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HOLD HANDS AND TWIST ARMS (ROMANCE BY WAY OF BORDER PATROLS)

ARABELLA

I tried not to stare at the mounted heads glaring down at me from every inch of the manor’s dining room. A three-headed serpent loomed above Morana’s seat, its unblinking glass eyes seeming to track my every move. I swallowed back a shiver, and channeled my best impression of polite curiosity.

“An interesting collection,” I said, inclining my head toward the walls. “Did you hunt all of these yourself?”

Viscountess Morana returned a thin, chilly smile. “Most of them. Edmund managed the chimera—though, of course, he needed help.” She flicked a dismissive glance toward her husband, who looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

Lord Edmund was the soft polar opposite to his wife’s lethal elegance. Where Morana seemed carved from knives, Edmund appeared to be a bundle of nerves stuffed into noble attire. He hadn’t once met my eyes since we arrived. A pang of something—empathy, perhaps—stirred beneath my frustration.

“Lord Edmund,” I greeted. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He jumped, fiddling with a spoon the way others might clutch a lifeline. “Lady Blackrose,” he said, voice squeaking. “We, ah, rarely host visitors these days.”

Before I could respond, servants brought out platters of roasted meats and vegetables. Kazimir made a quick gesture over the table, and magic rippled across the dishes, illuminating two goblets—his and mine—in a brief blue shimmer.

Morana rolled her eyes. “Really, Kazimir? You think I’d poison my own guests?”

Although she tried to keep her posture relaxed, Morana leaned forward in a subtly provocative arc, her bodice all but inviting Kazimir’s attention.

I reminded myself I had no reason to care.

Still, I was sitting right beside my husband.

The way she watched him sparked a heated annoyance in me I couldn’t fully bury.

I reached for my wine. It was apparently safe now, but that didn’t dampen my caution when I took a small sip. “The vintage is superb,” I offered, cutting through the quiet. “Your vineyards, Viscountess?”

Morana collected herself, her focus snapping away from Kazimir. “Yes. The southern slopes produce a particularly robust red.”

Edmund perked up a little. “You know wines, Lady Blackrose?”

I gave him a polite smile. “Father insisted. He believed a proper lady must select the right wine for any occasion.”

“And what sort of occasion is this?” Morana asked, tone barbed.

I let my gaze sweep around the table. “Hopefully, the sort where everyone leaves alive.”

Kazimir’s knee bumped mine under the table, a silent tap of approval that I allowed. “My wife has a refreshing directness, doesn’t she?” he drawled.

Morana’s lips tightened fractionally. “Indeed. Though I wonder if directness helps in a marriage such as yours.”

“Such as ours?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

She carved into her meat with a pointed savagery. “A political arrangement. What else?”

At that moment, I surprised even myself by deciding I’d had enough of Morana’s insinuations.

Without overthinking, I reached over and took Kazimir’s hand.

His fingers stiffened briefly before softening around mine.

I shot him a practiced smile, the one I’d honed in countless forced court appearances back home.

Morana’s expression froze, and I glimpsed raw fury in her pale eyes. Apparently, Kazimir had never indulged her in such a simple public display. Interesting.

Edmund broke the tension with an awkward cough. “The, er, weather has been mild...”

No one answered him. I released Kazimir’s hand, and he took his wine glass. “I was surprised to learn your garrison is still to the north, Morana,” he said, letting that cool, ominous edge leak into his voice.

Her expression turned stony. “Intelligence suggested the mountain clans might attack. I shifted my forces to show strength.”

I felt the faint pricking of my truth-sense behind my eyes. What she was saying wasn’t a lie, but something in her voice hinted at missing details.

Kazimir gave a small nod. “And how accurate was that intelligence?”

She measured her words carefully. “The clans retreated to the high passes for now.”

I could practically taste her reluctance to share more. I’d been so focused on reading her, I almost missed the subtle flicker of frustration crossing Kazimir’s face.

“Convenient,” he said, “for the bandits who swept through the villages down south.”

She bristled. “If you’re accusing me of abandoning my own subjects?—”

“I’m noting a coincidence,” Kazimir cut in. “One that serves no one’s interest. A decimated settlement can’t pay taxes.”

Morana’s knuckles whitened around her knife. “I’m managing my territories just fine without your magical shortcuts.”

