Page 66 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

“Like kidnapping?” she shot back, a mischievous edge to her voice.

The corner of my mouth tugged upward. “You were being… spirited.”

“I was trying to kill you.”

I tapped the spot on my throat where she’d pressed that blade in our initial scuffle. “I’ve developed a nice scar. I rather like it.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite suppress her smile. The wind battered her hair across her face, and she shoved it back with a huff.

We’d moved past the aphrodisiac incident a few days ago, though she’d made it absolutely clear I was not forgiven. Arabella had cornered me at breakfast the next morning to deliver a comprehensive dissertation on trust and respect, during which I’d maintained my most remorseful expression while secretly admiring her command of creative insults.

At the far edge of the bridge, the Portal Isle shimmered into view—a perfect circle of stone, dotted with seven ancient arches, each carved with runes that pulsed at different intervals. I felt the platform’s hum beneath my boots; it was always surreal, the way magic vibrated here.

I moved to the eastern arch, letting my fingertips trail across its cool carvings. “Each portal is keyed to a fixed destination. Some are public knowledge—the route to the markets, for instance.” I indicated the archway in front of us. “Others remain exclusive. With all of them, only those who have the necessary tokens can pass, just like the lightning bridges.”

Arabella folded her arms over her chest. “But you and I don’t use tokens for the bridges.”

“AndIdon’t need them for the portals,” I replied, injecting just a hint of smugness into my voice.

She tilted her head, incredulous. “You think if I had access, I’d jump through one at random just to escape?”

“No,” I said, fighting off a smile. “You’re far too cunning for that, and if you were going to flee, you wouldn’t announce it beforehand.”

No denial came from her, only a pensive silence. Triumph flickered through me. I activated the portal with a spark of dominion magic, the archway filling with a rippling veil of shadow laced with silver.

“After you, Lady Blackrose.” I gestured with an exaggerated bow.

She eyed me warily, then squared her shoulders. “If I end up in a dungeon somewhere, I’ll make you regret it.”

A low laugh escaped me, darker than I intended. “Is that a promise? Because I can imagine some very entertaining ways for you to seek vengeance.”

She flushed at that, but didn’t look away. Her defiance made my pulse quicken. With a final glare, she stepped through the black-and-silver veil, and I followed instantly, feeling the portal’s icy pressure crush me before releasing me on the other side.

Blinking away the frost clinging to my eyelashes, I saw a clearing of ancient pines. Dawn touched the horizon, bathing everything in a pale glow. I drew a breath, my chest stinging from the abrupt change in air pressure.

Arabella stood a short distance away, clutching at a tree trunk and blinking as though the ground had wobbled under her feet. “Breathe, it helps,” I said, dusting a little frost from my sleeve. “The disorientation passes.”

She glared at me pointedly but followed my advice. Her cheeks were tinged with cold. “You could’ve warned me about that,” she said.

“And miss a chance to see you off-kilter?” I countered with mock innocence. “Never.”

I waved toward a distant ridge. “We’re at the northern edge of Arvoryn Pass. Morana’s territory lies just beyond those hills.”

Branches snapped behind me, and I turned to see Thorne stepping forward with a string of horses. “Lord Blackrose, Lady Blackrose,” he said, handing over the reins. “Compliments of Viscountess Morana.”

I almost snorted at that. Morana’s hospitality was typically laced with daggers. But as I turned to Arabella, I found her entire demeanor brightening. She reached for the reins of a sturdy bay mare, her hand gliding over the saddle’s seat.

“I insisted on no side-saddles.”

She glanced at me while she stroked the mare’s neck. “You remembered.”

I forced a casual shrug. “I prefer efficiency, that’s all. Can’t have you breaking your neck on the way there.” I stepped in to help Arabella mount, though she hardly needed the assistance. My fingers lingered on her calf, pressing lightly into the supple leather. She gasped, just barely audible, and a spark of satisfaction crackled through me in response.

“I half expected you to insist I ride with you,” she said, reins in hand.

A lazy smile spread across my face. “Is that something you’d prefer?”

“No,” she said a little too quickly. “Not at all.”

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