Page 64

Ada

T he silence stretched between us, endless and suffocating. I knelt on the cold stone floor of Karanlik Kule, ears still ringing with my daughter's terrified cry. My daughter. Our daughter. The secret I had guarded with my life for five years, ripped away in a moment of chaos and betrayal.

Hakan stood before me, his breathing heavy and uneven.

The effects of the shadow-blocking amulet had faded after Midas disappeared through the portal, allowing Hakan's powers to gradually return.

Now his shadows were writhing around him like living things, growing stronger with each passing moment as his power gradually returned to full strength.

His face was a mask of shock and dawning fury, green eyes burning with questions I had no strength to answer.

"Ada." My name on his lips was both plea and accusation. "Fucking answer me."

My throat constricted painfully when I stared up at him, my mind racing through five years of careful secrecy— all of it destroyed in an instant.

How could I explain that I'd tried to tell him?

That I'd gone to the shadow council first, begging for an audience, only to be turned away by lords who told me he was too busy for such trivial matters?

That I'd then stood outside our home for hours in the pouring rain, waiting for him to return, but he never came?

The memory of his voice from before echoed in my head: "I don't want children.

Ever. The very thought repulses me." Words he'd spoken so casually, yet they had shaped every decision I'd made since.

I opened my mouth, but no words came, my fingernails digging crescents into my palms while I fought to maintain what little composure I had left.

"Answer me!" His voice cracked with something beyond anger—perhaps fear, perhaps dread of confirmation.

What could I possibly say to explain five years of secrets? How could I make him understand that everything—every choice, every lie, every moment of separation—had been to protect Kiraz from a world that would use her as a weapon?

The tower trembled suddenly with the impact of footsteps rushing up the stairs. A moment later, Sarp and Melo burst through the shattered doorway, weapons drawn, faces flushed from battle.

"We cleared the lower levels," Sarp announced breathlessly, taking in the scene—Ada kneeling on the floor, the shattered remnants of magical battle around them.

"Found evidence of a struggle in the main hall—scorch marks and residual portal magic.

No other enemies, but there are traces of fairy magic mixed with shadow residue.

Whatever happened here was planned." His eyes darted between us, sensing the charged atmosphere.

"What the hell happened here? Where's Kiraz? "

"Midas had help," I said, my voice hollow. "Martha opened a portal just as Midas grabbed Kiraz. I tried to reach them, but they disappeared through it before I could stop them."

"Drunken Martha?" Melo's eyes widened with recognition. "Martha swore neutrality in the realm of conflict. Why would she—" She stopped, her expression darkening. "Unless Midas was controlling her somehow."

"Martha wouldn't help him willingly," Melo continued grimly.

"She's always been fiercely protective of children.

If she opened that portal..." Her fox ears flattened against her head.

"Midas must have found a way to control her.

Fairy-bloods are vulnerable to certain shadow magics if they're caught off guard. "

"Is Kiraz my fucking daughter Ada?" Hakan's question cut through the room with sharp precision, silencing all other conversation.

When I didn't answer immediately, his control slipped further. The shadows around him darkened, temperatures plummeting when his power flared, wild and dangerous.

"IS SHE MY DAUGHTER?" he roared, the force of his demand shaking dust from the ancient ceiling.

Melo gasped, one hand flying to her mouth. Sarp went very still.

At that moment, time seemed to slow. I saw the desperation in Hakan's eyes, the tightly coiled tension in his body.

I thought of Kiraz—her stubborn chin, so like his, her fearlessness in the face of danger, her shadow magic that had reached instinctively for his.

All these years of hiding, of protection, of lies—and now she was gone, taken because I hadn't been strong enough to save her.

The weight of truth pressed against my chest.

I raised my eyes to Hakan's, tears spilling down my cheeks.

"Yes."

The single word shattered something inside him.

Hakan went utterly still, his face draining of all color as the truth settled into his bones.

His shadows writhed once, violently, then pulled tight against his body as if wounded.

