Page 130 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

It obeyed, at first. The limbs began bending, the spine creaking as it lowered itself. Then another searing pain ignited in my runes. It was as if someone had shoved a fiery iron rod straight into my marrow. I lost focus, and the link between me and the behemoth snapped.

The monstrosity twitched violently, unmoored from my command. The skull’s high-pitched wail lit every nerve in my body with agony. Meanwhile, the giant bones flailed in an uncontrolled rage, smashing into pillars, pounding the ground in frenzy. The floor rattled dangerously beneath me.

I tried to reassert control, but I could barely see through the white-hot haze of pain. The shriek of the runes in my forearm sent me down to my hands and knees. Blood dripped from my nose, spattering onto the stone.

“No,” I hissed, my voice shredded by anguish.

At last, the binding spell shattered altogether. The behemoth froze mid-swipe, then fell apart into a clattering downpour of femurs and ribs. I raised an arm to shield my face, but a stray ribstruck my shoulder. The guard’s skull rolled across the floor, its glowing torment extinguished.

I couldn’t move. The agony was so immense it tugged me under, making my muscles spasm. And then, in the depths of the agony, I saw something.

Not a memory. A vast, endless darkness, deeper than night, older than time. Within it, shapes moved—or perhaps the darkness itself moved, forming patterns that hurt to look upon. And at its center, something waited. Something ancient.

Something hungry.

I gasped, and the vision vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

I retched, gagging on blood and bile. This was worse than anything I could recall in recent memory. I managed to pull myself to my feet. My legs nearly gave out, and I staggered toward the exit, leaning on the stones for support. The corridor outside was blissfully deserted, but I barely found the strength to care.

Halfway to the spiral staircase, my legs buckled again. My cheek smacked the cold wall, and I slid down, helpless.Shit.

“My lord?” Vex’s voice sounded from behind me. No. I wasn’t ready to be seen like this. I tried to stand, to straighten, but my body refused.

She reached me in two swift strides. Her expression was dread personified. “What happened?”

“Nothing… important,” I managed. Every syllable felt like razor-wire in my throat.

She glanced at the bone dust and blood staining my clothes, clearly unconvinced. “This isn’t nothing. I’m getting Griffin.”

“No.” I grabbed her wrist with what little strength I had left. “No one needs to know.”

“You can barely stand,” she argued.

“I don’t care,” I growled. The pounding in my skull threatened to crack me open. “Just help me to my study. That’s an order.”

She set her jaw, then hoisted my arm over her shoulders and hauled me up the winding staircase. I must’ve blacked out for a few steps because one moment we were in the corridor, and the next, I was slumped in my leather chair behind my desk, shaking so badly I could hardly breathe.

“Sit still,” she warned, pressing her palm to my forehead. “You’re burning up.”

I tried to focus on her words, but the runes seared my arm again. I glimpsed that dark vision, the swirling mass of hungry shadows, beckoning me. I nearly passed out.

Vex shook me, and her voice sounded distant. “—with me.”

I forced my eyes open. “I’m fine,” I hissed, though it was far from any rational definition of ‘fine.’

“I’ll grab you something for the pain,” she insisted, dashing to the cabinet where I stored certain potions.

I gestured vaguely, my breath coming too fast. “Blue vial. Third shelf.”

She pressed the draught into my hand, and I downed it in a single gulp. It burned on its way down my throat, but the relief followed swiftly. The savage edge dulled to a tolerable throb.

“You can go,” I gasped when I could speak again.

Vex lingered, probably about to insist on calling Griffin anyway.

“I saidgo.”

Her lips thinned. “As you wish, my lord. But killing yourself solves nothing.” Then she slipped out the door.

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