Page 185 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“That’s not weakness,” she said firmly. “That’s trauma.”

“I’m the Dark Lord. I shouldn’t—”

“You’re also human, Kaz.” Her eyes met mine, fierce and unwavering. “Your mother abused you when you were a child. Of course your body remembered. Of course you froze.”

The knot in my chest unraveled, leaving something raw but strangely lighter in its wake. “It felt pathetic,” I continued quietly. “Standing there, shaking like a child while she escaped.”

Arabella’s thumb traced small circles over my sternum. “You’re allowed to be human with me, you know. You don’t have to be the Dark Lord every second.”

The relief that washed through me was so intense it was almost painful. Like lancing a wound I hadn’t known was infected.

“I’ve never told anyone that before,” I admitted. “About being afraid.”

“Thank you.” She leaned her forehead against my shoulder. “For telling me now.”

And somehow, impossibly, it did feel good to say it aloud. To let someone see the parts of me I’d kept locked away. To trust that Arabella wouldn’t use my vulnerability as a weapon.

The Shadow King whispered warnings, but for once, I barely heard them over the sound of my own heartbeat slowing to match Arabella’s.

“This is new territory for me,” I said, my voice rough. “Being this… open. I’m not sure I’m doing it right.”

“There’s no ‘right’ way.” Arabella pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. “Just honest. And you’re being honest with me. That’s enough.”

She was quiet for a moment, then let her hand drop from my chest to my thigh, not in a sensual way, just reassuring. “Where is she now?”

“Likely back at Sunspire Palace, with Auremar.”

Arabella huffed in frustration. “Of course. Because why wouldn’t the woman who murdered my mother be hiding in the one place we can’t easily reach?”

I could have pointed out the irony—her own father still rotted in our dungeons because she couldn’t decide what to do with him. Of the two of us, I was the one who’d killed a parent. I understood the weight of that decision in ways she couldn’t yet comprehend.

“There’s more,” I said instead. “When we fought, she admitted to orchestrating my betrayal. The demon, all of it—it was her plan.”

Arabella’s hand tightened on mine hard enough to hurt. “Oh Kaz.”

“She said I’d grown too powerful. That I’d exceeded my purpose.” The words tasted bitter.

“Fucking bitch.” The vehemence in her voice made more warmth bloom in my chest.

“I believe she’s helping him directly with the Shadow King’s prison. The ley lines, the bloodline sacrifices—it all points to the prison. Amaryska’s been obsessed with ancient magic since before I was born. If anyone could help Auremar tap into the Shadow King’s power, it would be her.”

“But why?” Arabella shook her head. “What does she gain from it?”

I scowled. “It’s always been about power with her. She traded her soul for it once before. This would just be another bargain.”

Arabella leaned into me again. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as she processed everything I’d told her. Her body was tense, coiled like a spring ready to release. “Do you think that’s why she came after me? Because I’d seen her in the palace?”

I sighed. “That’s my theory, yes.”

We were silent awhile, sitting with our own thoughts.

“I want her dead,” Arabella said finally, her voice muffled against my shirt.

So bloodthirsty, the voice purred. She’ll make a perfect queen for us.

I tightened my grip on her, as much to ground myself as to comfort her. “Amaryska will pay for what she’s done. To both of us.”

Arabella nodded. She sat up, straightening her shoulders. “What’s our next move?”