For a moment that stretched like eternity, he simply stared at me—this woman who had carried his secret for five years, who had borne his child in solitude while he played at being a shadow lord.

Hakan turned abruptly and strode from the chamber without another word, his shoulders rigid with barely contained emotion.

I stumbled to my feet, light magic flaring instinctively to steady myself, and hurried after him.

He moved through the tower's corridors like a man possessed, climbing stone steps two at a time until he burst through the door onto the battlements.

I followed him onto the battlements of the ancient tower, where night wind whipped my hair and tore at my clothing. Above us, clouds had been gathering throughout our confrontation, drawn by the magical energies clashing between us. Now they hung low and dark, pregnant with the promise of a storm.

"Five years," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Five years you kept my own child from me."

Father. The word echoed in my mind, foreign and impossible.

I had a daughter—a small, fierce creature with my eyes and her mother's courage.

Images flashed through my memory: Kiraz standing up to the merchant, her magic dancing across her palm, the way she'd looked at me with curiosity rather than fear.

My child. How many nights had she fallen asleep wondering about her father?

How many times had Ada comforted her with lies about where I was?

The weight of missed years pressed against my chest like a physical force.

"You said children repulsed you," I shot back, my own pain finally finding a voice. "You told me a shadow lord with your bloodline had no business bringing children into darkness. What was I supposed to think when I discovered I was pregnant?"

His jaw worked silently. "You could have tried?—"

"I did try!" The words tore from my throat. "I went to the shadow council, begged for an audience. They laughed at me. Called me an ex-lover with complaints too trivial for your attention. Then I stood outside our home for hours in the pouring rain, waiting for you to return. You never came."

Something flickered across his face—memory, perhaps regret. But when he spoke, his voice held steel. "That doesn't change the fact that you stole my right to know my own blood."

"And what would you have done if you'd known?" I demanded, anger flaring hot through my grief. "Would you have embraced her with open arms? The man who told me to my face that children disgusted him? The man who chose power over love, darkness over light?"

His face hardened, but he offered no answer, no defense against my accusations. The silence only fueled my rage.

"We need to find her," Melo said urgently, stepping onto the battlements with Sarp behind her. "Your daughter is still missing. This argument won't bring her back faster."

But Hakan barely seemed to hear her. He turned slowly to face Sarp, his shadows darkening the air around them.

"You knew I had a daughter. And you didn't tell me.

" Hakan's voice was deceptively quiet, but I could see the storm building in his eyes.

The shadows around him writhed with increasing agitation, responding to emotions he could no longer contain.

"My closest friend. My brother in all but blood. "

Sarp held his ground despite the oppressive cold. "I only discovered it recently. I was going to tell you?—"

"When?" Hakan demanded. "After the wedding? After another year of lies?"

"I made a promise," Sarp said quietly. "To a mother protecting her child. Would you have had me break that oath?"

Something in Hakan's expression shifted, a flash of understanding quickly submerged beneath renewed rage. "And who protected me? Who stood for my rights as her father?"

The attack came with such speed that Sarp barely had time to defend himself.

Hakan's shadows struck like vipers, slamming Sarp against the stone wall with bone-jarring force.

Before he could recover, Hakan was on him, one hand around his throat, the other drawing back with shadows coalescing into deadly sharpness.

"Best for whom?" Hakan snarled, pressing Sarp harder against the wall. "While you played at being an advisor to my child, I didn't even know she existed!"

"Hakan, stop!" I lunged forward, grabbing his shadow-encased arm as it drew back to strike Sarp again, my light magic flaring instinctively in defense.

In his blind rage, Hakan reacted without thinking.

His elbow swung back violently as he tried to shake off my grip, striking me across the face with enough force to send me sprawling across the stone.

The sound of my body hitting the ground seemed to cut through his fury.

His head whipped around, and the moment he saw me on the ground, realization dawned in his eyes.

His face transformed, horror replacing rage as he stared at his own hand as if it belonged to someone else.

The shadows around him recoiled, curling inward like wounded animals.

He released Sarp immediately and turned toward me, horror replacing fury on his face.