Page 79 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

“If only he’d joined us instead of ‘inspecting the new recruits’, he might have avoided such misfortune.”

The sound of rapid footsteps drew our attention to the stairway. A moment later, Arabella emerged, looking irritated. Nyx bounded after her, emitting little chirps.

“Lady Blackrose,” I said, all smooth courtesy. “We’re in the midst of a... recreational session.”

Her gaze moved from my face to the gore-smeared club in my hand, then to the table of eyeballs. “You’re playing some horrific version of golf?”

Griffin offered a bright grin. “Indeed! Care to join?”

She stiffened, flicking a nervous glance at Griffin. Something in her expression warned me she’d prefer not to speak freely in front of him. “I need to speak with you,” she insisted. “Privately.”

I raised the club as if I might continue. “Surely it can wait until I’ve trounced Griffin.”

“It can’t,” she pressed, stepping forward to snare my full attention. Her voice dropped. “Please.”

Her “please” disarmed me. Arabella rarely begged, which meant it was serious. Before I could respond, Nyx lurched into a wheezing hack. We all turned, and with a final gag, the dragon retched up… something small, bloody, and disturbingly furry onto the parapet stones.

Griffin’s face whitened. “Whisper?” he croaked. “My new familiar?”

Arabella looked guilt-stricken. “I tried to stop her, but Nyx—she just?—”

“Is a dragon,” I supplied, amused by the scene. “And I suspect your precious new fox offended her palate.”

Griffin knelt, mouth slack in mingled grief and fascination. “The enchantment is gone. Months of binding effort, undone.” He sighed like a man who’d lost not just a pet, but a fraction of his soul.

Arabella knelt too, remorse twisting her features. “I’m so sorry, Griffin. I’ll replace it or make it right somehow.”

An unwelcome jolt of jealousy sparked under my ribs. “No, you won’t,” I said, the words coming out sharper than I intended. “I’ll see to Griffin’s compensation. I had the dragon brought here. Which means it’s my responsibility in the end.”

Arabella slid me a startled but grateful look. Something in my chest warmed.

Griffin stood, eyeing the soggy remains. “I... appreciate that, my lord.”

“Now,” I said briskly, “resume your turn, if you please.”

He picked out another eyeball but did so with less enthusiasm.

Arabella stared at me incredulously. “That’s it? You’re just going to continue with...”

“A team-building exercise,” Sims supplied helpfully.

A spark of curiosity flickered in Arabella’s eyes, though she tried to hide it. “It’s barbaric.”

I shrugged. “These particular eyeballs belonged to people who would have happily seen both of us dead. Consider it recycling.”

“Very sustainable villainy,” Vex added with a straight face.

Griffin made his shot, and the eyeball landed perfectly, drawing a somewhat half-hearted whoop from him. Normally, that would have infuriated me. At present, I was too focused on how Arabella’s cloak shifted to reveal the hollow at the base of her throat.

“Want to try?” I asked, offering her my club.

Arabella exhaled. “Maybe I should get Nyx back downstairs.”

I arched a brow. “Afraid you can’t match my skill? I realize not everyone has the aptitude for this game. It requires a certain finesse.”

She stiffened, hazel eyes sparking. “Give me that club.”

I passed it to her. “The secret to a perfect shot is in the follow-through”—I leaned in—”and a bit of control.”

---