Page 58

SHATTER YOUR TOY (AND LOSE YOUR PRIVILEGES)

ARABELLA

I raced through the corridors alongside Kazimir, still catching my breath after our reckless library experiment.

My legs felt like jelly, a humiliating blend of continued arousal and pure adrenaline.

Everywhere we turned, servants and guards rushed past in a panic, likely convinced the whole fortress was about to crumble around us.

I clung to Kazimir’s hand, and he gripped so tightly it almost hurt. We dodged rubble-strewn hallways and the occasional frantic staff member until we reached the spiral staircase leading to the eastern tower.

My heart lurched when I saw the damage. The staircase had partly collapsed, chunks of stone scattered across the floor. Kazimir scrambled over the debris first, then extended an arm to haul me up.

“Be careful,” he warned, gripping my arm as a stone shifted beneath my boot. “If you fall and break your neck after surviving all this, I’ll be extremely annoyed.”

“Easy, Kaz,” I muttered. “I might think you actually care about me.”

We managed to climb over the broken steps and stumbled into the tower room. I gasped. The wooden door had been blasted off its hinges, shattered into kindling. An eerie purple glow flickered in the air, crackling with stray sparks of energy that set my teeth on edge.

Griffin stood near the pedestal in the chamber’s center, backlit by bright, flickering arcs of magic. His eyes were wide enough to rival an owl’s. His hair stood in frizzled tufts, and his robe was singed.

“My lord! Lady Blackrose!” he exclaimed, nearly tripping over a loose stone in his haste to reach us. “Thank the forgotten gods you’re all right. There was... I tried to?—”

“What happened?” Kazimir’s curt demand rang through the chaotic space. He stalked toward the Heirloom, leaving Griffin in his wake.

I swallowed hard as I followed, already guessing what I’d see. My blood went cold the instant I reached the pedestal.

The Heirloom of Dominion gaped with a devastating crack nearly splitting it in half. Hairline fractures branched outward in every direction, forming a lattice of ruin.

“Oh gods,” I whispered, pressing my hand to Kazimir’s arm. “It’s... it’s so much worse than before.”

He looked pale. “When did it happen?” he asked Griffin, though of course he already knew.

“About fifteen minutes ago, my lord,” Griffin admitted with a shaky glance at Kazimir—and, tellingly, at me.

“I was monitoring the artifact’s fluctuations when this surge hit.

The raw energy threw me across the room.

” He gestured to a spiderweb crack in the wall.

“By the time I woke up, the storm outside was raging, and the Heirloom was, well...”

His voice trailed off as he glanced between our disheveled clothes and the mark on my neck. I felt my cheeks heating. The timeline matched precisely with our sweaty entanglement in the library. Of course. The only thing missing was a banner reading We Just Had Sex And Broke The Crown .

Kazimir cleared his throat. “Understood, Griffin. Likely what we’d already suspected.”

Griffin’s blush deepened. “Yes, my lord. That is... quite conclusive data.”

Kazimir shot Griffin a dry look. “You don’t need to dance around it. We fucked, and the Heirloom cracked further. That’s all there is to it.”

“Kazimir!” I hissed, mortified and irritated in equal measure. He tilted his head as though asking if I wanted a more poetic version. I bit back a laugh. Even in the face of potential catastrophe, he had a knack for making me want to strangle or kiss him.

He turned serious as he surveyed the crown. “This is even worse than I anticipated.”

My gut churned. If it was beyond repair, all those twisted plans for dominion, Kazimir’s entire vendetta, my chance to carve out my own power—vanished. “Can it be fixed if we find the right method?” I asked softly.

“I don’t know.” His jaw tightened. “Griffin, any thoughts?”

Keeping a wary distance from the artifact, Griffin examined the splintered edges. “The power signature is still present, but it’s impossibly volatile. I wouldn’t recommend... well, doing anything with it.”

“Unless my goal is to blow us straight into the underworld,” Kazimir said grimly.

Before either of us could process that lovely mental image further, boots scuffed over the rubble at the door. I turned to see Vex, Sims, and Thorne picking their way through the rubble, each of them dust-streaked and frazzled.

“Report,” Kazimir commanded.

Vex took the lead. She snapped a quick glance at the battered door—then at me and Kazimir, reading an entire story on our faces, no doubt.

“Damage is extensive, but the citadel’s main structure remains intact.

We have injuries reported, some of them serious but not fatal.

Magister Vellum is in the infirmary with a bump on the head and a ruined stock of books. ”

I winced. Somehow I didn’t think he’d be so quick to make recommendations after this.

