Page 115 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

Slowly, it coalesced. My core trembled with an almost gentle warmth, and I felt a flutter near my fingertips. Opening my eyes, I saw a small bird made of shimmering light perched on my cupped palms. My breath caught. Every feather glinted in an array of colors, shifting as though capturing starlight.

The bird hovered there, fully formed, its wings beating in perfect silence. It was more beautiful than the one I’d created from the mouse’s life force, because this one came purely from me. From my magic. From my will. Its tiny weight felt like nothing, yet I could sense the connection between us—a thread of magic linking creator and creation.

Well done,it seemed to whisper.

Three seconds. Four. Five. Then it dissolved, its essence rolling back into me. That time, the bird left a soft echo behind. Stunned, I created it again, faster, stronger. It flew lazy loops around my head, then perched on my finger.

I lost track of how long I practiced. Each conjured bird grew more elaborate, some singing voiceless songs that resonated in my mind. Others flitted through the swirling smoke overhead before winking out.

I barely noticed my scorched dress or the straw littering the chamber. I just felt… free. Slowly, the anger and fear seeped out of me, replaced by pure joy in what I could do when no one was holding me back.

“They’re beautiful.”

I jumped, nearly losing hold of the glowing phoenix-bird perched on my fingertips. It dissolved in a swirl of red-gold motes. My heart lurched as I turned. Kazimir stood against the door, arms folded, expression carefully neutral.

“How long have you been standing there?” I demanded, suddenly conscious of my tattered dress and the destruction surrounding me.

He pushed off from the door and took a few steps in. “Long enough to see you tear through half my training equipment, then create something remarkable.”

“I’ll… replace those dummies,” I offered, glancing at the charred husks that lined the back wall.

He waved them off. “I have more. Though I should order them in bulk if this becomes a habit.”

Despite myself, I smiled. “How often do you hide in the shadows to spy on me?”

“Never,” he said, and I could tell it was the truth. “I wasn’t hiding now, either. You were simply so focused that you didn’t notice me enter.”

“That’s... concerning.”

“It’s something to work on.” Kazimir studied the scorched, cracked floor. Then regarded me with a strange softness. “But you looked magnificent.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Weren’t you busy with the Heirloom?” The question sounded defensive, even to me.

A momentary shadow crossed his face. “I was. But… I missed you.”

That simple statement stole the breath from my lungs. I narrowed my eyes, trying to spot any manipulation. I found only sincere weariness etched in the lines around his mouth.

“You... missed me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” He stopped a few feet away, respecting my space. “Yes, the Heirloom is important. But… you’re important, too. Not just because of the power you bring. Because…” He sucked in a breath, as though he hated admitting it. “Because of this thing between us, whatever it is. It’s... new. For me.”

It was perhaps the least eloquent I’d ever seen the Dark Lord, and strangely, that made his words more meaningful. Though I still didn’t know whether to feel flattered or angry. My magic prickled on my skin, uncertain which emotion to feed on.

“I missed you, too,” I confessed. “Even though you infuriate me sometimes.”

“I noticed.” His gaze flicked to the demolished training dummies. “Remind me never to truly anger you.”

“Too late for that.” But there was no heat in my words.

He took another step closer and smiled, an honest, rueful curve of his mouth. “Show me another bird?”

I hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. “They’re not perfect yet.”

“Show me anyway.”

I took a deep breath and drew magic from the reservoir inside me, shaping a small bird with shimmering midnightfeathers. It flitted from my fingertips to Kazimir’s outstretched hand, perching there as though examining him. His eyes glowed with fascination.

“You’ve done this in an afternoon,” he murmured. “Conjured a complex construct that most mages can’t manage after years of study.”

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