Page 137 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

I nodded at Griffin. “Yes, rather.”

Arabella glanced between us. “Are you saying Auremar knows about the Heirloom?”

“Perhaps. But likely it’s because of the message I sent with the last spy,” I explained, watching her reaction carefully.

“What message?”

“The captain’s head,” Griffin offered helpfully, then flinched under my glare.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “An unmistakable declaration that his plans for you didn’t amuse me.”

She pressed her lips tight. “Now the Guild is after us. A sterling example of your diplomacy.”

“Would you rather I’d returned you to Auremar?” My voice dipped velvet-soft, dangerous. “Maybe place a ribbon around your neck?”

“Of course not,” she snapped. “But there’s a lot of space between ‘do nothing’ and sending severed heads as invitations.”

Griffin tried to suppress a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

I moved on, ignoring both her cutting sarcasm and Griffin’s poorly disguised amusement. “We have to fortify the Heirloom’s power before the Guild marches on us.”

“And how exactly do we do that?”

“We figure out how to maintain our bond,” I said, stepping close enough that her annoyance radiated off her, warm and electric. “Our connection influences the Heirloom’s stability. The more ‘out of sync’ we are, the weaker it gets.”

She chewed her bottom lip.

“I don’t mean repeating what caused the last explosion,” I clarified, “but your strategy of keeping away from me isn’t going to solve anything.”

Her eyes sparked with anger. “My ‘strategy,’ as you call it, is caution. You make it sound like a ploy to undermine you.”

“You vanish whenever I appear,” I said grimly, “bending your schedule to avoid me.”

“I’m being careful,” she shot back. “We already have enough tension. Adding more physical contact on top of it is asking for disaster.”

“You’re afraid,” I said, voice low. “But not of magic. You’re afraid of this.” I gestured between us. “It’s not about my pain or the Heirloom, but about how I make you feel.”

She scoffed.

“The second I step near you, your breath catches,” I continued. “You flush. You can’t hold my gaze longer than a few seconds.” My heart thumped as I watched her stubborn defiance. “You insist you need space because of the Heirloom, but you’re lying to yourself.”

Color crept up her neck, yet she stepped closer even as she struggled to keep her eyes locked on mine. “Am I? All our interactions have revolved around your quest for the Heirloom’s power. What else am I supposed to think?”

I closed the distance, lifting her chin so she had to look me in the eye. “Use your truth-sense. Tell me if I’m lying when I say you’re more than a key to my power.”

She inhaled, and I sensed her gift activate, that subtle shift in her gaze as she weighed my words. Irritation, confusion, and desire flashed through her eyes.

“You’re not as immune as you pretend,” I added softly. “I’m not immune to you, either. The difference is: I’m not running from it.”

Her voice shook. “I don’t run.”

“No?” I arched an eyebrow. “How would you define that abrupt exit you attempted just now?”

“Strategic retreat,” she said stiffly.

I felt an uninvited urge to grin. Then I spotted movement behind her. Vex appeared in the doorway, surveying the courtyard with one brow raised. She spotted Griffin, who gave her a hesitant nod, and joined us.

“My lord,” Vex greeted, stepping closer. “More border reports arrived. The Hero’s Guild is moving faster than expected.”

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