Page 53

BLOW OFF STEAM (WITHOUT DESTROYING THE CASTLE)

ARABELLA

I left the eastern tower and crossed the inner courtyard toward our chambers. My head throbbed from exhaustion. The morning’s revelations had piled atop the magical overload until I felt like a dry tinder pile just waiting for the slightest spark to ignite.

Behind me, their clinical discussion about our “daily reinforcement” was still ongoing, as though it were a mere footnote in some arcane textbook.

The memory left a sour taste in my mouth.

The talk had sounded so… impersonal. Like I was one part of a magic equation rather than a person barely clinging to sanity.

None of them had mentioned the suppression runes or my father’s betrayal.

Apparently, Kazimir hadn’t shared what he discovered at Evenfall Estate, choosing to keep that between us.

Some small piece of me felt grateful for his discretion.

Another part wanted to scream at him for focusing on the artifact while my world kept crumbling.

I fought the urge to let magic crackle across my fingertips. That not-quite-anger still hummed under my skin, constantly threatening to burst out in an uncontrolled show of force.

“Lady Blackrose.”

I nearly stumbled at Vex’s voice. She appeared beside me with that unsettling grace of hers, falling into step as I stormed down the corridor.

“A word?” she asked.

She guided me to a narrow alcove behind a column. A pair of servants scurried past without looking up, no doubt aware I was the Dark Lord’s bride who occasionally released dramatic bursts of magic while in the throes of passion.

“You’re upset,” she stated, getting right to the point.

“I’m just tired,” I bluffed. I was twisting the edge of my sleeve, which probably gave me away.

“And overwhelmed,” she added, folding her arms. “And furious with him.”

I leaned back against the cool stone. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only if you know the signs. I’ve served Lord Blackrose long enough to recognize certain patterns.” Her tone stayed matter-of-fact. “He’s not good at this, you know. The emotional part.”

A hollow laugh slipped out of me. “Really hadn’t noticed.”

One corner of her mouth twitched. “He understands rage. He practically breathes it. But tenderness, attachment… those scare him more than death—always have. He’s clumsy when it matters most.”

I blinked, uncertain how to process that level of honesty from Vex. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because despite his infinite flaws—and trust me, I could list them alphabetically—he’s different with you. And I think you’re different with him.”

I tried to shrug it off, but she just raised her eyebrow in that infuriating way. So I busied my hands, plucking a stray thread from my skirt.

“We have a mutually beneficial arrangement,” I said.

“Call it what you like.” She gave a low chuckle. “But I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”

I let out a disbelieving snort. “Like I’m a useful tool to power his artifact?”

“Like you’re a fire he can’t decide whether to extinguish or throw himself into.”

The electric prickles in my veins grew more intense. If what she said was true, it meant Kazimir felt the same way I did.

“Just don’t give up on him too quickly,” Vex said, pushing away from the wall. “He’s learning. Slower than a concussed tortoise, but learning nonetheless.”

With that, she slipped away into the corridor, and I was left with my swirling thoughts. Each heartbeat felt too loud. When I reached the junction that would lead to our chambers, I hesitated. My magic built inside me like storm clouds pressed too tight together.

“To hell with this,” I muttered, changing direction.

I stormed into the training room, letting the heavy door slam behind me. The wards etched into the stone floor glowed faintly, reacting to the surge of power that pulsed through my body.

Everything felt wrong. Kazimir’s advisors discussing our intimacy like an ongoing experiment. The Heirloom refusing to stabilize. Kazimir being so attentive one moment and so consumed with his goals the next. And beneath it all seethed my festering rage at my father.

Focus your anger. Use it. That voice in my head sounded too much like Kazimir’s. But it made sense. There was no escaping the fury swirling inside me, so I might as well channel it somewhere.

I moved to the center of the circle, knelt, and placed my palms flat against the cold floor. Warm, roiling energy pulsed under my skin. “I don’t need anyone,” I whispered. “I’ll figure this out myself.”

First, I tried forming the energy bird like I’d done once before.

