Page 35 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

“You’re certain it’s not me?” she asked, voice quiet but steady.

I halted, facing her. “Yes.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Memories of the test results pricked the back of my mind, reminding me how dangerously strong her magical synchronicity was with mine. I wasn’t sure if telling her would be wise, or if it’d simply give her more leverage. “Let’s say the resonance was… unusually high,” I allowed. “Stronger than expected. You’re not the issue.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re still withholding something.”

I glanced toward the artifact again. “I am. But I don’t have time for that now.” I needed to gather my thoughts before throwing more revelations at her. I’d forced her into this marriage to begin with, and now I might need more from her than originally planned.

Before she could press me, Griffin cleared his throat near the workbench. “Lord Blackrose, I did a quick inspection. The artifact isn’t damaged. All core enchantments are intact. It’s just…” He grimaced. “Dormant.”

“Meaning?” I demanded, coming up behind him.

“It’s waiting for something,” he said hesitantly. “I—I can’t say what. But it’s not broken.”

“That’s all you’ve got?” I slammed a fist onto the bench. Griffin and the Heirloom both jumped.

“Lord Blackrose,” Arabella said softly.

I whipped around, ready to snap, but her expression wasn’t mocking. I saw no pity either, just a detached understanding, as if she recognized what it felt like to have an entire future dangle just out of reach. My frustration hissed in my bloodstream, but I forced myself not to lash out at her.

I closed my eyes for a moment, exhaling. “Fuck,” I muttered, which was not the eloquent statement I’d planned, but it summed things up nicely.

Griffin sagged with relief as I unclenched my fists. I fixed him with a cold look. “Stay here and study this worthless hunkof metal. Thorne will guard Lady Blackrose. No accidents, no explosions. I might still need her if we ever figure this out.”

My voice came out sharper than intended, but I had no restraint left to soften it. Arabella bristled, her eyes flicking to Griffin and then back to me with the beginnings of a glare.

I turned on my heel and stalked out of the chamber. My mind churned with half-formed curses at every ancient scholar who’d written about the ritual. I was already strategizing how I’d resurrect each of them, only to kill them again for writing incomplete directions. Whatever was missing, I had to find it—and fast.

After all, I’d already married her. I refused to accept that it was all for nothing.

16

TELL FAIRY TALES TO VILLAINS (THEY’RE SURPRISINGLY GOOD LISTENERS)

ARABELLA

The echo of Kazimir’s rage mingled with the residual magic in the air. His parting words still rattled around my head:I might still need her.Every syllable dug sharp edges under my skin. In that moment, it was hard not to picture myself as a half-failed experiment lying on his workroom table.

Griffin and Thorne watched me as if I might shatter. I tried to look bored, and not as if my existence in the citadel had just been called into question.

“He really didn’t mean it quite like that,” Griffin said gently, hunched over his workbench. “The Dark Lord gets… intense when plans fail.”

I couldn’t help a dry laugh. “I noticed. How many people has he executed for disappointments like this?”

When Griffin and Thorne exchanged uneasy glances, I sighed. “Filling me with confidence here.”

“He rarely kills useful… assets,” Griffin offered, wincing at his own words.

Ignoring the unpleasant knot in my stomach, I moved closer to his table. On the cushion sat the object that supposedly causedall this trouble. The Heirloom of Dominion. Latent magic still clung to it.

“May I?” I asked, gesturing toward it.

Griffin hesitated only a second before nodding. I lifted the circlet, already half-convinced it would jolt me with eldritch lightning just to prove its worth. But it only felt cold and ordinary.

I turned it in my hands. A faint rose motif—thorns chasing thorns—twined around the inside. Worn with age, barely visible unless you held up to the light. “It’s… underwhelming,” I said at last.

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