Page 87 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

I trailed off, suddenly unwilling to finish the thought.

Her soft whisper reached me. “Becomes what?”

Instead of answering, I pushed the energy deeper, intensifying the surge between us. She leaned into me, eyes closed again, expression caught between shock and excitement. We both felt it when her power melded with mine, altering its dark current and reshaping it with that subtle, life-infused signature that was so undeniably hers. The result poured into me with an electric jolt. The shadows spiraled out, shattering a nearby vase. Neither of us cared.

“Perfect,” I said, my voice strained. I traced another circle on her palm, savoring the lingering connection between us. “You made it your own before returning it. That’s advanced work, Arabella.”

For an instant, pride lit her features. Then caution slipped back in, and she tore her hand away. The connection severedwith the sound of a thunderclap, leaving the two of us panting in a dark, ordinary room.

Annoyed at the loss of that moment, I watched how she tried to steady her breathing. I wasn’t any calmer myself.

Wordlessly, we performed the usual bedtime dance. She set up her pillow barrier on the bed, an oddly quaint defense after we’d just shared raw, unfiltered power. But I was too wrung out to fight it. I dropped my pants and slipped under the covers on my side, turned on my elbow to watch her silhouette. The hearth’s last embers cast ruddy highlights across her hair.

A thousand impulses crawled along my skin. I wanted to tell her about the warded tower, how my fury scorched my reason the moment I saw those runes. But the words jammed in my throat.

Instead, I asked, “What are you thinking?”

She turned to face me, propping herself on an elbow in a mirror of my position. “That reversal exercise… I’ve never felt magic that… intrusive. Like it was changing me.”

I moved one of the pillows so I could see her properly. “Reversal demands a high level of trust. That alone feels personal. You’re not just shaping external magic—you’re letting it shape you a little, too.”

She frowned. “That sounds dangerous.”

“With the wrong partner, it is,” I said, letting the admission hang between us. “Dark magic doesn’t lie. It forces us to face the cost of power. Some people can’t handle that.”

“And what price have you paid?” she asked quietly.

The question struck closer to home than she could know. The runes on my skin. The isolation. The years of believing power was the only thing that mattered. “More than I anticipated,” I admitted. “Less than I feared.”

She seemed to understand it wasn’t a full answer, but also that it was all I could offer. “We should sleep,” she said.

I replaced the pillow between us. “Sleep well, Arabella.”

“Goodnight, Lord Blackrose.”

I shut my eyes and willed myself to sink into oblivion. Instead, thoughts of that tower, of Lord Evenfall’s wretched runes, and of how I’d felt compelled to kill in her name roiled through my mind. The moment I realized I cared less about strategy and more about ensuring she never suffered that prison again... that shook me thoroughly.

Her voice drifted in the darkness. “Still awake?”

“Yes.”

I tried not to let the silence linger too long. “I was thinking about your training,” I said. “We might need to expand on your offensive capabilities.”

She turned, moving the pillow again. “I thought we were focusing on controlling my existing powers.”

“We were. You proved you can handle it. But I think you should learn shadow manipulation. If you can heal, you know how life works. That same knowledge can be used to hurt.”

I heard her sharp inhalation. “I’m not sure I want to turn healing into a weapon.”

I let out a low laugh. “Don’t you? Darkness suits you more than you admit.”

“I’ll think about it,” she promised.

Satisfied, I settled back. “Good. Now get some sleep.”

Arabella reached for the pillow but paused, her hand hovering in midair. After a moment, she withdrew it, deliberately leaving the gap between us.

As the last ember winked out and her breathing grew steady with sleep, I felt something crack inside me. Arabella had no idea how wild my anger ran whenever I imagined her father’s cruelty. The Dark Lord wasn’t supposed to feel protective or tender, yet here I was, wanting to shield her from nightmares she didn’t even know I was fighting.

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