Page 38

Without warning, shadows extended from his fingertips, wrapping around my wrists and ankles, binding me spread-eagle against the tree’s massive trunk.

I was so aroused, dripping for him, and yet petrified of what might happen.

We both felt this anger vibrating between us, filling us with the need to be closer.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasped, and he grabbed both of my breasts, squeezing them tightly, then his tongue licked my chest while I struggled to move.

He licked my right nipple, teasing the other with his thumb.

I arched my head backward, moaning loudly.

This felt so good and so right, even if my mind repelled.

Damn it, I was throbbing, ready for anything, his energy stuck to me as if it was a second skin.

Years back he was always slow, greedy, but now I was seeing another side of him.

His mouth sucked on my nipple, then he pinched the other one, and my knees nearly buckled under me.

“Make me come, fuck me.” I felt my arousal dripping down between my thighs.

He lifted his head and grabbed my jaw, his eyes filled with madness, but then he smiled.

“Since you’re so eager.” He kneeled before me.

With deliberate slowness, he pushed my dress up to my waist, exposing me to the night air, and I shuddered, wanting to yank him closer.

Above us, dark clouds gathered with unnatural speed, swirling in perfect sync with his shadows and my light while they connected.

The air was tense with electricity, the hair at the back of my neck standing up.

I should have felt vulnerable, afraid. Instead, treacherous heat pooled low in my belly, desire coiling tight.

Our combined magic was destabilizing the local atmosphere—shadow and light in violent harmony creating pressure systems that shouldn't exist. Lightning cracked overhead, not natural weather but raw magical energy seeking release.

I remembered reading about this phenomenon in my father's private archives—when shadow and light magic merged during moments of extreme emotion, the resulting twilight energy could affect weather patterns within a mile radius.

The effect was temporary but dangerous; unchecked, it could create magical storms that lasted for days.

We needed to separate or learn to control the surge together.

“Hakan—”

“Quiet,” he commanded, hands sliding up my inner thighs, his thumb moving through the center of my damp panties.

I let out another desperate moan. He could make me go mad again, purely by inflicting the tortures, hesitating to take this further.

“You hide something from me, Ada. Something important.” His thumbs brushed dangerously close again to my clit. “Something you protect behind barriers even I can’t penetrate.”

Before I could respond, he lowered his head between my thighs and inhaled deeply.

He caused my light to vibrate so much that I nearly came there.

I moaned loudly, needing the release, praying for it.

The first touch of his tongue nearly undid me—cold and heat, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

I arched against the bonds, unable to hold back a cry of shocked pleasure.

It was too bad my hands were bound, because I would have forced him to feast on me or even worse.

I was drenched when he licked me slowly, groaning and using his shadow to enhance the pleasure.

“Your scent drives me fucking crazy, but your light flickers strangely,” he observed.

He pulled back just as I approached release, then I screamed, tears forced their way to my eyes. What the fuck was he doing to me? I didn’t think I could bear it much longer.

“Make me come, I’m so close…so close please,” I pleaded, desperate for him to continue and ignoring his statement about my light. He could probably see glimpses from the past.

“You make me so hard when you beg.” He eased two fingers inside me and groaned when he discovered I was soaked.

I was ready to let go of my bond, let him see the past if he didn’t let me climax.

“Tell me who else you’ve been with,” he said. “Who touched what was mine.”

“No one,” I shouted, the truth torn from me by need. I was throbbing, so desperate and needy. “There’s been no one else.”

His eyes darkened with something beyond desire, when he started to fuck me, using his other hand to mold my clit, pressing hard and then easing off. I panted for air, ready for orgasm. The thunder shattered above us, and I screamed for more.

“Five years, and no one touched you?”

He resumed his exquisite torture, bringing me to the edge again and again. Tears were dripping down my cheeks, he was breaking me again. I didn’t think I could stay lucid to see this through.

“Why?”

“Please, please Hakan…you know why,” I bit out, then cried in frustration when he pulled away once more.

“Tell me what damaged your light,” he demanded, his voice rough, his movement rough. “I sense fractures, places where it’s been broken and mended.”

Through our bond, I felt him probing—searching for the source of the damage.

I was ready to give up, ready for him to see everything, the broken Ada.

Unbidden, fragments of memory seeped through: flashes of white walls, of restraints, of my light flickering dangerously low while healers watched in concern.

I felt him flinch as the images reached him, his shadows rippling with what might have been shock. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, voice suddenly uncertain. “What happened to you?”

“Hakan, stop talking, stop with these questions. I need you inside me. Now!” I cried out. I was unwilling to reveal the full extent of my collapse. “Some time after I left you, my mind shattered to pieces.”

