Page 159 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“You’re too soft.”

“I’m practical. Willing hostages are easier to manage than unwilling ones. I should know.”

By the time we got the family settled on the Sky Serpent—with Ferdinand in a reinforced cage that Nyx kept eyeing speculatively—full dark had fallen.

“One down,” Vex said, checking our list. “Seven more to go on this island alone.”

I was already calculating logistics. The Sky Serpent was big, but not that big. “We might need to make multiple trips.”

“Or,” Vex suggested, “we could try being actual villains and just take the ones we need.”

I thought about Auremar, about what he’d done to those he deemed useful. About my mother, murdered for trying to protect me. About all the families who’d be torn apart if we only took some members.

“No,” I decided. “We take them all. Every last one.”

Vex studied me for a long moment. “You know what? You are an excellent Dark Lady. Different from Kaz, but excellent nonetheless.”

“Different how?”

“He rules through fear. You’re going to rule through aggressive compassion.” She grinned. “It’s somehow more terrifying.”

I pulled out the scrying crystal Kaz had given me, turning it over in my palm. I could contact him. Tell him about Ferdinand the Rooster and the families who’d organized their own kidnapping. Maybe hear his dry commentary about my “aggressive compassion.”

Instead, I tucked it back into my pocket. He was in the middle of his own operation in Valmont. The last thing he needed was a distraction.

Besides, I wasn’t ready to hear his voice yet. Not with Vex’s story still echoing in my head—a year of breaking, the demon wearing different faces, making him think he’d escaped. My throat tightened. If I saw him now, I’d want to ask questions he’d never answer. Questions I wasn’t sure I had any right to ask.

Or if he’d ever trust me enough to answer them even if I did earn that right.

46 Face Your Creator

(Easier Said Than Done)

Kazimir

I waited for Thorne to go through the portal with Istvan before closing it behind them.

Except my hand wouldn’t move.

Close it, I commanded myself. The portal hung open, a tear in reality that any passing mage could sense. Close the fucking portal.

My fingers twitched. Stayed frozen.

She was already disappearing around the corner—gray robes with red stitching that looked like veins of blood. Two of Auremar’s mages in gold and white followed her like obedient dogs.

Amaryska.

The shadows responded before I did, coiling around me protectively. My hand finally obeyed, collapsing the portal with a whisper of dying magic. I stood alone in the narrow alley, every muscle locked in place.

The last time I’d seen her, she’d been standing over my father’s headless corpse with an expression of such profound satisfaction it had chilled even me. She’d disappeared right after, her revenge complete after using me to destroy Vargus.

Now here she was, working for the very king I’d sworn to destroy.

Move. Follow her. Don’t let her—

My feet carried me forward. Of course they did. I’d always followed her, hadn’t I? Even when following meant the knife, the runes, the—

Focus.