Page 6 of Crown of Ashes and Desire

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 thunderedin my chest when Ada said, "I do," and, for a fleeting moment, I thought Isaw 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—myfortress 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 backto 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.”

Ada

“Have you got any allergies, or are you sensitive to any magical essences?” the healer asked, his fingers glowing with diagnostic light when he hovered them over my body.

Consciousness returned to me in fragments—first the cold stone beneath me, then the lingering scent of blood on my wedding dress, and finally the horrible realization that this was no nightmare.

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