“How long?” He demanded, fingers still tormenting me with precise, maddening thrusts of his fingers.

My core was burning, my light pushing and mending.

“Does it matter?” I countered, desperate to shift his focus. “You got what you wanted—power, position, your father’s approval.”

Something flashed in his eyes—pain or anger, I couldn’t tell.

“I never wanted his approval,” he said fiercely. Then his expression changed, darkness undulated more violently. “Your light…it wasn’t just damaged. It nearly went out entirely.”

More fragments slipped through our connection—the sanctuary where I’d slowly healed, the kind eyes of healers, the gradual rekindling of my inner light after months of darkness. Not enough to reveal my full breakdown, but enough to show the depth of damage.

“That’s why you hide behind those walls in your mind.” He understood. “You’re protecting yourself from me. From this.” His hand pressed against my binding mark, where our connection pulsed strongest.

“Yes,” I admitted, and saw no point in denying it. “What you did to me, your betrayal—it nearly extinguished my light permanently.”

His eyes closed briefly, an unmistakable flash of pain crossing his features when he absorbed this truth. For just a moment, the shadows around him stilled completely, as if in shock. Then his expression hardened again.

“It was necessary,” he said, though the words sounded hollow. “For reasons you couldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” I challenged, and pulled against my bonds.

Instead of answering, he lowered his mouth to my pussy and tasted me, his mouth finding me with renewed purpose, his tongue thrusting in and out.

I moaned loudly, close again, while my arousal dripped down my thighs.

Hakan devoured, then eased his fingers inside me, sucking my clit until I was shattering to small pieces, my light spreading everywhere when I screamed his name.

He drove me toward release with relentless skill, his shadows caressing places his tongue couldn't reach.

When I shattered under his ministrations, light flared from my skin in golden pulses. He held me through it, his touch shifting from demanding to almost reverent while waves of pleasure crashed over me.

The shadow bonds dissolved, releasing my limbs. I slid down the trunk until I sat on the ground, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Hakan straightened, adjusting his clothing with unsteady hands. His breathing was heavy, the evidence of my arousal all over his face. I lowered my gaze to his pants. He was hard, and I moistened my lips, wondering why he didn't use me for his own benefit, but his expression was unreadable.

“I want you inside me,” I said, my voice still shaky.

He laughed, trying to dismiss how strong the bond was, but I felt his want, I felt his need. Hakan couldn’t mask the fact that he still wanted me.

“Seeing you explode and beg was enough, you’re so beautiful when you shatter for me, my light,” he said.

“There is another way, a way to complete the ritual without destroying your light completely.” His voice dropped lower, shadows swirling around us.

“The ancient texts speak of a balance—not consumption, but transformation. A joining of shadow and light that could fulfill the prophecy while preserving both energies.”

“Why would you even look for alternatives?” I pulled my dress down to cover myself. “Why not just follow your father’s plan?”

His eyes met mine, burning with fire, and I was desperate enough for more. I wanted him to take me, claim me.

“Do you really wish to die, Ada?”

“Of course not,” I replied. “But that doesn’t explain your reluctance. You’ve made it clear I am nothing to you beyond a means to power.”

“And you believed that?” He laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. “After what you just felt through our bond?”

I stood on shaky legs, confusion and lingering pleasure made my thoughts hazy. “What am I supposed to believe? You abandoned me, bound me against my will, threatened me with sacrifice. Yet now you speak of alternatives, of sparing my light.”

“Believe what you will.” He turned away. “But know this—I will find another way to complete the ritual. One that doesn’t require your destruction.”

“And if you can’t?” I asked. I needed to hear him say it.

He glanced back, shadows falling across his face. “Then we both lose everything.”

The admission hung between us, weighted with implications neither of us was ready to face.

“Go back to your chambers,” he said finally. “We’ll speak again when I’ve found more answers.”

“What happens if we do find another way?” I asked. I wasn’t ready to leave without understanding. “If the ritual doesn’t destroy me?”

“Then we’re both free,” he said simply. “You from me, me from my father.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Isn’t that what you want? Freedom?”

The question was more complex than it should have been. Freedom had been my goal since he’d dragged me from my wedding. Freedom to return to Kiraz, to live without fear.

“And you?” I asked instead of answering. “What do you want?”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment I saw a flash of the man I’d once loved—vulnerable, haunted, desperate for something he couldn’t name. His lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“What I’ve always wanted,” he replied. “Power. Vengeance.” His gaze held mine for a heartbeat longer. “Everything.”

With that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving me alone with more questions than answers—and the unsettling realization that “everything” might include me.