Page 210 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

Griffin stood in a cleared space, surrounded by an intricate pattern of runes drawn in what looked like crushed obsidian mixed with blood. Probably his own. The fool was nothing if not committed to his craft.

“Ah, there you are!” he called, waving frantically. His hair stood up in all directions, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. He’d been working through the night ever since I’d proposed this crazy plan. “I’ve just finished the final calculations. It’s going to be magnificent. Or catastrophic. Possibly both!”

“That’s not as reassuring as you seem to think it is,” Arabella muttered.

I stepped closer, examining the runic array. It was complex, far beyond anything I’d seen Griffin attempt before. The pattern spiraled outward from a central point, each line and curve precisely placed to channel and amplify magical energy.

“You’re certain this will work?” I asked.

Griffin pushed his spectacles up his nose, his expression growing serious. “Theoretically, yes. The math checks out.” He hesitated.

“But?” I prompted.

“Well, no one’s ever attempted a portal of this magnitude before,” he admitted. “The energy requirements are substantial.”

I smiled, feeling the Heirloom’s power thrumming through my connection with Arabella, fed by the nexus at the God Spire. “Energy won’t be a problem.”

“Right, yes, of course.” Griffin fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve. “There is one other small concern.”

“Which is?”

“The stability of the portal depends on your concentration. If your focus wavers, even for a moment”—he made an explosive gesture with his hands—“poof.”

“Poof,” I repeated flatly.

“More like a catastrophic collapse of space-time that could potentially tear a hole in reality,” Griffin clarified, “but yes, essentially—poof.”

Arabella looked at me with a mix of concern and amusement. “No pressure.”

I rolled my eyes. “Your confidence is overwhelming.”

“You’ll be fine,” she said, her tone softening. “Just don’t get distracted.”

The way she said it made it clear what kind of distraction she meant. I arched an eyebrow at her. “I’m a professional, Lady Blackrose.”

“Of course you are, Lord Blackrose.” Her smile was teasing, but there was a warmth in her eyes that made my chest tighten.

Tell her now, a part of me urged. Before it’s too late.

But Griffin was already moving into position, gesturing for me to take my place at the center of the runic array. The moment passed, slipping away like sand through fingers.

“Thorne,” I called, and my security chief materialized at my side, seemingly from nowhere. “Are the troops ready?”

Thorne nodded grimly. “In position and awaiting your command, my lord.”

“Good.” I turned to Arabella. “You know what to do?”

She nodded. “You create a distraction big enough that Auremar won’t notice a small team infiltrating his palace.”

“And?”

“And I stay alive,” she added, rolling her eyes. “Yes, I remember the plan.”

I simply nodded. “Then let’s begin.”

I stepped into the center of the runic array, feeling the magic immediately respond to my presence. The runes began to heat, a familiar pain that I welcomed. Pain meant power, and I would need every ounce of it for what was to come.

Griffin took up position at the edge of the array, his hands hovering over specific runes. “Ready when you are, Lord Blackrose.”