Page 93 of Crown of Ashes and Desire

"Not sentient," he clarified. "But magical bindings have…inclinations. Purposes they work toward. This one draws power from both light and shadow—it seeks balance between opposite forces. Ours seems to be pushing for unity, not division."

I tried to step away again, wincing at the resulting feedback of magical energy. A visible arc of twilight power snapped between us in electric bursts. "So what, we're stuck together?"

A muscle worked in his jaw as he considered the implications. “It seems that way. At least temporarily.”

Understanding dawned, bringing with it a surge of triumph. “Which means I have to come with you to face Midas’s forces.” I couldn’t keep the satisfaction from my voice. “Unless you want to stay here, too.”

Hakan’s expression darkened. “This doesn’t change anything. The mission is too dangerous.”

“The mission is happening,” I countered, “and apparently, I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.”

Sarp moved from his corner, crossing to examine the magical connection between us. “Fascinating. The ancient texts mentioned this possibility—opposing magics creating a third force when bound.” He poked at the twilight energy with a tendril of his own shadow, and yanked back when it snapped at him. “This could actually be useful against Midas. His gold magic disrupts the shadow, but this…this is something he won’t expect.”

We glared at each other, magical energy still crackling between us, neither willing to concede. Outside, the storm subsided, as if it had spent its fury alongside our own.

“Well,” Sarp continued with a smirk, “that was the most violently erotic argument I’ve ever witnessed. Should I leave you two alone to finish…whatever this is?” He gestured between us. “Because I’m sensing some unresolved tension that might be better addressed before we face potential death.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Hakan’s shadows lashed out, knocking over a chair near Sarp, who didn’t even flinch.

“We leave in twenty minutes,” Hakan growled, finally breaking eye contact with me. “Gear up. Stay close during the operation. One wrong move and I’ll drag you back here myself, binding be damned.”

He stalked toward the door, then paused. "We're going to the archives. Now. And Ada? If you get yourself killed during this fool's mission, I'll find a way to bring you back just so I can kill you myself."

With that parting threat, he swept from the room, leaving a trail of frost in his wake.

Sarp rose, and stretched lazily. “Just like old times, eh?”

“Shut up, Sarp,” I muttered, still processing what had just happened.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, his usual levity momentarily absent, “that binding might save our lives tonight. Midas isn’t expecting light magic, and whatever this twilight power is…” He shrugged. “It might be our edge.”

I glared at him but found it hard to maintain my anger in the face of his unexpected insight. “We’re not together as lovers.”

“Of course not,” he agreed, his tone making it clear he believed exactly the opposite. “Just two people magically bound together, fighting with the intensity of a thousand suns. Totally platonic.”

Left alone in the great hall, I touched my throat where Hakan’s hand had been—not hurting me, but claiming me, challenging me. The memory sent an unwelcome heat through my veins.

I hated him. I had to hate him, after what he’d done. After how he’d left me.

And yet a part of me had come alive during our confrontation, a part I’d thought long dead. The raw honesty of our clash had felt more real than anything I’d experienced in five years.

That was the true danger of Hakan—not his shadows, not his temper, but his ability to make me feel when I’d worked so hard to feel nothing at all.

I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the mission ahead. Midas’s forces. The border of the light realm. Fighting alongside the man who had broken my heart, bound to him by magic neither of us fully understood.

One battle at a time. I could hate Hakan tomorrow. Tonight, we had a war to fight.

Hakan

Blood and smoke. The stench hit me first—copper and salt thick enough to coat my tongue, mingling with the electric tang of spent magic that sent my teeth aching. My shadow warriors moved silently as we approached the forest edge, their forms barely distinguishable from the darkness.

Something was wrong. The border conflicts had been escalating for months, but this…this felt orchestrated. A stage set for a performance I hadn't agreed to join.

"We shouldn't be here," I muttered, sweat trickling down my spine despite the cool air.

Ada stood beside me, her shoulders set in that stubborn line I knew too well. The light beneath her skin was dimmed but still visible, pulsing softly in rhythmic waves.

“Your intelligence said Midas’s forces were using this route,” she whispered, her fingertips brushing against mine, sending sparks through our connection.

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