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CLAIM EACH OTHER PROPERLY (NO ARTIFACTS WERE HARMED)

ARABELLA

The frigid wind didn’t give a damn about my custom training leathers, even if they were magically reinforced.

It ripped across the desolate chunk of rock masquerading as an island, finding every tear and thin spot in my gear.

Still, I mentally thanked Kazimir for commissioning these leathers; they had saved me from being crushed before I put the Heirloom on my head.

I huddled near the base of a gnarled, lifeless-looking tree, knees pulled tight to my chest. My head throbbed with a dull ache, and the Heirloom felt different—no longer the cold, demanding artifact it once was, but humming with a quiet, steady current of life that resonated in my bones. Taking it off felt… wrong.

Despite that low glow of magic, I was bone-deep exhausted. When I tried coaxing some warmth out of my power, a pathetic flicker of flame sputtered in my cupped palms before dying. I had nothing left to give.

Through the bond, I sensed Kazimir like a distant echo. He was alive, but I couldn’t tell if he was angry, wounded, or both. Facing his wrath after completing the ritual alone wasn’t high on my list of desired activities.

A sharp screech tore through the howling wind. My heart lurched, and I struggled to stand, every muscle protesting. There, against the deepening twilight, I saw Nyx’s familiar silhouette, her dark wings spread wide as she circled overhead.

Relief hit me so hard I nearly collapsed back onto the rocky ground. Nyx landed in a crouch of thudding claws and nudged my hand, offering a hopeful puff of warm breath. Then her head snapped up, ears flattening as a low rumble vibrated in her chest.

Behind me, the air cracked open.

A portal flared, hissing violet sparks, and Kazimir stepped through.

The instant his boots hit stone, that constant knot of emptiness lifted.

Relief flooded me so intensely I had to drag in a breath just to keep my balance.

Bloody cuts streaked his face, and the set of his jaw looked etched by pure exhaustion.

He clutched one side as though it might come loose if he let go.

He looked wrecked. Terrible. And devastatingly beautiful.

“Arabella,” he rasped, voice rough with fatigue and something painfully raw.

“Took you long enough,” I managed. My usual snark wavered on cracked vocal cords.

The corner of his mouth slid into a faint twitch. “Traffic was hell. Too many idiot knights redecorating my corridors with their entrails.”

Then we collided. Maybe I moved first, maybe he did. His arms locked around me in a grip that felt less like possession and more like frantic relief, and I clung back like I needed his heartbeat to stay upright. Ours pounded together in a tangled, desperate rhythm.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured against my hair.

“And you’re bleeding,” I shot back, glaring at the gash above his brow. I braced for a lecture about me performing the ritual alone. But his storm-gray eyes just devoured me with undisguised relief, no anger at all.

I swallowed my own flood of emotions, pressing a trembling palm to his wound. “Hold still.” The trickle of magic I offered knitted the skin just enough to stop the bleeding. He inhaled sharply, gratitude flickering along our bond.

“Don’t waste your strength,” he muttered, his hand slipping to the back of my neck. His fingers shook as they tangled in my hair.

“It was never a waste.” Lifting my gaze, I whispered, “You came.”

A storm of feeling flickered over his face. “When the tower fell… I could barely sense you.” He swallowed, and the memory seemed to gouge into him. “I was… concerned.”

That small, raw confession shattered my remaining defenses. “I worried about you too,” I said softly.

We fell silent for a moment, overshadowed by everything undone—the fortress in rubble, the battle we’d survived, the risk we both took.

“Skyspire?” I finally managed.

His jaw clenched. “Mostly standing.” The ruthless edge in his voice suggested everything else had been handled with typical Kazimir viciousness. “The Guild survivors are contemplating their life choices in the dungeons. Lightbringer sends his regards.”

A cold ripple of satisfaction ran through me. “Good.”

Nyx pressed her nose against my shoulder, apparently bored of our emotional display. Kazimir’s arm tightened protectively around my waist as I swayed, exhaustion hitting me again.

“She led me here,” he said, nodding at Nyx.

I stroked the dragon’s snout. “Good girl.” Nyx responded with a faint, brimstone-scented huff.

