Page 226 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“Kaz,” I whispered, and started running again.

I had to reach him. Had to pull him back from whatever edge he was balanced on.

Had to save him, even if it meant damning myself in the process.

Even if I wasn’t sure there was anything left to save.

65 Say It Out Loud

(While Standing Over His Body)

Arabella

The sky above churned with darkness so thick it seemed to swallow light itself. I ran toward Kazimir, dodging the shadow creatures, the panicked soldiers, and even a swipe of the Bone Behemoth. Through our bond, I felt nothing but vast, ancient hunger. The man I loved was drowning.

“Kaz!” I screamed, but my voice was lost in the cacophony of battle.

A shadow creature lunged at me from the left. I barely had time to raise a shield before its claws raked across the magical barrier. The impact sent me stumbling, but I kept moving. Nothing mattered except reaching him.

Bodies littered the ground—Solandrian soldiers, our own forces, all equal prey to the darkness Kazimir had unleashed.

Another creature attacked, this one more solid than shadow. I drove a blade of light through its center, watching it dissolve with an inhuman shriek. The Heirloom burned against my scalp, feeding me power I’d never felt before. It was intoxicating, terrifying, and absolutely necessary.

Because the thing wearing Kazimir’s face had finally noticed me.

He turned slowly, and my steps faltered. His eyes were pools of absolute darkness, no trace of the storm gray I loved. When he smiled, it was the smile of something that had waited centuries for this moment.

“The heir of Soriven,” he said, but it wasn’t Kazimir’s voice. It carried the weight of ages, the echo of tombs. “How fitting that you should witness my triumph.”

“Give him back,” I demanded, closing the distance between us. “I know you’re in there, Kaz. Fight him!”

The Shadow King laughed, a sound that made my bones ache. “He is nothing. A vessel worn by time. He served his purpose.”

“That’s fucking bullshit.” I was close enough to touch him now, close enough to see the familiar scars on his hands, the way his hair fell across his forehead. “Kazimir Blackrose bows to no one, especially not some ancient parasite. And he’s mine.”

What’s mine, stays mine.

I reached for him, but faster than thought, a hand closed around my throat for the second time in a few minutes.

The touch burned cold as frost spread from his fingers. I gasped, clawing at his grip, but it was like trying to move stone. My already bruised neck felt ready to break.

“Your ancestor bound me,” the Shadow King hissed through Kazimir’s lips. “Trapped me in darkness for centuries. It seems fitting that I should start my revenge with you.”

Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. Through our bond, I searched desperately for any trace of Kazimir, any spark of the man who’d taught me to embrace my darkness, who’d held me through the return of my memories, who’d—

There. Buried deep beneath the ancient presence, I felt a flicker of recognition. A flash of horror at what his hands were doing.

“Kaz,” I wheezed, pouring everything into that single word. “I know you’re in there. You”—I clutched his wrist and squeezed, pouring my magic into him—“promised.”

The grip tightened. The Shadow King’s smile widened.

And then, because I might never get another chance, because if I was going to die it would be with truth on my lips. I had no air, no voice, but I formed the words anyway:

I love you.

The Shadow King froze. Even the battle seemed to pause.

For a heartbeat, then two, three, nothing moved. Then those bottomless eyes shifted. A crack in the darkness.