Page 48 of Crown of Ashes and Desire

The lie was so transparent I would have laughed if I could. His shadows were already working to contain my blood loss, his body positioned to shield me from further harm.

I could feel myself slipping, darkness encroaching farther on my vision. If I lost consciousness now, I might never wake up. With tremendous effort, I forced words past blood-flecked lips.

“Masked. Five of them.” I coughed, pain flaring anew. “Took…Melo.”

For just an instant, his mask slipped, raw anguish bleeding through before he forced it away.

This was not the cruel man who had bound me against my will—this was glimpses of the Hakan I'd known before, bleeding through the monster he'd become. But that made it worse, not better. I could handle hating a complete villain. What I couldn't handle was this constant shifting between the man I'd loved and the shadow lord who'd destroyed me, never knowing which version would surface next.

“The fox lives,” he said, voice flat but hands gentle as they worked to slow my bleeding. “I can still feel her presence in the gardens. They’ve bound her, but she lives.”

Relief weakened me further, and I felt myself sliding toward darkness.

“No.” Hakan’s command cut through my fading consciousness, no longer distant but openly desperate. “You will not die here, Ada. Not like this. Not by their hand.”

His palm hovered over my wound, shadows gathering around his fingers. I wanted to pull away, to escape whatever dark magic he intended, but I felt paralyzed. Could only watch as his shadows descended toward the place where my blood pulsed out with each weakening heartbeat.

Instead of the cold I expected, heat bloomed where his power touched me. Burning, cleansing heat that chased back the numbness, the creeping corruption of the assassin’s blade.

“This will hurt,” Hakan said, his tone once again deliberately detached, though his hands shook slightly. “Try not to scream. It’s annoying.”

Hold on to me, he commanded in my mind, belying his cruel words.Focus on my energy. Let it guide you.

It did hurt. God, it hurts. Like he was burning me from the inside out, his shadows cauterizing the wound even as they fought the foreign shadow magic trying to claim me. I couldn’t hold back the scream this time, the sound tearing from my throat with animal intensity.

I’m sorry, he whispered through our bond, genuine anguish bleeding through.I’m sorry, Ada.

Hakan's free hand found mine without hesitation, and I clutched it with desperate need, squeezing with what little strength remained to me. His skin was ice-frozen against my fevered palm.

“Pathetic,” he muttered, the cruel word completely at odds with how his thumb gently stroked across my knuckles, how his body curved protectively over mine. “Stay awake. Don’t you fucking dare die on me or I’ll end you myself.”

The threat became a plea. Through our bond, I felt his fear—raw and unfiltered, terrifying in its intensity. The fear of losing me echoed between us, amplified by the magical connection, impossible to disguise or deny.

I won’t let you go, he promised silently, the words carrying more truth than anything he’d said aloud.

Beyond the alcove, echoes of combat reached us. Shouts, the clash of weapons, horrible wet noise of tearing flesh. Hakan's guards, engaging the remaining assassins. But Hakan himself didn't shift from my side, his focus entirely on the wound, on keeping the shadow poison at bay.

“Hakan,” I managed, my voice barely a whisper. “They knew…Who I was. They Called me…light-bearer.”

His expression darkened further, if such a thing were possible. The air around us grew so cold that ice crystals formed on my eyelashes, on the blood drying on my skin.

“Did they speak?” he demanded. “Did they say anything else?”

I tried to focus through the haze of pain and encroaching unconsciousness. "Some bridges must be burned before others can be built. You'll understand soon enough."

The temperature dropped impossibly further. Plants shattered around us, frozen so quickly they turned to brittle glass. Hakan’s eyes flared brighter, and for a moment, I saw something moving behind them, something ancient and terrible, watching through his gaze.

“I will find them,” he promised, and it was the promise of an apex predator, not a man. “Every last one. And they will beg for death long before I grant it.”

The echoes of fighting had ceased. Either the guards had prevailed, or…

From the corner of my eye, I spotted a flash of auburn hair—Martha, watching from behind a distant hedge, her expression unreadable before she melted back into the shadows.

Sarp knelt at the entrance to the alcove, his face a careful mask. “The remaining assassins are down. We’ve found tracks from two more who escaped through a shadow-gate. They were well-prepared. The timing, right after Midas’s visit… I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“And Melo?” I managed to ask, though the effort sent fresh pain through my chest.

Sarp's eyes softened slightly. "We found her. She's wounded but fighting the bindings. My men are striving to free her now."

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