Page 86 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

She flicked a glance at me. “Couldn’t sleep.” She bit her lip.

I snorted softly. “Maybe I should’ve slipped you another aphrodisiac-laced dinner. That worked wonders for knocking you out last time.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not remotely funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” I muttered, tossing the towel aside.

She exhaled. “You look pensive.”

“I’ve had a long, bloody night.”

“I’m glad you’re not hurt,” she said softly.

Something in my chest tightened at that. Vague, unexpected gratitude. I turned to her. “Why are you really awake?”

Arabella hesitated. “I was just thinking about a reversal spell from our last training session. How I can’t grasp the exact feeling.”

I studied her face. “Most novices struggle with the concept, not the sensation. You’re sure that’s it?”

She gave a quick, tight smile. “I’m not most novices.”

“No,” I said, softening my voice, “you’re not.”

We stood there for a few heartbeats. Whatever she concealed behind that deflection, I let it be. “Do you want me to show you?” I asked. “It’s easier than explaining it.”

Her cautious reply came after a brief pause. “All right.”

I extended my hand, palm up. “Give me your hand.”

She placed her hand in mine, and for the slightest moment I savored the warmth of her skin. “Close your eyes,” I murmured.

She complied, her lashes dark against her cheeks. Vulnerable. Trusting.

“Magic normally bleeds outward from the caster, but reversal changes the direction.” I let a gentle thread of magic slip along the connection between our hands.

She inhaled, lips parting in surprise. “That feels…”

“I know.” I kept my voice low. “Now send it back.”

The air hummed around us as she tried to redirect it. After a moment, the faint golden threads of her power mingled with my shadow, swirling around our clasped hands. Even her hair responded, drifting on the magical current.

“Good,” I murmured. “Now, we add complexity.”

I introduced more structured patterns, letting her sense how each current layered over another. She not only replicated them but added her own flourish, twisting the magic in a way that sent a jolt of exhilaration through me. The energy connecting us flared with shifting lights and swirling darkness. The temperature dipped and then rose again as the wards in the chamber reacted.

Stepping closer, I let more of my power flow into her. She gasped and grabbed my chest with her free hand to steady herself. Sparks crackled, tiny arcs of gold dancing among the black haze that enveloped us.

“Too much?” I asked, unable to hide my grin.

She shook her head, voice unsteady. “No... I—this is... educational.”

I traced a slow circle on her palm, feeling the ripple in our magical bond. Shadows pooled around our feet, thickening and thinning with every shared breath. “Open your eyes, Arabella.”

When she did, our gazes locked. My pulse pounded. Her power felt more attuned to me than I’d expected—less a forced exchange and more a collaboration. It wasn’t just about harnessing her to activate the Heirloom. I wanted to see her unleash every ounce of her potential.

“It’s not only about redirecting magic,” I said quietly. “It’s about transforming it. Taking something meant for one purpose and shifting it.”

I brushed a loose strand of hair away from her forehead. “Destruction becomes creation. Pain becomes pleasure. Hatred becomes...”

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