But this time, I’d do it without siphoning the essence of any living creature.

I wanted to prove I could create something purely from my own magic.

I closed my eyes. Power ignited deep within me, hot and bright.

I shaped it, coaxed it, demanded it obey.

A spark quivered between my hands, almost forming wings, then shattered in a burst of wild magic.

I landed hard on my backside. My once-fine day dress hung in tatters around me, the blue fabric scorched and torn beyond salvaging. That’s what I got for storming in here to throw magical tantrums without bothering to change into my training leathers.

“Damn it!” I slammed my fist against the floor. The stone cracked in a spiderweb of fissures radiating outward. I stared at the damage in disbelief. The raw might reverberated through me.

I tried again. And again. Each time, I hovered painfully close to success before the construct destabilized. Residual force ricocheted around the chamber, saved only by the thick wards that Kazimir had installed for exactly these sorts of outbursts.

On the seventh attempt, I finally shaped the bird. It floated on shimmering wings for a miraculous few seconds—long enough to see each feather outlined in soft, purple-white light—before it dissolved into flickers.

“Why won’t you stay together?” I shouted at the empty space, fighting the sting in my eyes. I surged to my feet and wiped the sweat from my forehead. My hands trembled from the excess energy still coursing through me.

I turned on the row of wooden training dummies by the wall, each with a blank, mocking face.

My magic practically roared for release.

Snarling, I slammed a surge of energy into the nearest dummy.

It exploded in a hail of straw and splinters.

Flames caught the next one. The air filled with burnt straw, smoke, and crackling energy.

It felt good .

I moved down the line, unleashing my rage.

Dummies shattered, burned, twisted. One collapsed in an oozing puddle.

Stray embers floated everywhere. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

By the time I reached the end of the row, I was breathing hard from exhilaration.

My whole body hummed with power, more alive than I’d ever felt.

The training chamber looked like a war zone. Bits of straw floated in the air. Scorch marks blackened the walls. The acrid smell of smoke hung heavy.

I returned to the center circle, determined to master the energy bird. This time, instead of forcing the magic into the shape I wanted, I visualized it already complete and perfect. I held that image in my mind, crystal clear, and then simply... invited the magic to fill it.

Slowly, it coalesced. My core trembled with an almost gentle warmth, and I felt a flutter near my fingertips.

Opening my eyes, I saw a small bird made of shimmering light perched on my cupped palms. My breath caught.

Every feather glinted in an array of colors, shifting as though capturing starlight.

The bird hovered there, fully formed, its wings beating in perfect silence.

It was more beautiful than the one I’d created from the mouse’s life force, because this one came purely from me.

From my magic. From my will. Its tiny weight felt like nothing, yet I could sense the connection between us—a thread of magic linking creator and creation.

Well done, it seemed to whisper.

Three seconds. Four. Five. Then it dissolved, its essence rolling back into me. That time, the bird left a soft echo behind. Stunned, I created it again, faster, stronger. It flew lazy loops around my head, then perched on my finger.

I lost track of how long I practiced. Each conjured bird grew more elaborate, some singing voiceless songs that resonated in my mind. Others flitted through the swirling smoke overhead before winking out.

I barely noticed my scorched dress or the straw littering the chamber. I just felt… free. Slowly, the anger and fear seeped out of me, replaced by pure joy in what I could do when no one was holding me back.

“They’re beautiful.”

I jumped, nearly losing hold of the glowing phoenix-bird perched on my fingertips. It dissolved in a swirl of red-gold motes. My heart lurched as I turned. Kazimir stood against the door, arms folded, expression carefully neutral.

“How long have you been standing there?” I demanded, suddenly conscious of my tattered dress and the destruction surrounding me.

He pushed off from the door and took a few steps in. “Long enough to see you tear through half my training equipment, then create something remarkable.”

“I’ll… replace those dummies,” I offered, glancing at the charred husks that lined the back wall.

He waved them off. “I have more. Though I should order them in bulk if this becomes a habit.”