The chandelier’s flame shuddered, and the room darkened an extra shade around Kazimir. “Those ‘shortcuts’ have served Arvoryn well, Morana. Don’t forget that, especially when you deal with the Syndicate.”

She paled at the mention of the Syndicate, but quickly fired back. “I’m merely seeking reimbursement for my lost guard, and someone has to hold this pass.”

Kazimir’s jaw tensed. “Meaning I should recall how precariously balanced your status is. Let’s not dance around it.”

Morana glared. Edmund looked like he wanted to crawl under his chair.

I leaned forward, deciding to step in before those tense undercurrents exploded into outright threats. “Perhaps we can discuss the shared border patrols. They seem reasonable if we want to avoid further ‘coincidences.’”

Morana’s gaze flicked to me, eyes calculating. “You’ve picked up much, Lady Blackrose, especially for someone who was recently confined in her father’s house.”

“You seem very captivated by my marriage, Viscountess,” I replied coolly, ignoring the flicker of memory. “Perhaps you’re jealous?”

Shock flared in her expression before she masked it beneath contempt. “You mistake scorn for envy.”

I studied her for a long beat, letting a small smirk touch my lips. “I don’t think so.”

She blanched, fury turning her cheeks a brighter shade. She looked about ready to vault across the table.

Kazimir ended the stare-down by speaking in that low, authoritative tone that reminded me exactly who he was. “Enough.”

The entire room seemed to hold its breath at the command. My pulse quickened. Gone was the almost playful partner who’d teased me earlier. This was the Dark Lord who had leveled entire strongholds. Morana recognized it, too. She squared her shoulders, her earlier bravado reined in.

“The treaty,” Kazimir continued as though the confrontation hadn’t just spiked. “You’ll patrol the border of Arvoryn in rotation with mine. No village remains uncovered for more than a day.”

Morana gave a short, brittle nod. “And what will I get in this exchange?”

Kazimir swirled his wine leisurely. “I’ll provide enchanted tokens for up to twenty of your people to trade with Skyspire, and a trade portal for your goods, if you choose to be cooperative.”

I wasn’t surprised at the concession. He’d mentioned that with Arvoryn wedged between a pair of hostile realms, they’d been struggling for provisions. It was simply another element of the Dark Lord’s strategy to make her reliant on his support.

“The tokens would be... useful,” Edmund ventured, looking nervously between his wife and Kazimir.

Morana shot him a look that could have frozen fire, but he didn’t flinch. Perhaps there was more to Edmund than I’d initially thought.

She folded her arms, trying to appear less unsettled. “I want at least thirty tokens.”

“Twenty-five,” Kazimir countered. “And I’ll give you the diagrams for a receiving portal platform. Your enchanters can build it themselves—though they can’t access my network without my permission.”

A tense silence took root, finally broken by Morana’s clipped acceptance. “Fine. Thorne has the documents, I assume?”

Right on cue, Thorne strode in carrying a worn leather folder, placing it before her. She scanned the pages with an unreadable frown, then signed with a flourish that resembled a dagger slash.

“Done.” Morana shoved the parchments back, standing so rigidly that it looked like she was physically holding herself together.

Kazimir rose. “We have pressing business elsewhere. Thank you for your hospitality.”

Her gaze slid to me, that cold, seething challenge in her posture. “Lady Blackrose. Enjoy your accelerated education at your husband’s citadel.”

I matched her stare with practiced grace. “You’ve been most enlightening, Viscountess Morana.”

Edmund, somehow remembering his manners, escorted us to the courtyard with jittery small talk about the harvest and the stable’s new horses. Watching him left me torn between pity and contempt; he deserved better, yet he seemed locked in his own quiet hell.

Kazimir paused in the courtyard, peering at his horse’s foreleg. “It seems my horse is lame,” he stated.

I glanced at the animal, which appeared perfectly fine. Kazimir shot me a devilish grin. “No time to saddle a spare. We’ll have to ride double,” he announced with a casual shrug.

My annoyance flared. “Our agreement?—”

He didn’t wait. In one swift motion, he had me on my mare’s back before sliding in behind me. The warm press of his chest caught me off guard. As he took the reins, I felt the air shift with a crackle of energy.

“Surely,” he whispered in my ear, “you wouldn’t have me walk all the way back?”

