Page 176 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

Arabella gasped, and together we plunged. A desperate shout lodged in my throat as I summoned a void portal, ignoring the red-hot pain that tore across my carved runes. Instead of splattering thousands of feet below, we dropped into a swirling darkness and emerged on the gate tower’s stone floor. Our landing was awkward and jarring, but at least we were alive.

She stumbled into me. “What the hell was that?” she managed.

“Emergency protocol,” I snapped, not at her but at the entire fiasco. “The bridges shut down if there’s a threat.”

No time to explain further—we broke into a run again. Something or someone had triggered a major assault. I yanked on the psychic tether to my shadow warriors, summoning them upward, but they’d need precious seconds to converge inside the citadel.

We skidded around a corner and nearly bowled over a Hero’s Guild soldier in shining armor. Shock flashed across his face. Clearly, he hadn’t expected me to appear out of nowhere. I reacted faster. A burst of shadows snapped around his throat, and the soldier died before he could cry out.

Arabella’s breathing hitched, but she stayed focused. We kept going. Alarm bells rang in my head at the distant clang of steel and the crackle of spells echoing through the citadel’s halls. The fortress had been breached. My domain, my stronghold, violated.

We nearly ran straight into Vex. She had a vicious gash on her cheek and dried blood crusting the front of her tunic. She sucked in a breath upon seeing us.

“My lord,” she rasped. “Lady Blackrose. At least a hundred from the Hero’s Guild. They used the emergency ascension platforms.”

I wanted to snarl. We’d installed those platforms so that our people could evacuate in a disaster, never for an enemy to exploit. Only a handful of people knew they existed, and fewer still knew how to activate them. “They’re after the Heirloom,” I stated coldly. “And Arabella.”

“Yes,” Vex replied, picking up her pace. “They seem to think they can seize both.”

Fury lanced through me. I swore I’d find whoever leaked that information, then string them up. “Where are our people?”

“Thorne’s holding the gate tower. Griffin’s holed up in his workshop—I last saw him heading that way. Sims is…” She hesitated, her voice trembling. “He’s dead.”

A cold ball of anger hardened in my gut. Irritating as Sims was, he belonged to me. And now he was gone because these fools marched in with their self-righteous illusions.

We tore around another bend and slammed into three more knights. The one in front roared, raising a sword. My shadows lashed out. His eyes bulged when I severed his hand. A second knight conjured a golden shield, only to have my darkness swirl behind it and slice through his unprotected flank. He collapsed with a strangled groan.

The third, a robed mage, began chanting to dispel my illusions. She almost succeeded, but I lunged forward and wrapped a hand around her throat, cutting the incantation short. “Who let you in?” I growled.

She spat out a curse. “Go to hell,” she rasped.

I tightened my grip until I felt her windpipe give way. She crumpled to the floor, lifeless. Arabella stepped past me without comment, not a shred of revulsion in her expression. I hardly had time to register my own grim satisfaction before we raced ahead. Besides my wife, the Heirloom was the greatest prize in these walls, and that was where the Guild must have been headed.

As we passed the war room, I saw the doors flung wide, half a dozen Guild soldiers ransacking my maps. They spotted us, and one with a commander’s insignia beckoned Arabella with an almost triumphant gleam.

“Lady Evenfall! We’ve come to re?—”

“It’s Lady Blackrose,” she said fiercely. “And I didn’t ask for rescue.”

That final word dripped with contempt. My temper flared anew. Enough. With a flick of my hands, I unleashed a wave of blackness that blanketed the room in stuttering gloom. Cries of alarm erupted as they stumbled into illusions among swirling shadows.

One knight bore down on me with a flaming sword. I sidestepped, thrusting a conjured blade into his back. Another two harried Vex, but she twirled away with nimble efficiency, twin daggers gleaming. A final knight rushed Arabella, only to be blasted by a bolt of blazing gold magic. He fell, armor smoking.

Their commander tried to call for a retreat, but I appeared behind him before he could rally. He whirled, sword swinging, scraping my swirling darkness. My hand morphed into razortalons, slicing him wide open. His armor parted like paper. He dropped, mouth agape in silent horror.

The silence afterward was punctuated by labored breathing. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the fierce burn in my runes. We had to keep going. We had to secure the Heirloom. Vex turned toward me, probably to await orders, but at that moment a searing pressure exploded behind my eyes.

Something ancient and ravenous twisted in my mind. The same presence I’d felt before, biting into my consciousness with frenzied hunger. My runes erupted in agony, and I let out a raw, choking cry. The world pitched, pain shredding every nerve. I couldn’t see, couldn’t hold on.

Vaguely, I heard Arabella shouting my name. Then everything receded into darkness.

70

DISCOVER HER DARK SIDE (AND ADMIT YOU LIKE IT)

ARABELLA

I watched in horror as Kazimir collapsed at my feet, every inch of his body jerking like he’d been struck by a vengeful god. A scream ripped up his throat—an animalistic wail so raw that I wanted to clap my hands over my ears. The runes etched across his skin flared violet-black, pulsing uncontrollably.

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