Page 97 of Crown of Ashes and Desire

For a brief, transcendent moment, we were one being—neither light nor shadow, but something new, something whole. The barriers between us dissolved into a morning mist.

The connection ebbed while my consciousness began to fade. The world grew dim around the edges, sounds becoming muffled as if filtered through water.

The last thing I saw was Ada’s face, determined despite her tears, her light still pouring into me.

The last thing I felt was her lips pressed into mine, a kiss that tasted of blood and salt and desperate hope.

The last thing I heard was her voice, breaking but fierce: “Come back to me, Hakan. Damn you, come back to me.”

From somewhere distant, I thought I heard Sarp’s voice shouting orders, reinforcements arriving too late. But I couldn’t be sure if it was real or merely hope as darkness claimed me completely.

Then nothing but shadow, deeper than any I had ever known.

Ada

"He's dying," I whispered, and cradled Hakan's broken body close to mine.

Blood soaked through my clothes, his and mine mingling until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began. The golden blades had torn through him so viciously that even hisshadows couldn't stem the bleeding. Adrenaline was coursing through my body; we were ambushed, and I had no idea where Sarp was.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Why throw himself before blades meant for me after everything between us? It would have been easier if he'd let me die—easier than this crushing debt I never wanted to owe him.

Melo, in her human form, knelt beside us in the smoldering battlefield. Her fiery hair whipped in the magical wind still swirling from the aftermath of Midas's destruction.

"Not yet he isn't," she said grimly, her hands already glowing with ancient fox magic. "But we can't stay here. Midas may be dead, but his forces will regroup. We need shelter, somewhere I can work."

"The shadow realm is too far," I said, panic rising when Hakan's breathing grew more labored. "He won't survive the journey."

Melo scanned the horizon. "There's a village—Isikköy. Two miles east, within light territory but close to the border. They've remained neutral during the conflicts. I didn't realize how close we were to Nadine. She has a healing house there."

I brought my palms to my mouth, exhaling sharply. The choice loomed before me—taking Hakan to Isikköy meant bringing him dangerously close to Kiraz. But the alternative was watching him bleed out in my arms.

"Kiraz is with her, and she will be eager to help," I said with newfound determination.

Melo didn't say anything. Her expression grew skeptical, but I wanted us to be close to Kiraz.

As we crafted a crude stretcher from broken spears and my cloak, Hakan's eyes flickered open briefly, unfocused and glazed with pain.

"Sarp," he rasped, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. "Find him."

"We will," I promised, though I had no idea if Sarp had survived Midas's ambush. "Rest now."

His eyes closed again, shadows curling weakly around his fingers before dissipating resembling smoke. My heart clenched with a fear I hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge—that I might lose him just when everything between us had begun to shift, to heal. I didn't think I was ready to forgive him, but he'd saved me during the battle.

The journey to Isikköy was brutal but mercifully short. Twice we had to stop when Hakan's heart faltered, pouring our combined magic into him just to keep death at bay. By the time the village's whitewashed stone houses appeared through the trees, I was exhausted.

Nadine's healing house stood at the village center, marked by the ancient symbol of Ak Ana—a crescent moon embracing a star, the emblem of healing and balance. My sister emerged before we reached the door, her flowing silver-streaked brown hair and keen healer's eyes so familiar my heart clenched with longing. I hadn't seen Nadine since before my wedding to Hakan—she was the only family member who had supported me when I fell in love with a shadow lord, and the one I had entrusted with Kiraz's care when everything fell apart.

She embraced me briefly but fiercely, her eyes instantly assessing Hakan's condition.

"You look terrible," she whispered, and squeezed my hand. "Both of you."

Then she hugged me again, and I nearly broke down but told myself to hold it together. We needed her healer's skill now, not family reunions.

"You are tired, so go and rest. Now bring him inside," she commanded, already rolling up her sleeves. "Quickly."

Nadine led us through the main cottage to a smaller chamber at the back—her private healing room. The space enveloped us in warmth and ancient magic—sage and yarrow for healing, lavender for cleansing, and beneath it all, the subtle tang of light magic infused into every surface. Shelves lined the walls, filled with bottles of herbs and tinctures, while a narrow bed occupied the center of the room.

We laid Hakan on the bed that seemed too small for his tall frame. In the warm lamplight, he looked worse—skin ashen beneath the blood, chest barely moving with each shallow breath.

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