Kazimir watched her warily, weariness etched into every line of his face. “You could’ve gone with them,” he said quietly. “Played the damsel.”

At the thought of going back to Solandris—isolated, caged—I felt a surge of nausea. Holding Kazimir’s gaze, I said, “I’d rather wrestle a kraken naked than live that life again.”

His grip on my hip tightened by a fraction. “So you choose Lady Blackrose?” The question landed like a challenge…and an invitation. He needed to hear me say it, I realized.

The name settled on me with a fierce sense of belonging. “I’m still figuring out the job description,” I admitted, “but yes. I choose this.”

Another violent gust of wind slammed into us, and I shivered. Wordlessly, Kazimir shrugged off his tattered coat and draped it over my shoulders. It smelled of him—of steel and shadow magic and old blood. I burrowed into it.

He scanned the barren landscape. “I don’t have enough left in me to form a stable portal. We’re stuck here until sunrise.”

I nodded, my entire body sagging under fresh waves of fatigue.

We moved to the twisted tree, where I all but collapsed against the rough bark.

He settled beside me, our shoulders brushing.

Nyx stretched out her wing to give us a crude windbreak.

Her proximity gave us the warmth of a fire, and I sighed in relief.

The short silence was filled by howling gusts and the occasional snort from Nyx. Distant stars cut through the darkness, cold and uncaring.

“I kept fighting it,” I said after a moment, my voice barely carrying over the wind. “This… whatever it is between us.”

He stilled beside me. I swallowed and continued, “Not because I didn’t want it. Gods… Want doesn’t cover it. I was terrified of losing myself in you—of not knowing who I’d be if I wasn’t fighting you all the time.”

For a few heartbeats, he said nothing. Then he spoke in a low voice, “I understand that fear.”

I turned toward his silhouette, the sharp angles of his face outlined by dim starlight. “Do you?”

He nodded. “I was taught that power demands isolation, that attachment becomes a liability.” A hint of bitterness threaded his tone.

My chest ached at the thought of what horrors shaped him this way. I took his hand and laced our fingers together, noticing how cold his skin felt. “They were wrong.”

He looked at me with a flicker of fragile hope.

I cleared my throat, trying not to drown in those mesmerizing eyes.

“I used to think vulnerability was weakness, that caring meant handing someone a blade to stab you in the back. But after everything… fighting you, fighting for you, and with you… I don’t feel weaker, Kazimir.

I feel…” The word got caught in my throat. “More.”

He searched my eyes. “As do I,” he whispered unsteadily. “And that scares me more than facing an entire army of self-righteous knights.”

A small smile tugged at my lips. “The infamous Dark Lord Kazimir Blackrose, cowering before emotions?”

He let out a brief laugh. “Gods forbid Vex catches wind of it.”

“She’d hold a betting pool with Griffin and then lecture you on emotional availability,” I said drily.

His hand lifted to my jaw, tipping my head to meet his gaze. The simple contact sent fire racing through my veins. “Perhaps,” he said softly, brushing his thumb against my lip, “I’m only available to you.”

Heat kindled low in my belly. “Is that so?” I asked, my voice lowering in challenge.

He leaned in, intruding on the last of my personal space. “It is.”

When his lips finally met mine, the kiss started with a gentle, searching hush… then flared into something deeper. Relief—sheer, staggering relief—flooded me. I flung my arms around his neck, the Heirloom pressing against my forehead as I lost myself in him.

He groaned into my mouth, pulling me closer until I landed on his lap, straddling him. My muscles protested the movement, but my body refused to care. Over the wind, I heard him murmur my name, raw and needy.

I rocked my hips experimentally, feeling the unmistakable hardness between us. He hissed through his teeth, grip tightening on my waist. Our kiss went wild—urgent, fierce, tasting of blood and exhaustion and longing.

“I’ve imagined this every night,” he panted between kisses. “Since the damned library?—”

“Stranded out here,” I teased, “freezing our butts off with Nyx watching like a scandalized chaperone?”

Kazimir’s teeth flashed in a grin, his breath ragged. “Especially the chaperone.”

A snorting huff from Nyx suggested her displeasure. I was about to laugh, but Kazimir’s thumb traced the underside of my breast, and I forgot how to breathe.

