Page 20 of Crown of Storm and Silence
This beautiful, terrible creature is going to murder the man who's shown me nothing but kindness, who's offered to care for me and my child without asking questions. He's going to kill Sinan for the crime of existing in the space this stranger believes belongs to him.
The shadows tighten their grip, and Sinan's struggles grow weaker.
"Stop." The word tears from my throat, and both men freeze. I step forward, moving between them despite every instinct screaming at me to run. "Stop it. Please."
He looks at me, and I see something that takes my breath away—love. Desperate, consuming, utterly devoted love mixed with such profound pain that it makes my heart clench in sympathy. This isn't just possessiveness or territorial fury. This is a man watching his entire world slip through his fingers.
"If you are truly my husband," I say, my voice steady despite the terror coursing through my veins, "then I will never forgive you if you kill him."
The effect is immediate and devastating. The stranger goes completely still, shadows freezing mid-writhe as if my words have reached some deep, untouchable place inside him. The cold fire consuming Sinan flickers and dims.
"You don't remember me," he says, his voice cracking with barely contained anguish. "You don't know who I am or what we were to each other. Why should your forgiveness matter to me?"
"Because," I whisper, tears streaming down my face for reasons I can't explain, "even if I don't remember, something inside me recognizes you. Something knows that losing my forgiveness would destroy you in ways I couldn't survive."
The truth of it hits me as I speak the words. This man, this beautiful nightmare, holds pieces of my soul I can't remember giving him. The thought of seeing disappointment in those dark eyes, of watching love die and be replaced by hatred, fills me with such terror that I can barely breathe.
For a long moment, we stare at each other across the space between us. I can see the war raging behind his eyes—the desperate need for vengeance warring against something deeper, more fundamental.
But slowly, infinitely slowly, the darkness begins to recede.
Sinan crashes to the ground, gasping and clutching his throat, but alive. Whole. The stranger's shadows pull back reluctantly, coiling around their master like disappointed children denied their favorite toy.
"You would protect him," the stranger says, his voice hollow with disbelief. "You don't remember me, don't know what we meant to each other, but you would protect the man who wants to take my place in your bed."
"I would protect anyone from being murdered in front of me," I say firmly, though my voice shakes with exhaustion and terror. "Even if you are my husband, even if this child is yours—I won't let you kill innocent people."
He flinches as if I've struck him. "Innocent," he repeats softly. "Yes, I suppose he is that. Unlike me."
"What's your name?" I ask quietly.
Surprise flickers across his face. "Kaan," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "My name is Kaan."
Kaan.The name resonates through me like a bell, awakening something that's been sleeping in the depths of my broken memory. I don't remember him—not truly—but I remember the shape of that name on my lips, the way it felt to whisper it in darkness.
"Kaan," I repeat, testing the sound. He shivers as if my voice speaking his name causes him physical pleasure and pain in equal measure.
Instead of retreating, he steps closer, and I instinctively move backward, my hand flying protectively to my belly. The gesture is automatic, primal—a mother shielding her young from a predator she doesn't understand but recognizes as dangerous.
He freezes at my movement. I can see the war raging behind those dark eyes—desperate love warring with possessivefury, the need to claim what he believes is his fighting against whatever shred of honor still exists within him.
"Leave," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. "Please. Just leave."
He laughs, but there's no humor in it—only bitter acknowledgment of an impossible situation. "Leave?" His gaze flicks to Sinan, who's still catching his breath but watching us both with wary attention. "I'm not leaving you with him."
The possessiveness in his voice makes something deep inside me shiver with recognition, but I force myself to stand firm. Whatever we were to each other, whatever claim he thinks he has on me, I won't be trapped between two men who want to make decisions about my life.
"Then you can both leave," I say, meeting his burning gaze directly. "Both of you. I don't need either of you to make choices for me."
Kaan's gaze shifts back to Sinan, and his smile turns predatory, all sharp edges and barely contained violence. "A word of advice," he says conversationally. "Stay away from my wife. What happened here tonight? That was me being merciful." His dark eyes narrowed, shadows writhing around his feet like eager pets. "Next time, I won't be nearly so generous with your continued breathing."
Sinan's still pale from his ordeal, but a small amount of color bursts in his cheeks at the threat—anger or pride warring with the very real knowledge of what Kaan is capable of.
"Leave," Kaan commands, the single word carrying absolute authority. "Now."
Sinan glances at me, uncertainty and concern warring in his storm-gray eyes, clearly reluctant to abandon me with this dangerous stranger. But I nod, not wanting to see my friend die tonight, not wanting to test the limits of whatever mercy Kaanmight still possess. With one last protective look, Sinan retreats into the darkness, his footsteps fading until we're alone.
Truly alone.
