Page 181 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

Despite that low glow of magic, I was bone-deep exhausted. When I tried coaxing some warmth out of my power, a pathetic flicker of flame sputtered in my cupped palms before dying. I had nothing left to give.

Through the bond, I sensed Kazimir like a distant echo. He was alive, but I couldn’t tell if he was angry, wounded, or both.Facing his wrath after completing the ritual alone wasn’t high on my list of desired activities.

A sharp screech tore through the howling wind. My heart lurched, and I struggled to stand, every muscle protesting. There, against the deepening twilight, I saw Nyx’s familiar silhouette, her dark wings spread wide as she circled overhead.

Relief hit me so hard I nearly collapsed back onto the rocky ground. Nyx landed in a crouch of thudding claws and nudged my hand, offering a hopeful puff of warm breath. Then her head snapped up, ears flattening as a low rumble vibrated in her chest.

Behind me, the air cracked open.

A portal flared, hissing violet sparks, and Kazimir stepped through. The instant his boots hit stone, that constant knot of emptiness lifted. Relief flooded me so intensely I had to drag in a breath just to keep my balance. Bloody cuts streaked his face, and the set of his jaw looked etched by pure exhaustion. He clutched one side as though it might come loose if he let go.

He looked wrecked. Terrible. And devastatingly beautiful.

“Arabella,” he rasped, voice rough with fatigue and something painfully raw.

“Took you long enough,” I managed. My usual snark wavered on cracked vocal cords.

The corner of his mouth slid into a faint twitch. “Traffic was hell. Too many idiot knights redecorating my corridors with their entrails.”

Then we collided. Maybe I moved first, maybe he did. His arms locked around me in a grip that felt less like possession and more like frantic relief, and I clung back like I needed his heartbeat to stay upright. Ours pounded together in a tangled, desperate rhythm.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured against my hair.

“And you’re bleeding,” I shot back, glaring at the gash above his brow. I braced for a lecture about me performing the ritual alone. But his storm-gray eyes just devoured me with undisguised relief, no anger at all.

I swallowed my own flood of emotions, pressing a trembling palm to his wound. “Hold still.” The trickle of magic I offered knitted the skin just enough to stop the bleeding. He inhaled sharply, gratitude flickering along our bond.

“Don’t waste your strength,” he muttered, his hand slipping to the back of my neck. His fingers shook as they tangled in my hair.

“It was never a waste.” Lifting my gaze, I whispered, “You came.”

A storm of feeling flickered over his face. “When the tower fell… I could barely sense you.” He swallowed, and the memory seemed to gouge into him. “I was… concerned.”

That small, raw confession shattered my remaining defenses. “I worried about you too,” I said softly.

We fell silent for a moment, overshadowed by everything undone—the fortress in rubble, the battle we’d survived, the risk we both took.

“Skyspire?” I finally managed.

His jaw clenched. “Mostly standing.” The ruthless edge in his voice suggested everything else had been handled with typical Kazimir viciousness. “The Guild survivors are contemplating their life choices in the dungeons. Lightbringer sends his regards.”

A cold ripple of satisfaction ran through me. “Good.”

Nyx pressed her nose against my shoulder, apparently bored of our emotional display. Kazimir’s arm tightened protectively around my waist as I swayed, exhaustion hitting me again.

“She led me here,” he said, nodding at Nyx.

I stroked the dragon’s snout. “Good girl.” Nyx responded with a faint, brimstone-scented huff.

Kazimir watched her warily, weariness etched into every line of his face. “You could’ve gone with them,” he said quietly. “Played the damsel.”

At the thought of going back to Solandris—isolated, caged—I felt a surge of nausea. Holding Kazimir’s gaze, I said, “I’d rather wrestle a kraken naked than live that life again.”

His grip on my hip tightened by a fraction. “So you choose Lady Blackrose?” The question landed like a challenge…and an invitation. He needed to hear me say it, I realized.

The name settled on me with a fierce sense of belonging. “I’m still figuring out the job description,” I admitted, “but yes. I choose this.”

Another violent gust of wind slammed into us, and I shivered. Wordlessly, Kazimir shrugged off his tattered coat and draped it over my shoulders. It smelled of him—of steel and shadow magic and old blood. I burrowed into it.

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