Page 228 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

The behemoth’s massive skull turned toward us.

Protect him, I ordered, pouring more power into the command. Protect us.

The ground shook as the behemoth took its first step under my control. Then another. Bones the size of tree trunks swept aside shadow creatures like they were gnats. Its roar—if a creature without lungs could roar—sent our enemies scattering.

“Impossible,” Amaryska hissed. “You shouldn’t be able to—”

I cut her off by sending the behemoth’s massive fist toward her. She barely dodged, her hover faltering.

“Fuck you!” I shouted hoarsely.

Shadow creatures converged on us from all sides. I split my focus—maintaining the flow of power to Kazimir, controlling the behemoth, and conjuring shields when enemies got too close.

Through our bond, I felt Kazimir’s struggle intensifying. Flashes of memory that weren’t mine flickered through my consciousness—ancient battles, civilizations rising and falling, the moment of binding beneath fields that would one day bloom with Golden Roses.

“Come back to me,” I whispered, even as I sent the behemoth crashing through a wave of shadows. “I know you can hear me, Kaz. You’re not him. You’re not the Shadow King. You’re the man who kidnapped me and then got upset when I didn’t appreciate the accommodations. You’re the one who taught me to make weapons from darkness and light. You’re mine, and I’m not letting some ancient asshole take you away.”

A shadow creature slipped past the behemoth’s defense. I barely got a shield up in time, the impact driving me to one knee. The position left me vulnerable, and three more creatures rushed in.

That’s when Nyx arrived.

My dragon materialized from nothing, fully phased between dimensions in a way I’d never seen her achieve before. One moment empty air, the next a fury of shimmering pink scales and purple fire. She grabbed the nearest shadow creature in her jaws and shook it like a dog with a toy.

“About time,” I gasped, using her distraction to regain my footing.

Nyx’s roar shook the entire battlefield. More importantly, spells that should have torn through her scales simply slid off, unable to find purchase on something that existed partially in another dimension. She was untouchable, unstoppable, and extremely pissed off.

Together, we held the line. The behemoth’s massive fists crushed any enemy that got too close. Nyx danced between dimensions, striking and vanishing before retaliation could come. And I stood over Kazimir’s body, channeling power and defiance in equal measure.

Our army, seeing the tide turn, rallied. Thorne’s voice rose above the chaos, organizing our forces. I wondered where the Sky Serpent was and why he wasn’t on it, but the captives weren’t as important as this battle right now. Without the Shadow King’s will directing them, the shadow creatures became less coordinated. More beast than soldier. Enemy forces were scattering, their will broken.

We were winning.

“My lady!” one of our soldiers called out, pointing.

Amaryska was fleeing too. I would find her eventually, but not now.

I looked down at Kazimir, still unconscious but breathing steadier. I felt the battle raging in his mind reach a crescendo. He was so close to breaking free, so close to coming back to me.

I dropped back to my knees beside him. “You’ve got this. Show that ancient bastard who really owns this body.”

Nyx landed beside us, her wings unfurling to create a protective barrier. The behemoth stood sentinel on our other side. Around us, our forces were mopping up the last resistance, but I barely noticed.

All my attention was on Kazimir, on the flutter of his eyelids, the way his fingers twitched as if reaching for something.

Victory was within reach.

If only Kaz could defeat the Shadow King.

If only he could find his way back to me.

“I love you,” I whispered again, pressing my forehead to his. “Do you hear me? I love you, and you don’t get to leave me now. Not ever.”

The Heirloom pulsed with warmth, and through our bond, I felt a shift. A wall crumbling. A chain breaking.

Soon. Soon he’d open those storm-gray eyes and smirk at me like the arrogant bastard he was. Soon we’d argue about whose fault this mess was while planning our next move.

Soon.