own and pressed a kiss to my palm.

“What happens now?” I whispered.

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