Page 236 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“Don’t.” The word came out as a growl.

“Don’t what? Touch what’s mine?” The Shadow King stood, and the protective circle flared brighter, trying to contain him. He glanced down at it with mild interest. “Ah, the old containment matrices. I remember when these were first designed. Cute, but hardly sufficient.”

The Alchemist stepped forward, and something in their bearing changed. For a moment, their form seemed to flicker, showing something vast and incomprehensible beneath the mundane exterior. For a moment, I wondered if the Alchemist was more than they appeared. But then the flickering disappeared, leaving me to question if I’d simply been seeing a trick of their robes.

“Weaver,” the Shadow King acknowledged with Arabella’s lips. Another twitch in Arabella’s left eye. “I wondered when one of you would crawl out of hiding. Still playing keeper of the ley lines, I see.”

“Someone has to clean up the messes,” the Alchemist replied mildly. “You’ve made quite a spectacular one this time.”

“Have I?” The Shadow King examined Arabella’s hands as if seeing them for the first time. He flexed her fingers, testing each joint like he was learning the controls. Her pinky finger spasmed. Definitely fighting. “I’d say young Auremar deserves most of the credit. All that blood, all those sacrifices, weakening my prison year by year. I merely took advantage of an opportunity.”

“An opportunity that required possessing an innocent woman,” I said.

The Shadow King laughed, and it was wrong, so wrong coming from Arabella’s throat. “Your wife is many things, Kazimir, but innocent isn’t one of them. She has blood on her hands, doesn’t she? Ask her. Oh wait—you can’t. Because she’s rather preoccupied fighting a losing battle for control of her own mind.”

Her left hand clenched suddenly, fingernails digging into her palm. Blood welled.

I took a step forward, but the Alchemist caught my arm. “He’s baiting you.”

“Of course I am,” the Shadow King agreed too cheerfully. Arabella’s natural sarcasm had a different cadence. “It’s so easy with you. All that love, all that desperate need to protect her. It’s almost touching, but it makes me want to gag.”

“What do you want?” I forced the words out through gritted teeth.

The Shadow King tilted Arabella’s head, considering. “What does any prisoner want after centuries of confinement? Freedom, of course. Complete, unrestricted freedom.”

“The prison—”

“Is failing anyway.” Her right shoulder jerked—Arabella again. The Shadow King smoothed the motion into a dismissive gesture, but I saw it. “Thanks to Auremar’s meddling, the anchors are already breaking down. It’s only a matter of time before I’m free regardless. But time is something your dear wife doesn’t have much of.”

I felt ice form in my chest. “Explain.”

“Possession is such a violent process.” He was turning in a circle now, using Arabella’s body like a marionette. Every third step came a fraction too late—her resistance throwing off his rhythm. He stilled. “Two consciousnesses battling for control of one body. Eventually, something has to give. Usually, it’s the weaker mind that shatters. Would you like to know how long Arabella has? Hours? Days? It’s hard to say. She’s surprisingly strong, but strength only delays the inevitable.”

“You’re lying.”

He smiled with Arabella’s face, stretching her lips into the wide, painted smile of a jester. The muscles in her cheeks spasmed violently—not a twitch this time, but a full revolt against the expression. “Feel free to wait and find out. Watch as she slowly loses herself, piece by piece. Watch as I consume everything that makes her who she is.”

I held back my anger, but shadows still writhed in the corners of the room. “Or?”

“Or you could release me properly. Break the remaining anchors, open my prison completely. Once I’m free, I’ll have no need for this vessel. I’ll leave her body and reclaim my true form. Everyone wins.”

The Alchemist’s grip on my arm tightened. “You can’t seriously be considering—”

“The fuck I can’t!” I shook them off, my eyes never leaving Arabella’s possessed form as I said, “Tell me another way, Alchemist. Tell me how to save her without releasing him.”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought.” I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision settling on my shoulders. The world with Arabella versus the world without her. Not even a contest. “Fine. Tell me how to open the prison.”

“Kazimir, no,” the Alchemist protested. “You don’t understand what you’re agreeing to. The Shadow King free in the world again—”

“I understand perfectly.” The words came out flat, final. My gaze was still fixed on the evil that was shining through Arabella’s eyes. “I don’t care if the world burns. I don’t care if he drowns the realm in darkness. None of it matters without her.”

The Shadow King clapped Arabella’s hands together. The movement was violent enough that I heard her knuckles crack. “Oh, how romantic! The Dark Lord choosing love over the fate of the world. It’s almost poetic.”

“Tell me how,” I repeated.

“Patience,” the Shadow King chided. “First, we need to discuss terms. After all, I am nothing if not a creature of contracts and agreements. It’s only civilized.”