Page 7

Hakan

“ Y ou’re a terrible liar,” Sarp drawled, longing across the leather armchair. “At least to those who know you. Watching you try is honestly the highlight of my otherwise tedious immortal existence.”

I ignored him, focusing on the ancient text before me, masking the pain beneath my temple.

I first felt it around two years ago when my father’s spell started fading—the slow return of memories he’d ripped away.

But now I fucking felt it everywhere, drilling through my cells while the pain of remembering what I’d lost crashed into the agony of what I was about to do to reclaim it.

I drove Ada away five years ago. Nine months of agony later, when my grief threatened to undermine his plans, Erlik forcibly ripped her from my mind, leaving me hollow and broken.

For two and a half years, I forgot she existed.

Then the spell began fading, and with my returning memories came Erlik’s terrible realization—Ada was Gün Ata’s daughter, his oldest rival.

My weakness had handed him the perfect weapon for revenge.

“I’d almost feel sorry for her if she weren’t so magnificently defiant,” Sarp continued. He swirled amber liquid in a crystal glass. “The way she stared at you…If hatred could kill, you’d be nothing but ash.”

“Are you fucking finished?” I asked without looking up, my fingers involuntarily crushing the edge of the ancient parchment as her name sent another wave of pain through my skull.

“Not even remotely.” Sarp grinned. “I met her fox companion earlier. Delightful creature. Sharp tongue, sharper teeth. I believe her exact words were ‘I’m counting the ways to separate his head from his shoulders while he sleeps.’ I offered to help.”

“Why would you go anywhere near that pest?”

“Some of us possess social skills beyond brooding and murder.” He raised his glass in mock salute.

“Your point?” I demanded, shadows coiling tight around me when an unwanted image of Ada’s face flickered through my mind, and I gripped the table so hard my knuckles turned white.

“My point, you magnificent idiot, is that you’re fooling exactly no one.” His expression sobered. “You staged that affair five years ago.”

“I did what was necessary?—”

“You pushed her away because her light was corrupting your precious darkness.” Sarp’s voice cut through my deflection.

“You’ve been miserable as sin for five years.

By the time I learned what had happened with Ada, your father’s spell was already firmly in place, and you couldn’t even remember why her name should matter to you. ”

“Power has its price.”

“And now the spell’s faded and you can’t stay away from her.” He leaned forward. “Face it, Hakan—you’re back because you can’t be apart from her, not because of some grand plan.”

“She’ll fucking survive.” As will I. We have no other choice .

“That’s not what I meant. You may have grown stronger in darkness, but happiness? That’s been notably absent from your repertoire.”

Shadow magic flared around my fingertips while revulsion and longing warred inside me. “Nothing was staged back then. I never recognized my true nature.”

“Bullshit with a capital B. Your ‘true nature’ is currently sitting in the east wing, plotting your demise. The rest is just your father’s poison working through your system.”

“Love is a weakness; it complicates things. Love is never kind.” The words tasted like ash in my mouth, each syllable a lie.

“And that’s Erlik talking, not you.” Sarp stood. “When you decide to stop lying to yourself, I’ll be here.”

I brushed past him, unwilling to acknowledge the truth.

Yet even while I descended the obsidian staircase, my awareness stretched toward the eastern wing, where her light flickered like a wounded star.

Her anguish pulsed through our bond, each wave of grief and rage clawing at me from within .

When her pain hit me, I stumbled mid-step—something I hadn't done since becoming the Golge Bey—catching myself against the wall with a curse that turned the nearest shadows into writhing serpents.

Sickened by my weakness, I slammed my fist into the wall, shadows splintering stone. I fought to regain control. This pathetic emotion would be my downfall if I allowed it to fester. I hated her for making me feel this, hated myself more for being unable to stop.

The great hall of Kara Cehennem opened before me—a vast chamber carved from black obsidian, where the air tasted of sulfur and ancient malice, and shadow-fire cast no warmth, only an eerie, dancing light that made the assembled lords appear as living nightmares.

The hall fell silent when I entered. Seven shadow lords stood around the ancient table, their expressions ranging from hostility to calculated neutrality. Each represented a different faction within our realm—old rivalries and newer ambitions all converging in this room.

