Page 162 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

“That wasn’t distraction, that was torture,” I said, though I didn’t pull away as his fingers traced the edge of my plunging neckline. “And don’t pretend it was strategic. You’re suffering as much as I am.”

His eyes darkened. “Perhaps I am,” he admitted, voice dropping even lower. “Perhaps I’ve been thinking about how many ways I could touch you without breaking our restrictions. Maybe I’ve been lying awake cataloging every inch of you I could taste without triggering the Heirloom’s wrath.”

The tension rose again, a magnetic pull I nearly gave in to, until footsteps echoed around the corner. Kazimir seized that moment, pressing his lips to mine in a swift, heated kiss right as a servant passed by. My breath caught in my throat, and I waited for some punishing blast of magic to slam me for ignoring the Heirloom’s delicate condition. But none came.

The servant scurried past, clearly trying not to stare. I glared at Kazimir once I could breathe again, voice lowered to a ferocious whisper. “You’re an insufferable bastard.”

He showed me a wicked grin. “Everything’s fair in love and war, Lady Blackrose.” Then he offered his arm with that smug, gallant formality. “Shall we retire? We’ll need our wits tomorrow.”

I slipped my hand onto his arm, not sure if I wanted to slap him or kiss him harder. As we strode toward our chambers, my mind spun with the memory of the words he’d let slip.

Love and war.

He’d said it so easily. And deep in my chest, I recognized something fierce: if he was indeed a villain, then he was my villain, fury and all. Let Zaraiah choke on her regret.

64

DEFEND YOUR “RESEARCH” WITH LEGAL JARGON (AND OCCASIONAL VIOLENCE)

KAZIMIR

The next morning, I strode into the Chamber of Accords with Arabella at my side, my hand resting possessively at the small of her back. The bone-carved chairs and the austere emptiness of the room reminded me why I rarely used it—no one came to Skyspire to negotiate. They came to beg or to die. The Syndicate, of course, would do neither.

At least not today.

Witchlights were already lit when I entered, revealing the towering walls draped in my crest, black roses entwined around a bleeding sword. The high-backed chairs formed a circle in the center, each carved from bone and etched with runes of power. I noted that the Syndicate representatives were already seated, which irritated me. In my domain, they should have waited for me to arrive.

Zaraiah sat directly opposite my seat, her crimson gown an arrogant slash of color against the pale chair. The Alchemist occupied a seat to her right, those restless fingers forever twitching. Lady Vespera sat to Zaraiah’s left, and the other three Syndicate members filled in around them.

“Lord and Lady Blackrose,” Zaraiah greeted, voice soft as a blade sliding from its sheath. “We’re honored you could join us.”

I ignored her sarcasm and guided Arabella to the seat at my right. I settled into my own with calculated leisure. This was no mere chair made of bones, but a larger, more elaborate creation that creaked faintly beneath me. The shadows at my feet rippled in response to my mood.

“I trust Skyspire provided you with a suitable night’s rest,” I said lightly. “Some guests find the nightmares fade after a few days.”

Lady Vespera inclined her head. “The accommodations were... adequate. Though the magical turbulence proved somewhat disruptive.”

That was her opening jab. I leaned back, offering her a pointedly casual smile. “Renovations. Hardly worth the fuss.”

“Renovations,” the Alchemist echoed, clearly unimpressed.

Arabella sat still as stone beside me. We’d agreed to reveal nothing about the Heirloom or our plans to manipulate the ley lines. The Syndicate didn’t deserve such knowledge.

“My magical experiments are purely personal,” I said, letting steel sharpen my voice. “Unless you’re volunteering to serve as test subjects?”

Lady Vespera’s delicate bone hairpins caught the glow of the witchlights as she leaned forward. “When those personal pursuits threaten the balance the Syndicate maintains, we are forced to take notice. Your activities have raised alarms.”

“And here I thought the Syndicate cared only for collective interests,” I replied. “I didn’t realize my private research warranted such vigilant nursemaids.”

“Your actions reflect on all of us, Kazimir,” Zaraiah said. “When you unleash magical bursts visible from three kingdoms away, you force us all under undesired scrutiny.”

I clamped down on a twinge of annoyance. If they preferred a subtle sorcerer, they shouldn’t have allied with a fucking Dark Lord. “If you’re concerned about prying eyes,” I said icily, “perhaps you should examine Lady Vespera’s so-called expansions.”

Vespera’s eyes narrowed. “That operation was sanctioned by a unanimous Syndicate vote. We’re here because your abrupt surges in dominion magic coincide with this sudden marriage, and we need to determine if you’re weaponizing something beyond our control.”

Arabella shifted, drawing their collective stares. Calmly, she said, “Is there a question in there? Or do you simply enjoy insinuations?”

The Alchemist’s thin lips curled up in delight. “I do like her. But yes, Lady Blackrose, we do have questions, starting with the nature of your magical bond to His Supreme Darkness.”

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