Chapter 10 Merge with a Magical Artifact #2
“Why does the Heirloom need dominion magic to work?” I asked. “If Soriven created it, did he also wield dominion magic?”
Kazimir groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Gods, Arabella, I don’t know. I’ve spent years trying to decipher that thrice-damned trinket, and now it seems utterly pointless. It’s a corrupted, useless piece of—”
“It’s fused to my head.” I gave his back a light shove. “So I’d say it’s still rather relevant.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “Fine. From what I’ve pieced together, Soriven didn’t wield dominion magic. He was a light mage—what your people would call a ‘hero.’ But he understood that light and shadow must exist in balance. The Heirloom was designed to channel both.”
I frowned. “But if it needs dominion magic to work properly, and Soriven couldn’t provide that…”
“Then he must have had help. Someone with dominion magic who worked alongside him. The historical records are frustratingly vague.”
I slid around to face him, my hand on his shoulder. “Do you think that’s why the Heirloom bonded with me? Because I have both types of magic?”
“It’s possible. Your bloodline gives you an affinity for light magic, but you’ve also embraced the shadows. You’re a bridge between the two.”
I flopped back against the pillows, suddenly too tired for more revelations. “What happens now?”
Kazimir was silent for a moment. “We’ll need to make a decision soon—return to Solandris with whatever we’ve got, or officially retreat and regroup.” His jaw tightened. “I’m not ready to retreat.”
“How much time do we have?”
The mattress shifted as Kazimir stretched out beside me, his bare skin warm through my thin silk. “I’d say we have a little time to kill before Griffin gets back.” He trailed a finger over my stomach. “The trick is to adapt.”
I rolled onto my side, and his hand came to rest on my hip. “Is that what you’re doing now? Adapting to the fact that your precious artifact is now melted to my forehead?”
Something flickered in his eyes—a shadow of earlier rage, quickly suppressed. “It was never about the artifact itself. It was about what it could help me achieve.”
“And now?”
He was silent for a long moment. Then he traced the Heirloom’s outline on my forehead, his touch featherlight. “Now, I trust that it’s exactly where it needs to be.”
The simple statement stole my breath. Trust. From Kazimir Blackrose, who trusted no one, who built his empire on fear and control. Trust was the most precious gift he could offer.
The knot in my chest loosened. “I was worried. When you were raging about your decade-long quest… it was like I didn’t exist. And if I hadn’t fought you so hard in the beginning, if we’d activated the Heirloom sooner, maybe Auremar wouldn’t have had time to corrupt the ley lines.”
Kazimir’s expression softened. “I wouldn’t trade what we have now for anything—not one argument, not one battle of wills, not one night of you telling me to go fuck myself.” I snorted. “Not even for having activated the Heirloom before Auremar could interfere.”
It wasn’t a declaration of love. But from Kazimir, it was as close as I’d ever heard. It was enough for now.
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. His hand slid to my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled me closer.
When we broke apart, he smirked. “Besides, now that the Heirloom has decided to take up permanent residence in your skull, I suppose I’ll have to keep you around.”
“You’re stuck with me, Dark Lord.”
He shifted to prop himself against the headboard, looking down at me with a smug expression as if to say it was the other way around. He ran a finger down my jawline.
I sat up to face him. “Why didn’t you force me? When you first brought me here?”
Kazimir’s hand stilled, his eyes searching mine. “What?”
“After you kidnapped me,” I hurried to explain. “You needed me to activate the Heirloom. You could have forced me. Plenty of men with less power have done worse, for no reason at all.” I swallowed hard. “Obviously, I’m glad you didn’t. But… was it because of what your father did to your mother?”
His expression darkened. “I’d never cross that line, no matter what. Not ever.”
The raw honesty made my heart ache. For all his darkness, all the blood on his hands, there were some evils even the Dark Lord wouldn’t commit.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
His answering smile was small but genuine. “Don’t thank me for basic decency, Arabella. It sets the bar rather low.”
I laughed. “Fair enough.” I straddled his hips. My nightdress rode up my thighs, and I felt his immediate response to our new position.
Kazimir’s hands settled on my waist, thumbs tracing circles on my hipbones. “Why do you insist on wearing these things to bed? I’m just going to take it off.”
I rocked my hips over his erection. “Maybe I like you taking it off.”
His eyes darkened with desire. In one swift motion, he hooked his fingers in the neckline and tore. The silk ripped clean down the middle.
“Kaz!” I yelped, more surprised than upset.
“I’ll buy you a new one.” He pushed the torn fabric off my shoulders. “Maybe I’ll rip that one too.” His hands gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him. “Now ride me.”