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“I’m not sure what I enjoy more. Seeing the way you grip a sword . . . or the way your dress grips you.”
“And I don’t know what I enjoy more. Replaying the image of my sword against your throat . . . or thinking about how your heart might look on my plate.” Grim’s dark eyes flashed with amusement. “Careful, Hearteater,” he whispered, towering over her, standing far too close. “I might just give it to you.”
Grim was shielding her. She could feel his breath against her forehead. Isla tried not to focus on what else she could feel. His tight grip on her waist, the cold emanating from him searing through the thin fabric of her stolen clothing. The chill that licked her spine like night blossoming in her bones.
She was pressed against the wall, and he towered over her, head bent so low his nose almost grazed hers. He looked down at her. “Have you decided to change realms, Heart-eater?” he said, reaching up and taking a strand of her colored hair between his fingers. “If so, you might consider Nightshade. We can’t compete with Skyling when it comes to sweets or inventive drinks, but if debauchery is what you’re after . . .” His dark gaze gleamed in amusement. “We are most famed for our thorough exploration of pleasure.” What was he implying? His hands were still on her waist, his fingers long against
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“If you need help undressing, allow me to offer my services, Hearteater.”
“And I might—if I didn’t think you would hate me for it.”
Grim took a step toward her. Took her hand into his with such brazen possession that she nearly took it back. “To dance with you, of course.”
His hand ran a slow trail down her spine—then up once more. “Hearteater,” he said into her ear. “You’re killing me.”
“I know you are more than capable of protecting yourself,” he said, head bent low, breath against her nearly bare shoulder. “But should you ever need me, touch this. And I will come for you.”
What was clear was that he had risked his flair being found out, for her.
“Grim . . .” she said, voice unsteady. “What’s wrong with me?” A ruler born without power was an oyster without its pearl. Grim’s eyes flashed with anger. “Nothing, absolutely nothing, is wrong with you, heart,” he said. Then he took her into his arms. She stayed there, trembling. “I think they’re going to kill me,” she said quietly, then looked up at him. He surprised her by smiling. He placed his hand carefully against her cheek. “If anyone makes a move to harm you, I will ruin them and their entire realm.” His fingers trailed down her face, past her throat, then tugged gently on the pendant
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Grim had the nerve to still feign confusion, though the corners of his lips twitched, fighting not to grin. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said. “But . . . from what I’m hearing . . . and sensing . . . it might be one I would enjoy hearing more about . . .”
“I need you to do something for me,” she said, her voice finally steady. “Anything.”
The door slammed open so hard it seemed close to shattering, and she whirled around to see Grim, running, frantic. His eyes were wide—filled with fear. His breath was wild. There was a sword by his side. He was in front of her in an instant. “Heart—are you hurt?” His giant hands cupped both sides of her face, thumbs at the corners of her lips, studying her for any damage.
“I haven’t told you what you do to me.” She blinked. “What?” “I haven’t told you that you’ve ruined me.” “Ruined?” He nodded. “Ruined. Tortured. You haven’t stopped tormenting me since the first moment I saw you.” Isla opened her mouth. Closed it. Considered apologizing, even. Grim continued. “A few conversations with you, and I was ready to make the most disadvantageous trade—all of me in exchange for any part of you you’d be willing to spare.” He shook his head. “You have invaded my mind. I have questioned my sanity. I think about you all the time.” The way he said all the time had her
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“Look at me, heart. I want to watch you come undone.”
Isla turned to leave but stopped when she heard, “Hearteater.” His voice broke on the word. She faced him. “I thought you were dead.”
“I’ll give you anything,” he said immediately. “Anything you need. Anything of mine. It’s yours.”
“I’m not good at following rules, remember?”
Love on Lightlark is a dangerous thing. Someone she loved was using her abilities.

