Page 127 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

I clung to Kazimir’s hand, and he gripped so tightly it almost hurt. We dodged rubble-strewn hallways and the occasional frantic staff member until we reached the spiral staircase leading to the eastern tower.

My heart lurched when I saw the damage. The staircase had partly collapsed, chunks of stone scattered across the floor. Kazimir scrambled over the debris first, then extended an arm to haul me up.

“Be careful,” he warned, gripping my arm as a stone shifted beneath my boot. “If you fall and break your neck after surviving all this, I’ll be extremely annoyed.”

“Easy, Kaz,” I muttered. “I might think you actually care about me.”

We managed to climb over the broken steps and stumbled into the tower room. I gasped. The wooden door had been blasted off its hinges, shattered into kindling. An eerie purple glow flickered in the air, crackling with stray sparks of energy that set my teeth on edge.

Griffin stood near the pedestal in the chamber’s center, backlit by bright, flickering arcs of magic. His eyes were wide enough to rival an owl’s. His hair stood in frizzled tufts, and his robe was singed.

“My lord! Lady Blackrose!” he exclaimed, nearly tripping over a loose stone in his haste to reach us. “Thank the forgotten gods you’re all right. There was... I tried to?—”

“What happened?” Kazimir’s curt demand rang through the chaotic space. He stalked toward the Heirloom, leaving Griffin in his wake.

I swallowed hard as I followed, already guessing what I’d see. My blood went cold the instant I reached the pedestal.

The Heirloom of Dominion gaped with a devastating crack nearly splitting it in half. Hairline fractures branched outward in every direction, forming a lattice of ruin.

“Oh gods,” I whispered, pressing my hand to Kazimir’s arm. “It’s... it’s so much worse than before.”

He looked pale. “When did it happen?” he asked Griffin, though of course he already knew.

“About fifteen minutes ago, my lord,” Griffin admitted with a shaky glance at Kazimir—and, tellingly, at me. “I was monitoring the artifact’s fluctuations when this surge hit. The raw energy threw me across the room.” He gestured to a spiderweb crack in the wall. “By the time I woke up, the storm outside was raging, and the Heirloom was, well...”

His voice trailed off as he glanced between our disheveled clothes and the mark on my neck. I felt my cheeks heating. The timeline matched precisely with our sweaty entanglement in thelibrary. Of course. The only thing missing was a banner readingWe Just Had Sex And Broke The Crown.

Kazimir cleared his throat. “Understood, Griffin. Likely what we’d already suspected.”

Griffin’s blush deepened. “Yes, my lord. That is... quite conclusive data.”

Kazimir shot Griffin a dry look. “You don’t need to dance around it. We fucked, and the Heirloom cracked further. That’s all there is to it.”

“Kazimir!” I hissed, mortified and irritated in equal measure. He tilted his head as though asking if I wanted a more poetic version. I bit back a laugh. Even in the face of potential catastrophe, he had a knack for making me want to strangle or kiss him.

He turned serious as he surveyed the crown. “This is even worse than I anticipated.”

My gut churned. If it was beyond repair, all those twisted plans for dominion, Kazimir’s entire vendetta, my chance to carve out my own power—vanished. “Can it be fixed if we find the right method?” I asked softly.

“I don’t know.” His jaw tightened. “Griffin, any thoughts?”

Keeping a wary distance from the artifact, Griffin examined the splintered edges. “The power signature is still present, but it’s impossibly volatile. I wouldn’t recommend... well, doing anything with it.”

“Unless my goal is to blow us straight into the underworld,” Kazimir said grimly.

Before either of us could process that lovely mental image further, boots scuffed over the rubble at the door. I turned to see Vex, Sims, and Thorne picking their way through the rubble, each of them dust-streaked and frazzled.

“Report,” Kazimir commanded.

Vex took the lead. She snapped a quick glance at the battered door—then at me and Kazimir, reading an entire story on our faces, no doubt. “Damage is extensive, but the citadel’s main structure remains intact. We have injuries reported, some of them serious but not fatal. Magister Vellum is in the infirmary with a bump on the head and a ruined stock of books.”

I winced. Somehow I didn’t think he’d be so quick to make recommendations after this.

Thorne and Sims chimed in. The lightning bridges were unstable, swirling in and out of existence. The wards were strained near their limits. If the Heirloom lashed out again, we might lose more than just a few walls and staircases.

Kazimir’s expression darkened. He brushed dust off his shirt, only half listening. I didn’t blame him. My own mind reeled with the potential consequences. The entire fortress could come crashing down if the Heirloom decided to blow.

Griffin cleared his throat behind us. “There’s one more matter, my lord.”

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