Page 207 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

Lord Atticus Evenfall sat huddled on his cot, eyes filled with terror. His hair, which had been meticulously styled when we first brought him in, hung in greasy strands around his gaunt face.

“Come to gloat?” he asked.

I smiled, letting my dominion magic curl around me. “Actually, we’ve come to release you.”

Confusion flickered across his face. “What?”

“You heard me.” I stepped farther into the cell, enjoying the way he pressed himself against the wall. “We’re letting you go.”

Evenfall’s gaze darted between Arabella and me, searching for the trap. “Why?”

“Because you’re no longer useful to us,” Arabella said, her voice cold. “And keeping you fed is becoming tedious.”

I had to admire her performance. The casual cruelty in her tone was perfectly calibrated—believable enough to convince her father, yet still a performance. My little villain was learning.

“Stand up,” I ordered, infusing my voice with just enough dominion magic to make his muscles twitch in response. He rose shakily to his feet, still pressing himself against the wall as if he could melt through it.

“What’s the catch?” he asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“The catch,” I said, moving closer until I could smell the fear on him, “is that if you ever return to Skyspire, I’ll skin you alive and use your hide to bind my grimoires.” I let my magic flare, the runes carved into my bones heating beneath my skin. “Is that clear?”

He nodded rapidly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Good.” I turned to Arabella. “Shall we?”

She nodded, her expression impassive. I opened a portal in the center of the cell, the darkness swirling like ink in water. Through it, I could see a stretch of forest at the edge of Solandris—nearly at the capital city gates and close enough that he’d reach Auremar in time to deliver our false intelligence.

Evenfall stared at the portal, then back at us. “Just like that? You’re letting me walk out?”

“Would you prefer to stay?” Arabella asked, arching an eyebrow.

He shook his head quickly.

“Then go,” I said, gesturing to the portal. “Before I change my mind.”

Evenfall took a hesitant step toward the portal, then another. As he passed me, I grabbed his arm, my fingers digging into the thin flesh. “One more thing.”

Fear flashed in his eyes. “What?”

“We need to make this convincing.” Without warning, I slammed my fist into his face. The crack of cartilage breaking was immensely satisfying, as was his howl of pain. Blood spurted from his nose, spattering across his already filthy shirt.

Before he could recover, I hit him again, this time in the stomach. He doubled over, gasping. I followed with a blow to his ribs that sent him sprawling to the floor.

“Kaz,” Arabella said, her voice soft but firm. “He won’t make our deadline if you injure him too badly.”

I stepped back, flexing my fingers. The runes beneath my skin were thrumming with pleasure. “Just making it look like he had a difficult journey.”

Evenfall pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, blood dripping from his nose onto the stone floor. He looked pathetic, broken—how a man might look after escaping a villain’s dungeon and traveling for days through hostile territory. I was tempted to make it even more convincing, but we didn’t have time.

“Get up,” I ordered, drawing a knife from my belt.

He struggled to his feet, swaying slightly. His right eye was already swelling shut, and his breathing came in ragged gasps that suggested at least one broken rib.

I glanced at Arabella, silently asking if she wanted a turn. She considered her father for a moment, then shook her head. Her restraint impressed me—I wouldn’t have shown the same in her position.

“Now,” I said, turning back to Evenfall, “there’s one more detail to address.”

I raised the knife and slid it across my forearm, following the path of an old scar that had been reopened countless times. Blood welled in the shallow cut. Evenfall tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. He sagged against the wall, and I held him there with shadows and let three drops of my blood fall onto his forehead. They soaked into his pale skin, leaving no trace behind. His eyes were wide with fear, the whites showing all around his irises as he strained against the shadow bindings.