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Hakan

T hree days had passed since Ada’s explosive confrontation in my study, three days since she had destroyed my sanctuary and nearly brought down the castle’s wards with her unleashed power.

The memory of her pinned to the wall, her light intertwining with my shadows, haunted me through sleepless nights.

I had been avoiding her chambers, knowing that seeing her again would shatter what little control I had left.

But solitude offered no respite—not when my father's presence loomed over the boundaries of my realm like flood waters testing a dam.

I had felt his presence before the messenger had arrived.

The temperature had plummeted, shadows deepening in corners where light normally reached.

Even my shadows stirred restlessly, responding to a power far greater than my own.

Unlike the pure darkness many expected from the Demon of Ashes and Shadows, Erlik's presence carried the weight of ancient knowledge, of centuries watching realms rise and fall.

"Fuck," I muttered, and run a hand through my dark-blond hair. I hadn't slept properly in days, not since that encounter with Ada in my study. The memory of her defiance, of nearly losing control with her trapped beneath me, haunted me day and night.

The court messenger found me in the war room, his face ashen, breath fogging in the unnaturally cold air.

“My lord,” he stammered, and fell to his knees. “Your father sends word. He demands your immediate presence in the shadow realm.”

I kept my expression neutral despite the ice that formed in my veins. “When?”

“Now, my lord. He’s opened a direct gateway.” The messenger swallowed hard. “He says the Crown of Ashes Ritual has been delayed long enough.”

Almost instinctively, I reached out through the bond that connected me to Ada. He’s summoning me. My father grows impatient with our…arrangement.

A faint echo returned—wariness, and underneath it all, a flicker of something that might have been concern. At least she wasn’t blocking me completely anymore.

“Interesting timing,” Sarp remarked from the doorway, his usual casual demeanor replaced with tension. “Right after your little domestic explosion three days ago.”

“He has spies everywhere,” I replied. “Our…disagreement…wasn’t exactly subtle.”

“Neither was the magic storm that nearly tore holes in the realm’s boundaries,” Sarp pointed out. “Hard to miss that sort of thing when you’re the demon lord of all shadow realms.”

I shot him a warning look. “Remember your place when we’re there.”

The shadow gate materialized in the center of the room—a swirling vortex of absolute darkness that led directly to Kara Cehennem.

The air shimmered and sparked around its edges, tiny arcs of violet light dancing across my skin.

The acrid scent of sulfur and ash from my father's domain slithered in, coating my throat and making my eyes water.

“This is different,” I said, and studied the gateway’s violent edges. “He’s not just summoning me. He’s making a statement.”

“Then we’d better not keep him waiting,” Sarp replied, though his hand moved instinctively to his weapon.

The journey through the shadow realm felt longer than usual, the darkness more oppressive.

When we emerged in the great hall of Kara Cehennem, I immediately understood why.

The entire shadow court had assembled—not just my father’s inner circle, but representatives from all seven shadow houses, including several who had opposed my binding to Ada.

Notably absent was Kaan, my older half-brother who ruled the Seven Houses in my father’s name.

His empty seat at the high table spoke volumes—Kaan had made his opposition to Erlik’s methods clear in recent years, and his absence from this gathering was likely deliberate.

The absence of my brother’s moderating presence meant the assembled lords were more volatile, more eager to curry favor with Erlik directly. Without Kaan’s diplomatic restraint, this gathering would be far more dangerous—both for me and any perceived weakness I might show.

At the center of it all, seated upon the Obsidian Throne, was Erlik himself.

My father looked exactly as I remembered—ageless, commanding in the way that predators were mesmerizing, with features that might have been carved from shadow itself.

His eyes held the depthless black of the void between stars, and when he smiled, it was with the satisfaction of a spider welcoming prey to its web.

“My son,” he said, his voice carrying easily through the vast chamber. “How good of you to join us. We have much to discuss.”

I approached and bowed—not deeply, but enough to acknowledge his authority in his realm. “Father. You summoned me.”

“Indeed. It seems your…domestic situation requires clarification.” His smile never wavered, but something dangerous flickered in those black eyes. “Tell me, how does your binding with the light-bearer progress?”