Despite myself, I smiled. “How often do you hide in the shadows to spy on me?”

“Never,” he said, and I could tell it was the truth. “I wasn’t hiding now, either. You were simply so focused that you didn’t notice me enter.”

“That’s... concerning.”

“It’s something to work on.” Kazimir studied the scorched, cracked floor. Then regarded me with a strange softness. “But you looked magnificent.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Weren’t you busy with the Heirloom?” The question sounded defensive, even to me.

A momentary shadow crossed his face. “I was. But… I missed you.”

That simple statement stole the breath from my lungs. I narrowed my eyes, trying to spot any manipulation. I found only sincere weariness etched in the lines around his mouth.

“You... missed me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” He stopped a few feet away, respecting my space.

“Yes, the Heirloom is important. But… you’re important, too.

Not just because of the power you bring.

Because…” He sucked in a breath, as though he hated admitting it.

“Because of this thing between us, whatever it is. It’s. .. new. For me.”

It was perhaps the least eloquent I’d ever seen the Dark Lord, and strangely, that made his words more meaningful. Though I still didn’t know whether to feel flattered or angry. My magic prickled on my skin, uncertain which emotion to feed on.

“I missed you, too,” I confessed. “Even though you infuriate me sometimes.”

“I noticed.” His gaze flicked to the demolished training dummies. “Remind me never to truly anger you.”

“Too late for that.” But there was no heat in my words.

He took another step closer and smiled, an honest, rueful curve of his mouth. “Show me another bird?”

I hesitated, suddenly self-conscious. “They’re not perfect yet.”

“Show me anyway.”

I took a deep breath and drew magic from the reservoir inside me, shaping a small bird with shimmering midnight feathers. It flitted from my fingertips to Kazimir’s outstretched hand, perching there as though examining him. His eyes glowed with fascination.

“You’ve done this in an afternoon,” he murmured. “Conjured a complex construct that most mages can’t manage after years of study.”

The bird preened under his attention, then flew back to me, settling on my shoulder. I reached up to stroke its shimmering feathers with a fingertip. “I didn’t use life force this time.”

He trailed his gaze along the shredded skirt exposing my legs, the scorched sleeves leaving my arms bare. A darker hunger sparked in his eyes. “Yes,” he said, voice turning rough, “you used only your essence… and it’s incredible.”

Suddenly self-conscious, I let the bird dissolve. “It’s easier now, without the suppression runes. I’m not even tired.”

“They were draining you more than you realized,” he said. ‘The runes were probably built that way.”

Fresh anger flared in my chest. “My father really did think of everything.”

“Not everything.” Kazimir held out his hand to me. “He didn’t account for me.”

I placed my hand in his, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine, the quiet strength in his grip. I suddenly realized I had no idea how much time had passed. The windows high above showed only darkness. “What time is it?”

“Nearly midnight.” He gave my arm a light tug. “Come on. You should rest, even if you don’t think you need it.”

“Is that concern I hear, Lord Blackrose?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Practical advice,” he corrected, but there was a warmth in his eyes. “I have plans for you that require a certain level of... stamina.”

Heat bloomed in my cheeks, spreading down my neck. “Oh?”

“Mmm.” He tugged me closer, his lips brushing against my ear. “Very specific plans.”

My stomach chose that moment to growl.

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “When did you last eat?”

I shrugged. “Breakfast, I think.” The memory felt distant, as if it belonged to another day entirely.

“Unacceptable.” He tugged me toward the spiral staircase. “You need food.”

“Fine,” I said. “But I want a bath first. I smell like smoke and sweat.”

He leaned in, inhaling the air near my neck. The proximity made my pulse jump. “I like the way you smell after training. It reminds me of battlefields.”

“That’s... disturbing.”

“Is it?” He smiled against my skin. “Flames, sweat, victory. It’s intoxicating. I’ve barely been able to stand not telling you.”

A throb of longing pulsed through my body. My fingers curled against his chest, feeling the quick drumming of his heart.

“Bath,” I insisted. “Then food.”

“As my lady commands.”