"Lord Kaya," I acknowledged the eldest, a silver-haired man whose shadows moved with unusual fluidity. "Still speaking for the Nightmare Forests, I see. I assume this meeting has a purpose beyond wasting my time?"

“Direct as always,” Kaya replied, his smile tight. “We wish to discuss your…acquisition. The daughter of Gün Ata offers unique opportunities.”

My expression hardened. “Ada is not an ‘acquisition.’ She is my fucking wife.”

“A powerful one.” Lord Yilmaz leaned forward with poorly disguised greed. “Her light magic could be harnessed, studied. We request access to her for examination.”

The suggestion sent rage coursing through me. “Denied.”

“You misunderstand,” Lady Narin said, her voice a silken poison. “We aren’t asking permission. The Council has rights?—”

“The Council has nothing,” I cut her off, shadow magic danced around me. “Ada is mine. Her power is mine. You will not approach her, speak to her, or even look in her direction without my express command.”

“Your father conquered the seven territories to unite Kara Cehennem,” Lord Kaya reminded me, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. “He forged the shadow lords into a council that would govern together. Yet you act as though your word alone is law.”

“My father’s conquest is precisely why I stand where I do,” I replied coldly. “As heir to the House of Shadows, I outrank all of you—but that authority is still being tested by some who question whether I’ve truly inherited Erlik’s full power. The council exists to advise, not to command.”

"The Void Cities grow restless under this arrangement," Lady Narin interjected, her voice a silken poison.

"As do the Twilight Shores. We've maintained the old agreements—Yilmaz keeps the Blood Mires stable, I ensure the Shadowlands remain secure against light territory incursions—but unity requires mutual respect. "

“You’ve bound yourself to light,” Kaya pressed. “Some might call that treasonous. Unless that light is being used to strengthen our realm.”

With deliberate slowness, I removed my signet ring and placed it on the table. The obsidian stone pulsed with shadow magic—pure, undiluted power.

“My intentions?” I said softly when darkness filled the room.

“Are not your concern.” I could feel every spike of Ada’s pain through the binding, her emotions a constant ache in my chest. The binding between us had created unexpected sensations—echoes of emotion I thought long buried.

I pushed them aside. There was no place for sentiment in the Shadow Court.

“She could amplify our collective power,” Yilmaz argued, though he had paled visibly. “A controlled extraction of her essence?—”

My hand shot out, shadows condensing around his throat. He clawed at the darkness as I slowly lifted him from his seat.

“Let me be perfectly clear,” I said, voice deadly calm while Ada’s torment resonated inside me. “Ada is not a resource to be harvested. She is not a subject for your experiments. She is my fucking wife.”

I released him, and he collapsed back into his chair, gasping.

“Your father would not approve of this…attachment,” Lady Narin ventured. “Protecting a light-bearer goes against everything he stands for.”

“My father.” I let shadow flames dance across my fingertips, “has already approved this course of action. The binding serves his greater purpose—one that supersedes your concerns.” I paused, letting the implication sink in. “Unless you wish to question Erlik’s judgment directly?”

“Which is?” Kaya challenged.

“The Crown of Ashes,” I revealed, and watched their expressions shift from confusion to dark understanding.

“That ritual hasn’t been attempted in?—”

“Centuries,” Kaya breathed. “Since your father’s rivalry with Gün Ata’s began.”

I let the implication sink in. The ritual wouldn't just transfer Ada's power to me—it would fundamentally destabilize the balance between realms. Shadow territories would expand, consuming neutral lands.

Light magic would weaken across all domains, potentially ending the equilibrium that had prevented total war for millennia.

"Ada's divine light, once bound to me through marriage, can be harvested to tip the balance permanently in the shadow's favor. "

“The ancient texts speak of power transference,” Lady Narin said carefully. “The light-bearer’s essence channeled…”

“Her divine essence harnessed to strengthen our realm, her power flowing through me to claim both light and shadow territories.” I repeated what my father had told me, though the specifics had always remained frustratingly vague.

A collective murmur rippled through the council. They understood now—this wasn't about protecting a light-bearer but about the ultimate power source.

"The winter solstice," I continued. "When the boundaries are thinnest. Her essence harvested, the balance tips permanently to shadow."

Lady Narin's eyes gleamed with dark hunger. "And our territories expand."

"Exactly."