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“I said no.” Sarp folded his arms, entirely unconcerned by my display of power. “I’m not leaving you alone with him. You’re too emotional right now.”

“I am not fucking?—”

“You’re practically freezing the room solid,” he interrupted, and gestured to the ice crystals forming on our breath and the way moisture in the stone walls had begun to crystallize.

I did that subconsciously and he had to fucking point it out.

“And while I generally appreciate your flair for the dramatic, if you kill him too quickly, we learn nothing. So I’m staying.”

We locked eyes, a silent battle of wills that would have sent any other member of my court fleeing in terror.

Sarp just waited, one eyebrow slightly raised, as though dealing with a temperamental child rather than the heir to the Shadow Throne.

I didn’t want to kill him, I liked Sarp too much, but he was becoming increasingly annoying.

“Fine,” I growled finally, and turned back to the assassin. “But stay out of my way.”

“Always do,” Sarp replied cheerfully. He leaned against the wall. “Just think of me as your conscience. The one you ignore but can’t get rid of.”

The assassin’s resolve visibly weakened while he watched our exchange, perhaps realizing for the first time that he faced not just the legendary cruelty of the Shadow Prince but something more unpredictable.

I let the silence stretch, watching fear build in his eyes as he stared at the soul-trap. Then, just when his breathing became ragged with terror, I asked softly, “Last chance. Who sent you after my wife?”

He broke instantly. “Midas,” he admitted, the name barely audible. “Lord Midas sent us.”

Ice flooded my veins, though I’d suspected as much. “Why?”

“To…to draw you out. To test your reaction.” The words tumbled out now, desperate to appease. “He said you were compromised. That you cared too much for the light-bearer. He wanted proof to take to your father.”

My blood turned to arctic fire. If Midas convinced my father I was compromised, Erlik would either kill Ada outright or worse—use her in the ritual immediately, before I was ready to protect her through it.

“And what message were you to deliver?”

“Just words. To make it seem like it came from somewhere else. To hide his involvement.”

Fury built inside me, turning the air around us frigid. Midas had used Ada as bait and had been willing to sacrifice her to prove a point about my emotional state. Had sought to harm what was mine.

“Told you,” Sarp said quietly.

“Told me what?” I snapped, not taking my eyes off the assassin.

“That you care about her.” He stepped closer, and he lowered his voice. “That this isn’t just about possession or the ritual anymore. You give a damn what happens to Ada.”

“She’s necessary for my plans—the ritual.”

“Bullshit.” The casual profanity cut through my carefully constructed facade. “I’ve known you too long, Hakan. I was there five years ago when you broke her heart to ‘protect’ her. I warned you then it was a mistake. I’m warning you now—don’t make the same one twice.”

My vision blurred, rage overtaking rational thought. The temperature plummeted until the assassin’s breath formed ice crystals in the air. My shadows responded to my fury, diving deeper, finding every nerve, every sensitive point, every fear hidden in the darkest corners of his mind.

His screams faded into background noise while I systematically dismantled him from within. Not just his body—his mind, his soul, everything that made him who he was. I stripped away layers of identity until nothing remained but agony and terror in their purest forms.

The effort left a hollow ache behind my sternum—shadow magic always demanded payment, even from me. But seeing Ada’s blood on my clothes made any price worth paying.

When the assassin hung broken, I stepped back and sent my will through the shadow network. "Find Midas. Watch him. Learn everything. But don't harm him—that pleasure is mine."

Midas wasn’t powerful enough to face me directly—that’s why he used proxies and manipulation. But his position in court, his connections to my father, made him untouchable through confrontation. I would need to be clever about this.

“Clean this up,” I told the shadows. “Leave him alive—barely. When Midas finds what’s left, I want him to understand the message.”

“I’ll coordinate our spies on the ground,” Sarp said. He understood my intent. “The shadows can track him, but we’ll need eyes and ears for the details.”

He slipped out ahead of me, no doubt to set things in motion.

I left the chamber without looking back at what remained of the assassin. He would live—technically—but what I’d taken from him would never regenerate. A fitting warning for when Midas eventually discovered his fate.

The corridors of the palace showed only essential staff—guards at their posts, a few brave servants who pressed themselves against walls when I passed. Word of my mood had spread quickly. Good. I had no patience for cowering courtiers today.

