Page 103 of Crown of Storm and Silence
The way she says "athletic" makes several demons lean forward with interest.
"What's theKaranlik Ayini?" Nesilhan asks, her curiosity spiking through our connection.
"Oh, you're in for a treat," Banu purrs, clearly enjoying herself. "Think of it as... cultural foreplay. With more shadows and dramatically more testosterone."
I give her a look that could melt steel. "Banu."
"What? I'm being educational!" She turns to Nesilhan with mock innocence. "It's a dance that shows strength, heritage,all those deliciously primitive masculine qualities that make women forget their own names. Very traditional. Very?—"
"Very likely to get you murdered if you don't stop talking," I interrupt.
"Promises, promises." She waves a dismissive hand. "Besides, someone needs to explain why half the demon ladies just started fanning themselves."
I look around and notice she's right—several succubi are eyeing me with renewed interest, clearly anticipating some form of exotic entertainment.
"Musicians," I call out with quiet authority, ignoring Banu's theatrical commentary.
From the shadows emerge demon servants carrying traditional instruments—a haunting reed pipe that resembles a zurna, drums that pulse with their own dark heartbeat, and something that looks like a cross between a lute and a weapon of torture.
"Oh, this is even better than I hoped," Banu stage-whispers to Nesilhan. "Live music and everything. I do love a man who comes with his own soundtrack."
The musicians begin, and the ancient melody fills the chamber—haunting, powerful, speaking of mountains carved from midnight and warriors who claimed dominion over darkness itself. The rhythm builds slowly, deliberately, like a heartbeat gaining strength.
I move to the center of the space, and the demon chatter immediately dies. Even Erlik watches with genuine interest now.
"For my bride," I announce formally, my voice carrying over the music. "TheKaranlik Ayiniof my bloodline."
"Oh my," Banu breathes with obvious appreciation as I begin the opening movements. "Nesilhan, are you taking notes? Because this is definitely going in my personal collection of 'Things That Make Me Reconsider My Taste in Men.'"
The dance begins with the ancient postures—arms raised like wings of shadow, movements sharp and controlled, telling the story of conquest and power. Each step follows the music's rhythm, but there's something deeper here, something that speaks to instincts older than civilization.
My shadows respond to the choreography, writhing around me like extensions of my will. They follow the pattern written into my bloodline, weaving between my limbs as I turn and circle, arms cutting through air with deadly precision.
The music intensifies, and I move with it, the dance becoming more aggressive, more primal. This is the part that speaks of shadow lords who bowed to no one, who carved empires from the bones of their enemies, who loved with the same fierce intensity with which they conquered.
Around the chamber, demons watch in stunned silence. Whatever crude entertainment they expected, this isn't it. This is art and warfare and raw masculine power woven together.
I catch Nesilhan's expression and nearly stumble in the complex footwork. Her lips are parted, eyes wide with wonder and something much hotter. She's completely transfixed, watching every movement like she's memorizing it. Through our bond, I feel her pulse racing, feel the way her breath has quickened.
Beside her, Elcin leans in close and whispers something I can't quite hear over the music. Whatever she says makes Nesilhan's cheeks flush deeper, and a small smile curves her lips even as her gaze never leaves me.
I turn to face Nesilhan directly, and now the dance transforms from display to seduction. I crouch low, one hand sweeping across the stone floor in a wide arc while my other arm curves above my head like a striking serpent. My shadows follow the movement, pooling where my palm touches stone before spiraling upward in dark tendrils that mirror my gestures.
Rising with fluid grace, I roll my shoulders back, chest expanding as I step forward in a prowling circle around an invisible center. Each footfall is deliberate, predatory, my hips moving with the kind of controlled power that speaks of dominance barely leashed. The shadows writhe around my legs like silk scarves caught in the wind, caressing my thighs before flowing outward to encompass the space around Nesilhan.
I drop into another crouch, this time sweeping both hands along the ground in opposite directions, shadows trailing from my fingertips like liquid smoke. When I surge upright, my arms slice through the air in sharp, cutting motions—a warrior's strikes transformed into something hypnotic and dangerous. My torso twists with each movement, muscles flexing beneath my shirt as I demonstrate exactly what kind of strength she's bound herself to.
The music pounds through my veins as I sink into a low lunge, one hand braced against the floor while the other reaches toward her with obvious intent. My shadows pool beneath me before surging forward like grasping fingers, stopping just short of her feet in a clear message: I could claim you right here, right now, in front of everyone.
Through our bond, I sense Nesilhan's arousal—heat and wonder and desperate want all tangled together. The dance is working exactly as intended.
As the music reaches its crescendo, I sweep both hands along the floor one final time before dropping to one knee before her, arms spread wide in both offering and challenge. The shadows settle around me like a living cloak, and the chamber falls into complete silence except for the fading notes.
Nesilhan steps forward, her hand touching my face with trembling reverence. "That was..." she breathes, and through our bond I feel her overwhelming emotion—not just desire, but recognition of what the dance represents.
"Magnificent," she finishes, her voice carrying to every corner of the chamber.
I rise, pulling her against me with possessive satisfaction. Around us, the demons slowly begin to murmur again, but their tone has changed completely.
