Page 43 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

Eventually, we stopped in front of a colossal door made of dark, iron-banded wood. Crimson runes—similar to the ones I’d seen etched into Kazimir’s skin—glowed along the surface.

Vex gestured toward the door. “This is where I leave you. Only Lord Blackrose and you are keyed to these wards. Anyone else is considered an intruder.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Not even his trusted advisor gets an exception?”

She gave a half-shrug. “If I tried to pass now, the wards would disintegrate me, or worse.” She nodded toward the door. “Place your palm on the center. The runes should recognize you as Lady Blackrose.”

“And if they don’t?” I asked.

“I’ll have the unpleasant duty of telling Lord Blackrose that his brand-new bride got reduced to cinders.” Her tone was drier than desert bones. When my eyes widened, she sighed. “I’m joking. The wards will probably just reject you. Now hurry.”

“Your sense of humor fits this fortress.” I pressed my palm gently to the door. The runes flared, bathing my skin in thatsame ruddy glow. A tingling sensation buzzed across my hand, and then with an almost polite shift, the door swung inward on silent hinges.

Vex stepped back. “Good luck,” she offered, then turned on her heel and vanished back into the corridor.

I entered a spacious chamber with a vaulted ceiling at least thirty feet high. Braziers lined the walls, filling the area with a warm light that somehow didn’t chase away the deep shadows clinging to every corner.

The floor was marked with a large circle of runes that pulsed with a soft, blue-white glow. Kazimir Blackrose himself stood at the center of that circle. He guided a sword through a series of fluid, precise motions while strands of darkness curled around his free hand like serpents waiting to strike. I nearly stopped breathing. He moved with lethal grace, a choreographed blend of physical prowess and magical menace. And—because of course the universe hated me—he was shirtless. Sweat gleamed along each etched muscle and every rune carved into his chest.

For a moment, I just stared. The swirl of shadows around him made an almost hypnotic display of threat and power. Suddenly, he spun and launched a bolt of raw shadow right at my face. I instinctively raised my arms, but the darkness broke apart inches from my skin, dissolving into faint wisps of cold air.

“You’re late,” he said, lowering his arm. The sword vanished into nothingness, as though it had never existed.

I worked to steady my breathing. “Vex brought me at the agreed time.”

“That time was half an hour ago.” He retrieved a simple black tunic from a wooden bench. I tried not to watch his every lean muscle disappear beneath the fabric. “I expected more enthusiasm.”

“It was ten minutes at most,” I argued, stepping forward while the door to the chamber clicked shut behind me. “I bet you told Vex to wait on purpose. You do love asserting dominance.”

He made a neutral sound, not quite a denial.

“Was the sword part of your dramatic ‘greeting’ too?” I asked, nodding at the spot where it had vanished.

“It was my morning training,” he said. “Physical exertion pairs well with spellwork. One informs the other, keeps me sharp.”

I approached the circle’s edge. “So you’re all about synergy, then? Mind and body united, presumably for maximum destruction.”

He shrugged, that predatory glimmer never leaving his gaze. “Most definitely.” He extended a hand, inviting me deeper. “Step into the circle, Arabella.”

My nerves lit up in a flustered combination of annoyance and something hotter. So far, he’d mostly stuck to “Lady Blackrose” or “wife.” Hearing my name in that melodic baritone stirred memories of his lips crushing mine.

I tried not to shiver as I asked, “What exactly is on the agenda today? Summoning an army of the damned, turning your enemies to frogs?”

“That all sounds fun, but first, I intend to discover what you’re truly capable of.” Kazimir’s gaze held a raw, waiting hunger that unsettled me.

I breathed in slowly and stepped inside the circle. The runes flared bright azure, humming with a contained crackle of energy. The air tasted charged, like the moment right before lightning forks across the sky.

“What exactly is this space?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

“A focus chamber,” he said, standing so close I felt warmth radiating from his body. “If something misfires, the damage stays inside these boundaries, protecting the rest of the citadel.”

“Because you’d rather not blow up your whole fortress?”

“Correct.” He allowed a small, wry smile. “Though Griffin tries his best to circumvent every safeguard I create.”

I glanced around, taking in the vaulted ceiling. “Why exactly do you keep him employed?”

“I value brilliance more than caution, and Griffin’s results—when they succeed—are impressive.” He let his gaze drift over me in a way that sizzled more than the runes. “Speaking of brilliance, what magical education did you have in Solandris?”

---