Page 247 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

The Shadow King’s presence slammed into me once again. Not trying to possess me—he had a better vessel now—but recognizing me, acknowledging what I’d been. What I’d rejected.

You could have been a god, the voice said. We could have remade the world together.

I gritted my teeth and pushed more magic into the circle. I didn’t want to remake the world. I just wanted my wife back.

The bowl cracked. Sebastian’s blood rose in a crimson spiral, suspended in midair. Amaryska’s chanting grew louder. The chamber shook violently.

Then, between one heartbeat and the next, something gave way.

The dais split down the middle. Not just the stone—reality itself tore open, revealing a yawning void that swallowed light and sound and sanity. From that void came laughter, ancient and terrible and free.

“He rises!” Amaryska threw her arms wide, tears streaming down her face. “The Shadow King rises! The world will burn, and from its ashes—”

The ceiling chose that moment to collapse.

A chunk of stone above the dais broke free, plummeting toward the tear in reality. Amaryska looked up, still smiling, still welcoming her precious chaos.

The stone crushed her instantly.

I was already moving, grabbing Sebastian and hauling him away from the widening fissure. More of the ceiling fell, the entire chamber coming apart as something vast and terrible pulled itself through the gap between worlds.

No time to process my mother’s death. No time to consider what I’d just unleashed. I wrapped shadows around Sebastian and myself, tearing open a portal with the last of my strength.

The Chamber of Petals disappeared in a rush of falling stone and eldritch laughter. We tumbled through darkness, my portal unstable, uncontrolled. I held tight to Sebastian, feeling his blood soak through my shirt, and focused on the only destination that mattered.

Skyspire. Arabella.

I just needed to know if my wife was herself again.

73 Make Heartfelt Declarations

(Now That the Apocalypse Is Underway)

Kazimir

The portal spat us out in the Old Keep like the universe itself was rejecting what I’d done.

I hit the floor hard, Sebastian’s weight dragging me down. He collapsed beside me, clutching his bandaged arm. His breathing was shallow, and his skin had taken on a waxy, gray pallor. Blood had soaked through the makeshift binding, spreading across my torn shirt. The metallic scent filled my nostrils, mixing with the dust and old magic of the tower.

But I barely noticed any of it.

Because I could feel Arabella again.

She floated in the center of Griffin’s containment matrix, suspended in a web of golden light. Her eyes were closed, body perfectly still in the magical stasis I’d forced on her. But the connection between us, that bond forged by blood and magic and love, sang with life. It thrummed with her fierce presence—no foreign consciousness, no ancient evil wearing her skin. Just Arabella. Exhausted, battered by her internal battle, but her.

The Shadow King was gone.

I scrambled to my feet, nearly tripping over the Alchemist’s unconscious form. They’d fallen asleep propped in a chair, a half-empty vial of something glowing faintly blue clutched in their hand. Probably exhausted from maintaining whatever wards they’d added to Griffin’s work.

I crossed to the matrix in three strides and began dismantling Griffin’s handiwork. The enchanter had outdone himself—layers upon layers of protective circles, stabilization runes, and power dampeners. But I knew every symbol Griffin had ever learned, every configuration he favored. The matrix unraveled at my touch, dissolving into motes of fading light.

Arabella hung suspended in midair for a heartbeat before I caught her, her body limp but warm in my arms as we sank to the floor. The Heirloom still crowned her head, but its energy was clean now—pure without a trace of corruption. Just as it had been before Auremar’s death had torn everything apart.

My hands trembled as I pressed them to her temples, feeding dominion magic into the stasis I’d created. Layer by layer, I peeled back the compulsions, the forced sleep, the magical chains I’d wrapped around her mind.

Come back to me.

Arabella gasped, her whole body convulsing as consciousness returned. Her eyelids fluttered. Once. Twice. Then those hazel eyes opened, focused, and locked onto mine.