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"I remember you betraying me," I hissed, even when I tilted my head to give him better access to my throat. "I remember you choosing power over our love."

"Two years," he murmured, lips trailing fire down my neck. "For two years I've been remembering fragments of us, breaking through my father's spell. Two years I spent not even knowing you existed, and now—" He crushed himself harder into me, his erection rigid between my core.

I was so wet for him, so ready for him to tear my clothes off and just take me here and now.

“Now I can’t escape you.”

A throat cleared loudly, breaking the moment. We turned as one to find Sarp leaning against what remained of the doorframe, carefully averting his eyes.

Part of me was relieved by the interruption—my plan was working too well, threatening to consume me along with him.

"Well, this is awkward," Sarp's voice cut through the haze of rage and desire. "Though I have to say, as far as battlefield strategies go, 'vigorous wall sex with the enemy' is certainly… innovative."

We froze, still pressed against each other, my hands tangled in Hakan's hair, his grip tight on my hips. Arms crossed, an amused smirk played on his lips.

We turned to find Sarp leaning against what remained of the doorframe.

“Normally I’d apologize for interrupting,” he drawled, “but considering you’re doing this in a destroyed study with the door ripped off its hinges, I think you forfeited the right to privacy.

” He tilted his head. “The light and shadow effects are a nice touch. Maybe dim the lightning outside, though—the constant flashing is a bit much.”

Hakan released me, shadows curling around his fingers. He was focused on Sarp. “Get. Out.”

“Can’t,” Sarp replied cheerfully, strolling farther into the room.

“We have a situation that requires attention. Something about magically induced storms threatening to tear holes in the shadow realm’s boundaries?

” He gestured toward the windows. “Though clearly you have your hands full with your own…storm.”

I pushed away from the wall, straightening my clothing, heat rushing to my cheeks not from embarrassment but from the realization of how completely I’d lost control.

Sarp made his way over to me, deliberately turning his back on Hakan. “You okay, Ada?” he asked, his voice dropping the sarcasm, eyes scanning my face with genuine concern.

Before I could answer, Hakan moved with inhuman speed. One moment he was several feet away, the next he had Sarp pinned to the wall, forearm crushing into his throat, shadows resembling daggers hovering inches from his face. A low, animalistic growl rumbled from his chest.

Sarp, to his credit, didn’t flinch. Instead, he rolled his eyes. “Are we doing this again?” he asked calmly. “The whole jealous rage routine? It’s getting predictable.”

“Hakan, stop!” I moved toward them, my light gathering in response to the threat.

Hakan’s eyes flashed dangerously, pupils constricting to slits when his shadows darkened to that midnight hue that preceded his most violent outbursts. His grip tightened on Sarp’s throat, frost spreading from his fingertips onto Sarp’s skin.

“Oh for—” Sarp gave an exaggerated sigh despite his precarious position. “Do you remember we used to be fucking friends?” He met Hakan’s gaze directly. “You know what your problem is? You’re so afraid of losing her that you’re forcing her away. Again.”

Hakan's shadows surged forward without warning, stopping just short of Sarp's face. The darkness hovered there, a breath away from his skin, cold and threatening.

“The storm,” Sarp said, remarkably unfazed by Hakan’s shadows. “It’s tied to Ada’s emotional state. If it continues, it could create rifts large enough for…unwelcome visitors.”

Hakan released Sarp with a contemptuous shove, turning away as if disgusted with his reaction. I caught a glimpse of his expression—self-loathing beneath the rage, as if his jealousy was a weakness he despised.

“Control yourself,” he snapped at me, not meeting my eyes.

“I’ll control myself when you stop treating me as if I am your prisoner,” I countered.

“Perhaps,” Sarp suggested, placing himself between us with either tremendous courage or spectacular foolishness, “we could continue this somewhere less…catastrophic? Preferably with more distance between the two magical nuclear warheads currently destabilizing our home?”

When Hakan glared at him, Sarp raised his hands defensively. “Just a thought.”

Hakan’s jaw tightened visibly. “Take her back to her chambers,” he ordered, shadows still writhing erratically around him. “Find the redhead.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, confusion warring with desire. “You say you’re remembering, but then you lock me away?—”

"For your protection," he growled. "There are forces at work here beyond what you understand. My father wants the ritual completed by the next blood moon—" He broke off, shadows flickering as a guttering candle. "Just go. Before I do something we'll both regret."

"Ah, the old 'I'm terrorizing you for your own protection' defense. Classic," Sarp muttered, just loud enough to be heard. "But you see, women generally don't appreciate being hunted down like?—"

The temperature plummeted. "Now."

With a theatrical sigh, Sarp offered me his arm. "Come on, Princess Destroyer of Studies. Back to your tower before His Majesty blows a blood vessel." As we walked past Hakan, he added in a stage whisper, "Between you and me, I think he's just sexually frustrated. It's been five years, you know?"

Hakan's shadows whipped out, cracking as a whip against the doorframe, inches from Sarp's head. Sarp merely smirked, tugging me along faster.

“You shouldn’t antagonize him like that,” I said quietly once we were in the corridor. “He might actually kill you one day.”

“Nah,” Sarp replied with inexplicable confidence. “He needs me too much. Besides, someone has to remind him he’s being a complete asshole.” He glanced at me sideways. “So…you and the big bad wolf, huh? That was…intense.”

My cheeks warmed again. “Forget you saw anything. I still hate him.”

Outside, the storm had begun to quieten, the lightning less frequent, the thunder more distant. My emotions were settling, the rage giving way to confusion and unwelcome desire.

The magical storm I'd unleashed would have been felt throughout the shadow realm—a signature of power that would draw attention from those who monitored such disturbances. I'd announced my emotional state to anyone capable of reading magical resonances.

“By the way,” Sarp added, his voice lightening. “Your friend with the magnificent red hair? Please tell me she’ll be making a return appearance. I’ve never seen anyone quite like her.”

I couldn’t help but smile. If only he knew just how true that statement was.