Page 34 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating
At once, the mood in the chamber shifted. Vex, Griffin, Sims, and Thorne moved to their assigned positions. It was almost refreshing to see them snap into professional focus, like a severely dysfunctional family that only bonded over hardcore villainy.
“My lord, everything is prepared as you requested,” Sims announced with a clipped bow.
I guided Arabella toward the dais. The Heirloom glowed faintly, answering our combined magic. Her lineage, my rune-carved bones… together we had enough raw power to blow up Skyspire just by arguing too intensely. The thought thrilled me more than it should have.
“The ritual is straightforward,” I explained, trying to keep my voice steady. “We stand in the innermost circle. I recite the activation phrase, you place the Heirloom on my head, and the marriage bond should satisfy the bloodline requirement.”
“Should,” she repeated, arching one of her perfect brows.
“Will,” I corrected, holding her gaze. “The blood tests confirmed it.”
She shot me a pointed look at the mention of those tests—still a thorn in her side, apparently—but said nothing. Instead, she focused on the Heirloom with a generous measure of doubt etched across her face. “It doesn’t look like much.”
“The most powerful artifacts rarely do.” I extended my hand. She only paused for a heartbeat before slipping her fingers into mine. Together, we stepped into that innermost circle of runes.
The instant our feet crossed the boundary, scarlet light pulsed outward, flooding the stones in concentric circles. The air thickened, pressing in on every inch of my skin. Arabella took a sharp breath beside me, her grip on my hand turning ironclad.
Steeling myself, I positioned her on the opposite side of the pedestal. The Heirloom, a simple golden circlet, seemed to drink in the crimson glow. This was it. Years of planning, searching, and killing… all culminating here.
I recited the incantation, the harsh words grinding out of my throat. Dark power crackled through every rune carved into my bones, and I nearly winced at the familiar, searing pain. Internally, I cursed my mother for the thousandth time.Externally, I maintained my usual “I have everything under control” sneer.
When I finished, I nodded to Arabella. She delicately picked up the circlet. Her eyes widened as golden ripples danced across the surface, answering her presence. Then those same eyes flicked to me, gauging me, revealing that flicker—doubt? Resolve? Something that made my heartbeat stumble. She inhaled long and deep, then stood on tiptoes to place the circlet on my brow.
For one endless second, I felt nothing but the chill of metal against my hairline. Then the lines along the circlet flared. Magic surged through me, raw and heady. I sensed worldwide ley lines flickering at the edge of my consciousness, trillions of threads of energy just waiting to be molded.
Yes, I thought hungrily. This is what it would feel like to command entire realms.
I reached for that power, extending my will along the nearest ley line?—
And then… nothing.
The magic winked out as though I had imagined it. The air lost its electric charge, and the circlet dimmed, leaving me wearing an unimposing bit of metal. My heart plummeted from my chest.
“W-what’s happening?” Arabella asked in a hushed voice.
My muscles locked as I yanked the circlet off my head, scanning it with furious intensity. The lines on the surface had gone completely dark. I slammed it onto the pedestal, my hands shaking. “It didn’t work,” I snarled through gritted teeth, letting my shadows writhe at my feet.
Griffin approached, swallowing nervously. “Maybe a mispronounced?—”
“There was. No. Error.” I bit off each word. “I’ve studied this ritual for years.”
“Then maybe the problem isn’t the ritual,” Vex suggested, her sharp gaze falling on Arabella. “Might be the bloodline?”
Arabella’s entire body bristled.
“Her bloodline is not the issue,” I snapped, my dominion magic crackling through the floor. “She carries the First Hero’s blood, strong and true.”
“Then what went wrong?” Vex demanded, crossing her arms.
“I don’t know,” I said, and I hated admitting that. The air itself felt too thin. I reeled in my shadows, noticing one of them had nearly strangled Griffin where he stood. With a sigh, I waved it back. “But I intend to find out.”
I steadied myself with a deep breath. “Griffin, analyze the artifact. Check for tampering. Sims, review each step of the ritual text for any hidden disclaimers. Vex, see if we’ve had unwelcome interference. Thorne, lock down the tower. No one enters or leaves without my direct permission.”
They hurried off to their assignments, though Thorne paused by the door. “And the lady?” he asked carefully.
I turned to Arabella. Despite everything, she’d done as requested. I couldn’t even muster the rationalization to blame her for this. “Lady Blackrose stays with me,” I said, letting my words resound off the walls.
Her brows lifted, but she said nothing as the others filed out. Once the door shut, I circled the now-empty pedestal. Griffin was examining the artifact. The runes glowed faintly with each step, mocking my frustration. We had the real Heirloom. We had the correct incantation. We had the right bloodline. Why the hells had it failed?
