Page 17 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“What makes you think I’d be interested in that?” she asked, but her voice had gone husky.

“Call it intuition. Or maybe it’s the way your heart is racing right now.” I pulled her closer. “We’ve had sex all over Skyspire, often with a chance of getting caught. This would just be… more intentional.”

“That’s not quite the same thing.” She buried her face against my chest and quietly laughed.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Sleep now. We’ll discuss the details later.”

“You can’t just drop that on me and expect me to sleep.”

“I can and I do.” I waved a hand, removing the silencing ward. The sounds of the camp filtered back in—distant voices, the crackle of dying fires, the stamp of horses. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow. For the battle and… other things.”

She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a threat against my manhood, but her breathing was already evening out as she relaxed into sleep.

I lay awake longer, staring into the darkness. The vision of those wings haunted me, a shadow at the edge of my consciousness that I felt like I should recognize but couldn’t quite grasp. My runes burned with warning, but I didn’t know what was coming.

Only that it was.

5 Watch Your Wife Bloom

(into a Beautiful, Bloodthirsty Monster)

Kazimir

The sky was still black when we reached the low hill overlooking the outpost. I dismounted and turned to Thorne. “After the battle, I need you to organize collection teams.”

His brow furrowed. “Supplies? Weapons?”

“Bones.” I kept my voice casual. “From the fallen Solandrians. I want them gathered, cataloged, and transported back to the citadel. Intact specimens preferred, but fragments will do.”

Thorne’s expression didn’t change, but I caught the slight pause before he nodded. “Understood, my lord. Any specific bones?”

“All of them.” I turned back to survey the outpost below. “Well, as many as you can reasonably collect without spending all night playing gravedigger.”

“Right.” Another pause. “Should I ask?”

“You could.” I smiled. “But I won’t tell you.”

It wasn’t the strangest request I’d made in his years of employment—that honor probably went to the time I’d needed seventeen gallons of rendered pig fat and a condemned priest—but it ranked in the top ten. Still, Thorne simply pulled out a small notebook and made a notation.

“Bone collection teams,” he muttered, writing. “I’ll have them standing by.”

“Excellent.” I gestured to the valley below. “Now, shall we discuss the outpost?”

The walls were high enough to discourage bandits, not high enough to stop me. Torches guttered along the ramparts, and I could make out the silhouettes of guards walking their rounds.

They had no idea death waited just beyond their sight.

“Two hundred men,” Thorne rumbled. “Give or take.”

“And the wards?” Arabella asked as she led her horse up beside mine.

I waved a dismissive hand. “Standard defensive enchantments. Nothing sophisticated—just basic alarm spells and a few protective barriers. They’ll have a mage or two stationed here, maybe three given how close we are to the border.” I smiled into the darkness. “But here’s the beautiful irony: Solandris’s natural resistance to me has made them complacent. Their mages are trained to reinforce that resistance, not to actually defend against a proper assault.”

“And that resistance no longer works on you.” The smile in Arabella’s voice was unmistakable.

“Thanks to you.” I glanced at her, letting my appreciation show. After we’d activated the Heirloom, her bloodline magic neutralized Solandris’s effect on my power.

Thorne grunted. “The mages?”