Page 227 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“Arabella?” It was barely a whisper, but it was Kazimir’s voice. His real voice.

The ancient presence surged back, trying to reassert control. I saw the battle play out across his features—my husband fighting a god for control of his own body.

Fight him, Kaz. You’re stronger than him. You’ve always been stronger.

His hand loosened slightly, trembling. The darkness in his eyes flickered between solid black and familiar gray.

“No,” the Shadow King snarled, but there was fear in it now. “You are mine. You have always been mine!”

“Wrong,” I rasped, pressing my hand over his where it gripped my throat. “He’s mine. And I’m not letting go.”

I poured my magic into him through that touch—not an attack, but the same sharing of power Kaz and I had done dozens of times before. Light and shadow twisted together, our magics recognizing each other, yearning to merge.

The Shadow King recoiled from the intimacy of it. This wasn’t how power worked in his age. This was a give and take that he couldn’t understand or counter.

Kazimir’s entire body went rigid. His eyes rolled back, showing only white, and then he collapsed.

I barely caught him as he fell, lowering us both to the blood-soaked ground. His breathing was shallow, erratic, but he was breathing. The titanic struggle happening in his mind shuddered through me—Kazimir fighting to reclaim himself.

Distantly, I registered a halt to the Bone Behemoth’s rampage and the armies suddenly more confused than ever as the shadow creatures faltered.

“That’s it,” I murmured, cradling his head in my lap. My throat was raw and barely formed sound. “Fight for me. Fight for us.”

I began channeling power into him, the same way I’d done after battles, after nightmares, after that first terrifying fusion with the Heirloom. Our magics knew each other, trusted each other. Where the Shadow King brought only hunger and darkness, I offered something else.

A future. A choice. A reason to fight.

The humming thread that connected us, the one that had become as natural as breathing, was gone—snuffed out by the entity wearing his face. But then, a fierce, defiant heat bloomed from the birthday ring on my finger. Since the sentiment rings connected us through Kaz’s magic, and his alone, they didn’t depend on the Heirloom to keep us connected.

He was still in there, fighting.

A blast of red magic slammed into the ground near us, sending up a spray of earth and stone. I looked up to see Amaryska hovering above the battlefield, her gray robes billowing with power.

“Meddling whore!” she shouted. “I will kill you just like I did your mother.”

My mother’s face flashed before my eyes—those final moments I’d only recently recovered, her desperate attempt to protect me before Amaryska’s magic tore through her. Grief twisted in my chest, sharp and immediate, but it was quickly consumed by something far more powerful.

Rage.

Pure, incandescent rage that made my earlier fury look like a candle flame. This bitch had murdered my mother.

My magic erupted outward in shadow entwined with golden light. The ground cracked beneath my feet. My vision tinged red at the edges, and I felt my lips pull back in a feral snarl.

She gestured, and the shadow creatures that had been dissipating suddenly solidified again, turning their attention to our position. To Kazimir’s unconscious form.

I couldn’t move him while he was fighting his internal battle. But I could protect him.

Standing over his body, I reached out with my magic. The Heirloom pulsed, and suddenly I was aware of everything—every thread of power on the battlefield, every creature, every spell.

Including the Bone Behemoth.

It stood motionless where it had stopped, awaiting commands. I’d never controlled something so massive or complex. But my blood was singing with the combined power of the Heirloom and Kazimir’s dominion magic flowing through our bond.

What was the worst that could happen? I’d fail? We were already surrounded by enemies with my husband unconscious at my feet. Might as well go big.

I reached out with my will, touching the behemoth’s consciousness. It was like trying to grasp smoke at first—the construct was attuned to Kazimir, not me. But our magics were intertwined now.

Move, I commanded.