Thorne and Sims chimed in. The lightning bridges were unstable, swirling in and out of existence. The wards were strained near their limits. If the Heirloom lashed out again, we might lose more than just a few walls and staircases.

Kazimir’s expression darkened. He brushed dust off his shirt, only half listening. I didn’t blame him. My own mind reeled with the potential consequences. The entire fortress could come crashing down if the Heirloom decided to blow.

Griffin cleared his throat behind us. “There’s one more matter, my lord.”

All of us turned to him.

Griffin swallowed, fiddling with a scorched corner of his robe.

“As you requested, I’ve been researching the Heirloom’s instability since the first fractures.

Based on its reaction now, I suspect the only way to prevent further damage is for you and Lady Blackrose to.

.. well, to put it delicately... to abstain. ”

Kazimir gave the enchanter a hard stare. “Abstain.”

Griffin coughed. “Yes, my lord. From all forms of physical intimacy. If the crown is responding to your magical bond, then additional surges could prove catastrophic. The next one might not just wreck the citadel. It could destabilize the ley lines across the entire Western Realms.”

My stomach twisted. “How catastrophic are we talking?”

“Potentially devastating,” Griffin said quietly. “We could lose entire regions. Possibly more. This artifact is old enough and connected enough that if it shatters while active, the backlash might be unstoppable.”

Dread hollowed me out. I joked about wanting Solandris to burn, but not at the cost of an entire realm’s destruction. Kazimir seemed equally rattled. I noticed how his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

“Fantastic,” I said, voice dripping dark sarcasm. “We can destroy swaths of civilization while achieving Kazimir’s dream of punishing Solandris. Doesn’t that solve multiple problems at once?”

He cast me a sideways glare, though I caught a faint twitch of amusement in his mouth. “This isn’t the time for gallows humor, Arabella.”

I shrugged. “It’s my coping mechanism.”

Kazimir let out a sigh. “How long do we have to... abstain?” He said the word with a pained expression.

Griffin winced. “Weeks, maybe months—until we stabilize the Heirloom or discover a new method of containing it.”

Kazimir and I exchanged a sharp glance. I felt a sinking sense of loss that startled me with its intensity. Foolish as it was, I’d grown used to the notion of indulging in him, especially after we’d finally relented to the inevitable.

He turned to me, his expression a mixture of frustration and resignation. “Well, this complicates things.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” I muttered.

Kazimir’s eyes held mine for a long moment. “We’ll figure something out,” he said quietly, just for me. “Though I’m afraid we might have to hold off on exploring some of those fantasies of yours.”

I swallowed hard, acutely aware of our audience. “Perhaps we should focus on the potential world-ending crisis first?”

He sighed dramatically. “Always so practical.” But he turned back to the others.

Sims muttered something about a “Doom Scroll” to Thorne, but Kazimir snapped back into leader mode before I could ask questions.

He delegated orders with brisk efficiency, telling Vex to oversee repairs, instructing Thorne to double the guard to account for the strained wards, and counseling Sims to alert our outposts.

Everyone scattered, leaving just Kazimir and me in the presence of the fractured Heirloom.

I stared at the crown’s jagged edges. That crack might as well have run through me, too. Everything in my life had become shaped by this artifact—my marriage, the dark power swirling in my veins, and even the raw connection Kazimir and I shared. If it shattered, what then?

“So,” I said quietly, wrapping my arms around myself. “Does this mean that was the last time we can ever... you know?”

Kazimir’s sigh matched the weary lines on his face. “Not if I have any say in it. But for now, we have to play by the Heirloom’s rules.”

For once, I dropped the pretense of flippancy. “Then we need to fix this quickly.”

Under that familiar arrogant tilt of his chin, I saw genuine worry.

“Indeed,” he said, taking my hand. Even that small contact felt heightened.

“We’ll find a solution, Arabella. And after that.

..” His lip curled into a wicked hint of a smile.

“I have a rather long list of fantasies to work through with you.”

Despite the near-apocalypse swirling around, I felt an undeniable thrill at the thought. “Right,” I said, my voice catching. “Fantasies.”

We stood there, both ignoring the flickering purple aura that threatened us all, locked in some twisted attempt at romantic tension. Then, like the universe needed to remind us of bigger problems, a tremor groaned through the stone walls.

We jerked apart.

“Let’s go,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “We’ve got a realm to save—so we can ruin it on our own terms.”

Kazimir’s laugh was low and begrudgingly affectionate. “What a practical sentiment. You really do fit right in with me, Lady Blackrose.”