Page 134 of Blade of the Nightking

As though answering something in me—or perhaps in him—a whorl of ink stirred beneath my gaze. It curled slowly up the strong column of his throat, traced the line of his jaw, then swept across his cheekbone toward his temple.

His bargain mark.

My pulse lurched as my magic awakened, rushing hot through my veins. It reached for him at once, drawn to the vast well of power within him.

Too close. And not close enough.

The urge struck without warning—to reach out, to close the distance, to touch…

I locked my arms at my sides, but the heat only grew. It blazed at my core until faint light shimmered into existence between us, stretching across the narrow space that separated our bodies. Silver caught along the edge of his face.

I was glowing.

Another crack of lightning split the chamber—and for a heartbeat, the silver in his eyes brightened in answer.

He dipped his head slightly.

“Step. Back. Twist. Push.” His voice was a low rumble of thunder.

Before I could make sense of the words, he moved. One hand seized my wrist, the other my shoulder as he pivoted sharply. My spine collided with his chest, his arm locking across my collarbones, trapping me with my back flush against him.

My magic flared wildly in response to the contact, my body going rigid as I felt the solid press of him at my back, his powerful forearm braced across me.

I was suddenly aware of everything.

Every point of contact. The hard press of his body. The steady warmth of him through the thin barrier of my clothing.

No. This wasn't happening.

I jerked against his hold, desperate to wrench free.

The more I struggled, the tighter his grip became, locking me against him with infuriating ease. I had to get away. I had to calm whatever his presence was doing to my magic—to me.

His voice vibrated through his chest and up my spine. “Step.” The word barely carried over the storm battering the windows, but the command in it stopped me.

Was he... guiding me?

Yesterday, there had been nothing—no instruction, no hint. Only impact after impact until I either learned or failed. But this... this was different. He was giving me something.

A clue. A kindness, if such a thing were possible from the Dark Prince. And a concession like this could only mean one thing.

Levinica was improving.

I bit down on my lip, smothering the smile before it could surface as I fought the sudden lift in my chest.

“Step,” he repeated gruffly, dragging me back into the moment.

I shifted forward, testing it—I could only manage a small step, barely enough to carve out the slightest sliver of space between us. The movement cinched his forearm across me, pressing higher, closer to my throat.

“Back,” he instructed.

I hesitated, thinking it through. My weight had shifted forward. My back leg was free, which meant…

Before I could decide, his foot nudged mine, firm and impatient. I followed the direction, stepping backward along the angle he set between us. My back pressed tight against his chest once more, sending another rush of heat through me.

“Further.”

I adjusted, settling deeper into the stance, my back leg wedging between his as my balance shifted. Just slightly, but enough to feel it. Different. Stronger. Like I could finally brace against him.