Page 18

Hakan

S leep had always been a struggle, but since my memories fully returned, I'd been tormented by two years' worth of recovered experiences.

Every night brought dreams of what I'd lost—Ada's laughter, her trust, our future together.

Worse were the memories of what I'd become: the casual cruelties, the cold calculations, the monster I'd been while my father's spell held firm.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her—running from me, fighting me, her light magic flaring in defiance.

The pain was constant, too—a deep, inexplicable ache that had begun two years ago when my father's spell began to fade. The sensation was unlike anything I’d experienced before—not quite physical, not quite magical, but something that resonated in the very core of my being.

What troubled me most was how I felt pain whenever I hurt her—as if our bond was punishing me for my cruelty. The sensation had started when my memories returned, and now it flared every time I caused her suffering.

But tonight, something else consumed me—a suspicion that had been growing since my memories returned. A paranoia that gnawed at my mind like a parasite.

Ada was hiding something. Something that had driven her to risk everything in that foolish escape attempt. Something worth facing my wrath to protect. And for a brief, maddening moment, one possibility tormented me.

She loves someone else.

The idea stabbed through me, sparking jealousy I had no right to feel.

. Her desperation to escape, her willingness to endure my cruelty rather than submit—could it be because her heart belonged to another?

But even while the jealousy consumed me, something felt wrong about that explanation.

This wasn’t the behavior of a woman hiding a lover.

This was something else entirely. Something deeper.

I prowled through my chambers, shadows responding to my agitation by twisting and writhing across the walls. Whatever she was protecting, it wasn’t romantic love. The energy I sensed through our bond was different—warmer, more precious. But what could inspire such fierce, desperate protection?

The question burned through me. What secret was worth such suffering? What was she hiding that mattered more than her own safety?

I reached through our bond, sensing Ada’s consciousness dimmed in sleep.

Her guardian was absent—I had deliberately waited for the fox’s nightly hunting routine, having observed her patterns over the past few days.

Whatever secret Ada harbored, whatever she was so desperately protecting, I would have the truth tonight.

I glanced at the timepiece on the wall. Just past midnight. The household slept, save for the night guards patrolling the perimeter. No one would interfere with what I was about to do. No one would question their lord’s authority.

I grabbed a black shirt, pulling it on when I made my way silently through the mansion’s darkened corridors. Two guards stood at attention outside Ada’s door, placed there after her escape attempt. At my approach, they immediately straightened.

“ Return to the main hall and remain there until I summon you,” I commanded.

They hesitated only briefly before bowing and retreating. I opened her door without knocking, shadows preceding me into the room. Ada lay sleeping, her dark hair spilled across the pillow, her face unguarded in a way she never allowed when awake.

For a moment—just one treacherous moment—I remembered waking beside her in the years before everything had shattered.

The peaceful weight of her against my chest, the scent of her skin in morning light.

Had she given this intimacy to another? The possessive rage that surged through me was primal, consuming, though I couldn’t understand why I even cared.

“Wake up,” I said coldly, and reached out to grasp her shoulder.

She jolted awake instantly, instinctively calling light magic to her fingertips before she’d even fully registered who loomed over her bed.

“What are you?—?”

“Get dressed,” I interrupted, and tossed a simple robe at her. “You have one minute.”

Confusion mingled with fear in her eyes, quickly replaced by defiance. “It’s the middle of the night. Whatever game you’re playing?—”

“Fifty seconds.” I turned my back to her. “Or I’ll drag you there in whatever you’re wearing. Your choice.”

Rustling came from behind me, the sound of her rising and hurriedly slipping on the robe.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, her tone steadier than I’d expected.

I didn’t answer, simply grasping her arm with deliberate force. My shadows extended, forming dark restraints around her wrists, tight enough to leave bruises by morning.

“You’ll see.”

I pulled her from the room, moving swiftly through empty corridors and down stairways rarely used by anyone but servants.

Down and down we went, the air growing cooler, the stone walls more ancient.