An hour later, I found Sarp approaching from the opposite corridor, his expression grim as he fell into step beside me.

“The spies are mobilized,” he reported tersely.

“One shadow-wraith for tracking—we need stealth, not overwhelming force. Two human operatives were positioned near his estate for close surveillance.” He paused outside Ada’s healing chamber.

“Now—are you going in, or do you need me to drag you through that door?”

“How bad?” I asked, and ignored his prodding.

“The poor assassin? Well, you made his eyeballs explode, Hakan. I’d say that’s plenty bad.”

I glared at him. “You know what I’m asking.”

Sarp’s expression softened slightly. “Ada is stable. The shadow-poison has been neutralized. She’ll recover fully, given time.” He hesitated, then added more gently, “She’s been asking for you.”

“We have nothing to talk about.” The words were flat, not a question.

“She’s not stupid, Hakan. She knows this attack wasn’t random.” Sarp moved to stand directly in my path. “She deserves answers.”

“She deserves to be kept safe,” I countered, my decision already crystallizing. “Double the guards on her chambers, but more importantly—screen every servant, every healer, everyone who breathes near her. Someone with access helped him—this wasn’t a failure of numbers, it was a failure of trust.”

Sarp’s eyes narrowed. “You’re asking me to enforce this? To lock her up? After what she just survived?”

“I’m going to protect what’s mine.”

“She’s not a possession to be locked away,” Sarp said, his voice dropping to that dangerous quiet that meant I’d pushed too far. “You want to protect her? Then stop making the same mistakes that drove her away the first time.”

His words carved through my defenses. Sarp never wasted energy on emotional appeals—when he spoke like this, it was because he saw something I was blind to. The same instinct that had made him my most trusted advisor was now telling him I was about to destroy what mattered most.

“I know who she is,” I said quietly.

“Then stop treating her like a prize to be locked away.” Sarp’s tone was unusually firm. “Tell her the truth, Hakan. About the war you’re fighting, about the Crown of Ashes Ritual, about why she’s really here. Give her the chance to choose her side with full knowledge.”

I laughed bitterly. “And you think she’d choose me? After what I did to her five years ago? After I tore her world apart to protect her from precisely this fate?”

“I think,” Sarp said carefully, “that you’re more afraid of her rejecting you than you are of Midas or your father.”

The truth of his words hit with devastating accuracy. I turned away, unable to face the understanding in my friend’s eyes. Sarp could probably sense that I fucking still wanted her, despite my actions and words.

“Implement the security measures for Ada,” I ordered. “Screen everyone. I’ll speak with her when I’m ready.”

“And if she fights the restrictions? If she tries to leave?”

“Then stop her. She will listen to you.” I started walking away.

I had to distance myself from this fucking conversation.

I hated that the two of them were close, even after everything that had happened, that she could laugh with him but hate me.

“Gently, but firmly. Remind her that she’s my wife, and in this realm, that means something. ”

“It means prisoner,” Sarp called after me, and I refused to let me have the last word, as usual. “Just admit it. You’re locking her up because you can’t stand the thought of losing her again, but you’re too much of a coward to actually face her.”

I whirled around, shadows erupting around me in response to my fury. Sarp didn’t even flinch.

“She nearly died today,” I snarled. “Because of her connection to me. I won’t risk that happening again.”

“So your solution is to make her a prisoner? To treat her exactly like your father treated your mother?” Sarp shook his head in disgust. “You’re better than this, Hakan. You used to be better than this.”

I paused but didn’t turn. “It means she’s under my protection. It means she’s mine. And I protect what belongs to me, Sarp, whether it wants that protection or not.”

Behind the healing chamber door lay Ada, recovering from wounds meant to manipulate me through my feelings for her. Wounds that proved Midas right—I was compromised, dangerously so.

I could enter, face her questions, and ease the pain in my chest because whenever she was close, her light overshadowed the darkness inside me. Or I could walk away, maintain the distance that had kept her safe in the past several years, keep my weakness hidden from those who would exploit it.

In the end, it wasn’t really a choice at all.

I turned away from Ada’s door and headed toward my own chambers, where shadows and solitude awaited. Where I could rebuild the walls around my heart that had begun crumbling the moment she’d reentered my life.

She was safer without my presence. Safer hating me than loving me.

I would protect her from Midas, from my father, from the ritual that threatened to consume her light.

And I would protect her from myself most of all.