The question carried weight I couldn’t quite interpret. Every shadow lord in the chamber was listening, waiting to see how I would respond. I felt the weight of their collective gaze,

“The binding grows stronger daily,” I replied carefully. “Ada’s light responds to my shadow magic as the ancient texts describe.”

“Does it?” Erlik rose from his throne with predatory grace. “Because my sources suggest you’ve been…distracted by your bride. That perhaps sentiment clouds your judgment.”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the assembled court. Some looked eager for my downfall, others calculating how my father’s displeasure might benefit them.

“I’m protective of what’s mine,” I said, and let shadows coil around my fingers. “Surely you understand the value of that.”

“What’s mine?” Erlik repeated the words thoughtfully. “An interesting choice of phrasing. Tell me, my son, what is the purpose of your binding to the light-bearer?”

I frowned slightly. The question seemed…odd. Surely he knew. “To strengthen the shadow realm through her power. To create a conduit between light and dark that will?—”

“No.” Erlik's voice carved through my words, sharp and unforgiving. “Try again.”

Confusion flickered through me. “The Crown of Ashes Ritual,” I said slowly. “To harness her divine light for the shadow realm’s benefit.”

“Better. And what does this ritual require, exactly?”

The question pressed down on us, suffocating. Around us, the shadow court had fallen silent, their attention focused with predatory intensity on our exchange.

“The…the complete binding of her light to my shadows,” I said, though uncertainty crept into my voice. “The joining of our essences to create unprecedented power.”

Erlik’s laugh was soft, almost fond. “Oh, my dear boy. You still don’t understand, do you? The memory spell was more thorough than I thought.”

Ice formed in my veins. “What do you mean?”

“The Crown of Ashes Ritual doesn’t bind her light, Hakan.” Erlik descended the steps to his throne, and moved to circle me slowly. “It consumes it. Completely. Irreversibly.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath my feet. “Consumes?”

“Every drop of divine light in her bein, drained into the shadow realm. Her essence, her power, her very life force—all of it transferred to strengthen our domain.” His smile was cruel, satisfied. “Her death, my son. The ritual demands her death.”

The revelation shattered something fundamental inside me, as if my very soul had been cleaved in two. My knees nearly buckled, and I had to fight to remain standing. Around us, the shadow court watched with hungry eyes, feeding on my shock like vultures.

“No,” I whispered, then louder: “No. That’s not…the texts never mentioned…”

“The texts you were allowed to read,” Erlik corrected smoothly. “I made sure certain details were…omitted from your research. The memory spell helped with that, of course. Made you more pliable, more willing to accept incomplete information.”

My mind reeled, pieces of a horrible puzzle clicking into place. The gaps in my memory, the way certain passages in the ancient texts had seemed to skip over crucial details, the growing unease I’d felt whenever I tried to visualize the ritual’s completion.

“You forced the spell on me,” I breathed, the truth freezing the blood in my veins. “You ripped my memories away when my regret became too much, when I questioned your commands.”

“I did what was necessary,” Erlik corrected coldly. “Nine months after you drove her away, your sentiment was becoming a liability. You were weakening, questioning everything I’d taught you. So I took those troublesome memories and discovered something…enlightening in the process.”

“Imagine my delight when, while sifting through your pathetic emotions, I discovered exactly who your precious light-bearer truly was. Gün Ata’s daughter. My ancient rival’s blood.”

The revelation crashed over me with devastating force. He hadn’t just stolen my memories—he’d discovered Ada’s true parentage during the process, turning my pain into his opportunity for revenge.

“The binding was no longer just about your weakness,” Erlik continued, and savored horror. “It became the perfect instrument of vengeance. My son would claim the daughter of my greatest enemy, and through her death, I would finally have my victory over the God of Light and Love.”

“You manipulative bastard,” I snarled, my power exploding outward.

Several shadow lords stumbled backward as my magic lashed through the chamber.

“You stole my memories, discovered her identity, and orchestrated everything—all for your petty revenge.”

The temperature in the chamber plummeted, but I pressed on, my shadows rising to meet his overwhelming presence.

“Did you enjoy it?” I demanded, and took a step toward the throne despite the crushing weight of his displeasure. “Watching me bind myself to her while knowing you’d made me into the perfect weapon for your vendetta? Knowing I’d have to destroy the daughter of the entity you hated?”