The old dungeons lay beneath the foundation of the mansion, remnants of a darker time when my ancestors had been less subtle in their cruelties.

“The dungeons?” Ada said, the first hint of genuine fear coloring her words. “What do you intend? To torture me for attempting escape?”

I pushed open an iron door, revealing a chamber lit only by a single brazier. No implements of torture lined the walls—I wasn’t quite that medieval—but the room retained an atmosphere of dread, of suffering endured and witnessed.

“Sit.” I released her arm and pointed to a stone bench against the wall.

She didn’t move. “I’ll stand.”

I stepped closer until she had to tilt her head to maintain eye contact. Her scent was driving me crazy as I focused my gaze to her lips. She was beautiful when she was furious.

"You tried to run from me. You broke our agreement. You allowed that mangy guardian of yours to attack me." Each accusation fell between us with heavy finality. "Did you think there would be no consequences?"

“I think,” she replied with remarkable calm, “that you’ll do whatever you want regardless of my actions. You always have.”

I circled her slowly, allowing my shadows to brush against her skin—a reminder of my power, of my ability to touch her whether she wished it or not.

The darkness shifted instinctively, responding to my emotional state rather than conscious command.

Yet even as I moved with fluid menace, something deep within me recoiled.

The shadows that had poisoned my soul for five years whispered that this was necessary, that breaking her would bring me peace—but the recovered fragments of my true self screamed in protest at what I was about to do.

"Tell me what you're hiding," I said, my tone deadly soft.

The words felt foreign on my tongue, as if the darkness within me was speaking through me.

Years of cultivated cruelty pushed me forward, insisting that Ada's secrets were threats to be eliminated, but my recovered memories whispered that this woman had once been my salvation, not my enemy.

She blinked, genuine confusion crossing her features. “What?”

“The secret you’re protecting,” I continued, shadows darkening around us. “The reason you’re so desperate to escape me. What you’re guarding so fiercely that you’d endure anything to keep it safe.”

“You think I’m hiding something.” Understanding dawned in her eyes, followed by something that looked almost like bitter amusement.

“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” The admission escaped before I could stop it, raw and desperate. “But I can feel it through our bond. Something precious. Something worth more to you than your own life. And I need to know what it is.”

“Is that what this is about?” She studied my face. “Your need to control every aspect of my life?”

“Answer the question,” I demanded, and stepped closer. “Tell me what secret is worth such suffering, and perhaps I’ll be merciful.”

Her jaw tightened. “There’s nothing.”

“Lies.” I moved behind her, my mouth close to her ear. “I can feel it through our bond—something you’re protecting, something you fear I’ll discover. Something you love more than your own safety.”

She stiffened but said nothing, though goosebumps rose on her exposed neck.

“Very well,” I sighed, as if disappointed. “We’ll do this the hard way.”

I guided her firmly to the stone bench, ensuring she was seated before I raised my hand to hover just above her chest, where our binding mark pulsed beneath her robe. The shadows around my fingers elongated, sharpening into deadly points.

“This will hurt,” I warned her, pushing emotions away. “How much depends entirely on your cooperation.”

Fear flashed across her face before she mastered it. “Do what you will. I have nothing to tell you.”

“We’ll see.”

I pressed my palm against the binding mark, sending my consciousness through our connection—not gently, not with care, but with brutal intent.

The binding between us had three layers of protection, but my desperation and her weakened state from the assassination attempt had left her natural barriers compromised.

Even so, her light instinctively fought back, and I felt the bond's protective magic stirring, preparing to punish me for this violation.

I could sense her emotions when she was unguarded, and tonight I might be able to delve deeper into her memories.

She gasped, her knees buckling when pain seared through our bond.

I caught her, keeping her positioned on the bench as my shadows held her immobile.

The binding's protective magic activated fully now, sending white-hot agony through my chest with each probe into her mind—punishment for using our connection to cause her suffering.

The deeper I pushed, the more the ancient magic retaliated, but my desperate need for answers drove me past the pain.

"Stop," she gritted out, her body arching against my hold. "Hakan, stop?—"