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“I do,” he admitted, his composure cracking slightly. “But what you’re proposing…taking her by force? That will create chaos. Let me speak to her first, warn her about Deniz. She might choose you willingly if she knew?—”

“No. Leave it to me. We can’t risk Deniz growing suspicious. Besides, she would never agree to marry me willingly,” I stated.

“She would if she knew about Deniz,” he countered.

"Perhaps, but I need this to appear as a conquest, not a rescue," I said. Shadows coiled around my fingers. “This marriage is necessary for me to regain full control of Kara Cehennem. Ada is the key, and the method matters as much as the outcome.”

After long contemplation, Lord Ercel stood and approached me, and we sealed our pact with magic that crackled between light and shadow.

Ten minutes later, I walked away, knowing she would despise me for what was to come.

We would be bound, but only in magic. I would never claim her fully, and she would hate me for ruining her future.

“How did it go?” Sarp asked when we emerged into the twilight. His casual tone belied the tension in his shoulders.

He agreed. It was merely a formality, but had I not intervened, he would have allowed Deniz to claim Ada," I replied. I knew I needed to discuss Deniz's punishment with my father. Deniz's death would be swift, but I would ensure his soul endured eternal torment.

“She’s going to hate you for eternity if you go through with this,” Sarp warned, his usual lightness giving way to genuine concern.

"I'll accept that fate. She's the key to claiming my throne in Kara Cehennem, and we both know Erlik never intended to relinquish his power," I replied. I gripped his shoulders. "But after I bring her to him as my wife, he will have no choice."

Sarp just shook his head, a hint of his usual wry smile returning. “Just remember, I warned you when she inevitably tries to set you on fire with that light magic of hers.”

The decision to act came to me only hours before the ceremony.

I'd spent weeks gathering intelligence while my memories slowly returned—visiting her uncle, confirming Deniz's true nature—but I told myself I was merely preparing contingencies.

Then, the night before her wedding, the final emotional impact of remembering what I'd lost hit me with crushing force.

When the hour approached, the thought of another man claiming what was mine became unbearable.

All my careful planning dissolved into raw, possessive fury, driving me to act.

For a moment, while I prepared to crash Ada's wedding, an unexpected memory surfaced— her laughter when we lay tangled together on sun-dappled grass, her hair spilling across my chest in dark waves.

"Promise you'll never change," she'd whispered against my skin. "Promise you'll always be my Hakan, not Erlik's shadow."

I'd sealed that promise with a kiss, believing I could somehow be both—son of darkness and lover of light. What a fool I'd been.

The ceremony unfolded exactly as I had expected. It was chaotic, bloody, and horrifying. My heart thundered in my chest when Ada said, "I do," and, for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw something flash in those light-filled eyes—something that wasn't pure hatred.

The trembling priest completed the ceremony, and a heavy, tense silence settled over the temple.

The nobles of the Isik Sarayi remained frozen, terror etched across their perfect faces.

I moved closer to Ada, roughly cupped her cheeks—still stained with the blood of her former betrothed—and claimed her mouth with bruising force.

For a heartbeat, she resisted, her body stiffening in my grip with rigid defiance. But then—gods help me—I forced her lips apart, and she made no sound of pleasure, only a choked gasp of revulsion that tasted of tears and rage.

Violent need pulsed through me, memories flooding back in torrents—her skin touching mine by moonlight, her breathless cries when I took her beneath ancient trees, whispered confessions we had no right to make. Five years of emptiness evaporated instantly, and I was drowning in her again.

I kissed her like I wanted to punish her. Like I wanted to break her. My shadows responded to my frenzy, writhing around us, caressing her skin as my hands had once done.

I didn't stop until she went limp in my arms, her consciousness fleeing when our magic collided with violent force. I pulled away, catching her before she hit the marble floor, her white gown spreading around her in pale pools. Panic—an emotion I hadn't felt in years—clawed at my chest.

When I carried her unconscious form through the shadows, her face peaceful in a way it hadn't been when she gazed at me, I felt something crack in my carefully constructed armor.

This woman had once regarded me with love, not hatred.

A part of me mourned that loss, even while I told myself it was necessary.

This was not supposed to happen. I never intended to kiss her so passionately, never intended to feel anything except cold satisfaction at possessing her.

"I'm taking what's mine," I snarled at the stunned onlookers, lifting her into my arms and stepping away from the altar.

Her heartbeat fluttered wildly under my fingers, her pulse racing through skin that had grown alarmingly pale. Something was wrong—dangerously wrong. The light in her, always so vibrant, seemed to convulse against my darkness like poison.

I passed by her uncle—his eyes calculating even in shock—her terrified sister, Asu, and Farah, who appeared more intrigued than horrified. None of them moved while I stalked toward the door, the shadows bending around us, eager to embrace their new unwilling queen.

"Hakan, the shadow gate is ready," Sarp called with casual ease. He materialized from the darkness at the temple's edge.

I nodded and stepped toward the swirling vortex of obsidian mist he had conjured, Ada's limp form cradled near my chest. Her golden fox guardian appeared in a flash of light, hackles raised, but concerned for her mistress.

"Touch her with malice, and I'll rip your shadow-loving throat out," Melo snarled, her fur standing on end while she bared her teeth at me.

"Try it, and I'll turn you into a rug beneath my bed," I replied, my voice sharp and cutting. "You follow my rules or stay behind."

I stepped through the shadow gate; the world dissolved around us when we journeyed through the void.

I wrapped protective darkness around Ada during our passage, knowing the raw power of the between-spaces could damage one with such light in their soul.

I tried to rouse her while we moved, Ada occasionally stirring in my arms, whispering incoherently at my neck.

She shouldn't have fainted; there had to be another reason for her sudden loss of consciousness.

When we emerged into Karanlik Kale—the journey through shadow space, having felt both eternal and instantaneous—my fortress was carved from darkness itself.

I stayed at Ada’s side when the shadow servants took over carrying her.

Making their way to the healer’s chambers.

She was slowly awakening, her eyelids fluttering, but still groggy and disoriented.

"My lord, you must let us attend to her," my healer Seref said. They pushed me away as they maneuvered her inside the ancient stone room lined with remedies both magical and mundane.

“Fine, but I want to be with her when she wakes,” I demanded. I was unsure why I felt such urgency, or why I needed to be near her. I shouldn’t care about this so deeply. She was merely a pawn in my revenge against the Light Court, nothing more.

“I’ll summon you when she’s stable,” Seref replied, before disappearing behind doors carved with runes of healing and protection.

I ran a hand through my hair, shadows curling around my fingers in response to my agitation.

“What in the seven hells happened?” Sarp asked with worrying tension in his voice.

“She fainted when I kissed her,” I muttered. I glared at him, as if daring him to comment further. “We’re leaving. I have more important matters to attend to than a fainting bride. Tell them to lock her in the north tower when she wakes.”

“Come now,” Sarp said with a casual shrug, “you don’t want to leave her alone in a strange place.

I remember how she gets when she’s scared—all that light magic flying everywhere.

” He gestured vaguely. “She’s in shock from the binding ceremony.

And that fox of hers looks ready to tear this place apart stone by stone. ”

I glanced at Melo, who had stationed herself outside Ada’s door. Turquoise eyes narrowed with suspicion and hostility.

“I don’t care,” I growled, shadows swirling violently around me in response to the lie. “She’ll recover, and then she’ll go back to hating me. This was all for power. She means nothing to me, anyway. She’s simply a tool to bring Isik Sarayi to its knees.”