I recognized the game—no doubt Morana had a perfect view from some high window. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, cheeks heating.

Kazimir’s only response was a low chuckle as we set off, Thorne and the guards forming a protective circle around us. A brisk wind whipped down from the mountains.

When we were a safe distance from the manor, I muttered, “You could have told me ahead of time you wanted a dramatic exit.”

“Would you have agreed?”

“Probably not,” I admitted.

He lowered his face closer to mine. “Exactly.”

Despite my frustration, I settled into his hold, genuinely relieved for the added warmth. “We’re out of Morana’s sight now,” I pointed out. “You can stop clutching me.”

He didn’t loosen the arm around my waist. “I’ve grown quite fond of this arrangement.”

I snorted, refusing to feed his smugness with a direct retort. But after a while, the rhythm of the horse’s gait relaxed the tension in my limbs. I caught myself leaning back against him and quickly straightened, ignoring the sudden flutter in my chest.

Kazimir’s voice dropped, the teasing note returning. “You better be careful. If you get too comfortable, you might start to like me.”

“Doubtful,” I replied primly.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Amusement laced his tone, but I sensed a thread of genuine yearning beneath it. For all his lethal bravado, he sought acceptance from me. It made me uneasy because, in some twisted corner of my mind, I wanted to give it to him.

Silence fell as we rode, broken only by the chatter of birds and the distant bleating of goats. My thoughts drifted to the destroyed villages.

Kazimir’s breath ghosted over my ear as he murmured, “A gold coin for your thoughts, Lady Blackrose.”

“Auremar and his negligence,” I said. “He used to be fair, I thought. Respectable. Now…”

Kazimir shrugged, the motion pressing me against him. “Or you only saw the image he projected. Power often makes it easy for people to conceal their true natures.”

I couldn’t argue, but the idea left a bitter taste in my mouth.

A moment later, I blurted, “You could have married Morana, you know. She clearly has… interest in you.”

His grip on the reins tightened. “That was never an option.”

“Why not? She adores power, obviously. And seems to share your ‘methods.’”

He paused so long that I wondered if I’d hit a nerve.

When he finally spoke, his voice struck flint against the mountain air.

“Because slipping into her bed cost fewer soldiers than storming her walls, and Edmund makes excellent insurance if I decide she’s outlived her usefulness. I kneel to no one—least of all Morana.”

The words thudded between us. I twisted, studying the hard set of his jaw. “So...”

“Yes, Morana was already married. Yes, Edmund knew. Shocking revelations all around.”

“Still,” I muttered, turning forward again, “Morana isn’t some moon-eyed courtier. Slice her pride and she’ll slice back.”

Kaz laughed, low and edged. “She can try.”

That wasn’t bravado. I felt the chill certainty in his magic coiling around us. Suddenly the pass seemed too small for Morana’s ambition and his foresight to coexist.

I swallowed hard. “So… Lord Edmund…?”

“Has watched his wife collect ‘conquests’ for years,” Kazimir murmured wryly into my ear. “And no, I didn’t particularly care about his feelings. I’m the Dark Lord, after all.”

His casual acceptance of that cruelty unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. We lapsed into silence again, the tang of pine and distant woodsmoke drifting on the air. I reminded myself he was, indeed, a villain.

My patience frayed enough for me to poke at him. “I suppose our marriage is just another pragmatic arrangement, then. If I wanted to indulge in lovers the way Morana does?—”

Kazimir’s arm crushed me to his chest in a single, decisive motion. My heart hammered as his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “You won’t.”

A strangled promise of violence laced every syllable. My breath caught. He kept me pressed to him, as if reminding me he could extinguish my enemies—and possibly me—without blinking. When he released his punishing hold to something more measured, I still felt his heartbeat thrumming behind me.

I swallowed the thrill of adrenaline. I’d only meant to taunt him, but the response left me rattled… and oddly flattered. I squared my shoulders, forcing casualness. “So you’d kill any hypothetical lover that came near me?”

“Hypothetically,” he agreed, the corner of his mouth brushing my ear again, “yes.”

A nervous laugh escaped me. I didn’t doubt him. Not entirely. And I had no idea what unsettled me more: the threat itself or the flicker of twisted, possessive attraction that sparked dangerously between us.

We rode on in silence, while I tried not to think about how I might actually enjoy being property the Dark Lord wouldn’t share.