“Tell me,” he demanded, voice thick with hunger. “What do you want?”

“Everything,” I confessed. “You. All of you.”

His eyes blazed. “As my lady commands.”

He eased me onto his ragged coat, covering my body with his. He kissed the line of my jaw, moving down my throat, teeth grazing where my pulse hammered. A moan tore out of me as I dug my fingers into his shoulders.

“Too many clothes,” I mumbled, fumbling with half-frozen laces. My fingers trembled so badly that I cursed under my breath.

He chuckled darkly. “Impatient, aren’t we?”

“You started it.”

His grin looked positively wicked. “Then I’ll finish it.

” In one swift motion, he tore away the remains of his shirt and tossed it aside.

Moonlight etched the runes and old scars that mapped his torso.

Fresh bruises peppered his flesh, and my anger flared at whoever inflicted them.

I reached out and traced a jagged rune near his heart. It flickered beneath my touch.

His breath hitched. He did the same for me—helping rid me of the last tattered scraps of cloth until I was bare to the cold night air. But his gaze was so hot it practically seared my skin.

“Touch me,” I breathed.

He did more than touch. His hands followed the curve of my waist, the shape of my breasts, setting every nerve ablaze.

I arched off the coat with a needy cry. He pressed his mouth to my breast, swirling his tongue until I moaned, half delirious.

His other hand slipped lower, dragging a ragged gasp out of me as he found the damp heat between my thighs.

“Kaz,” I begged, thighs quivering against his wrist.

His eyes swept up, intense and dark. “Tell me again, Arabella. What do you want?”

A half-sob, half-laugh tore through me. “You. Inside me… now.”

He gave a wicked smile. “Demanding. I like that.”

He shifted over me, kissing me hard while I fumbled with his trousers until he helped me wrestle them off. Finally, my hand closed around his erection, hard and hot and thick. He made a low, guttural sound, bracing himself.

When he entered me, I felt the world tilt. The stretch burned sweetly as he filled me. My breath caught, tears stinging my eyes at the sheer intensity.

He bowed his head, teeth clenched. “Gods, you feel?—”

“Move,” I commanded, legs locked around his waist.

He did, setting a rhythm that shattered all sense of time and place.

Our moans echoed off the stones, half-lost to the howling wind.

Tiny sparks of magic danced over our skin, combining in golden light twisted with shadow, weaving us tighter.

My heart pounded so hard I felt it in my throat.

I had no magic left to give, but the Heirloom seemed to pulse with it.

Like it was returning a measure of power.

I saw the surprise flicker in his eyes, mirroring my own.

“Don’t fight it,” I managed, grabbing his forearms when his eyes widened in alarm at the sudden surge of energy. “Let it happen… with me.”

He gave a frantic nod. Our magic meshed in that moment, that swirl of golden and dark. It poured into each thrust as the tension coiled in my core, building far too fast. My nails raked his back, and I urged him on.

“Arabella,” he groaned, edges of his control shredding. His thrusts became deeper, faster, rougher. “Come with me?”

“Yes,” I gasped, the final coil tightening in my belly. “ Now! ”

The climax slammed into me. I shouted his name, my body racked by wave after wave, my vision sparking white. He tensed with a ragged moan that tore from his chest, surrendering to his own release. The magic flared around us in a bright arc, then fizzled into the quiet dark.

He stayed there, breathing raggedly against my neck, our bodies still joined. Finally, he rolled onto his side, pulling me tight against him. Shaking fingers brushed the hair from my face. The Heirloom pulsed gently on my head, content for once.

His voice was low and hoarse. “I never wanted attachments. But… losing you?” He swallowed hard. “I’d be even more lost without you.”

Tears burned behind my eyelids. “Kaz…” I pressed my forehead to his, sharing breath in the quiet. In his expression, I saw too many emotions to name but also a spark of mischief that made my heart pound all over again.

He kissed me then, slowly, with impossible tenderness. I kissed him back, letting go of the fear, of the fight, of everything but him. Falling still felt terrifying. But maybe falling together wasn’t falling at all. Maybe it was finally finding solid ground.