Page 108 of Crown of Storm and Silence
"That was a strategic wall perforation."
"You threw a chair through a window."
"Strategic defenestration."
"And Kaan?" Emir adds with the satisfied air of a man getting his revenge. "Next time you want to discuss my personal life, remember I have centuries of your embarrassing moments to share."
He leaves with perfect military bearing, though I catch him glancing back at Banu with an expression that suggests his "security check" won't take very long.
The moment the door closes, Nesilhan leans forward with obvious interest. "All lright, now that he's gone—details. How was it?"
The way Nesilhan leans forward with that interested gleam in her eyes makes something dark and possessive coil in my chest. My shadows start moving restlessly as I watch her focus so intently on someone else's intimate details.
"No," I say, my voice dropping to that dangerous tone that sends smart people reaching for protective wards". "Absolutely fucking not."
"Come on," Nesilhan wheedles, completely oblivious to the way darkness is starting to pool around my feet. "I'm curious!"
That does it. I stand abruptly, chair scraping against stone, and before she can protest, I'm pulling her up and against me, one arm wrapping around her waist with possessive intent.
"You want to be curious about someone's bedroom activities?" I murmur against her ear, low enough that Banu can't hear, but she definitely catches the hunting edge. "How about I give you something worth being curious about instead?"
"Kaan—" she starts, but there's heat in her voice now, not protest.
"We're leaving," I announce to Banu, my hand sliding possessively down Nesilhan's spine. "My wife seems to have forgotten who she belongs to. Time for a fucking reminder."
Banu fans herself dramatically with her napkin, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, that got heated quickly." She stands, swaying slightly from the wine. "I think I'll go find our dear general. All this talk of weapons racks and possession has made me rather... breathless."
She heads toward the door with a knowing smirk.
As I pull Nesilhan toward the door, her laughter mixing with my growled promises of what's waiting for her, I catch sight of Banu practically floating toward wherever Emir is conducting his "security check."
Outside these walls, demons plot and Erlik schemes. Soon we'll face whatever fresh hell he's prepared for us.
But for now? For now, it's just us. Jealousy and possession, fairy seduction and general scandals, the kind of raw, messy, perfectly imperfect chaos that somehow makes us a family.
Even in hell, we've managed to find something worth fighting for.
And I'm about to show my wife exactly what that means.
At least until it's time for the purification ritual.
36
The Purification Ritual
Nesilhan
Every eyein the chamber fixes on us as we approach the ritual circle, their attention pressing against my skin like something alive and hungry. Demons, shadow lords, creatures whose names I've just remembered lean forward with predatory interest, studying Kaan and me like we're the evening's entertainment.
Just an hour ago, I was laughing with Banu and Emir in the receiving chamber, watching Kaan's possessive scowl as Banu teased him about some admirer from my past. The normalcy of that moment feels like a lifetime ago now, swept away by the urgency of this ritual and the weight of so many hostile eyes upon us.
Now, through that precious connection, I feel his unease threading through his love for me. He's trying to project strength, but I sense his growing alarm as he takes in the elaborate magical setup, the way his shadows respond sluggishly to commands they should obey instantly.
The air thrums with power so ancient it makes my teeth ache, and every shadow in the room bends toward the raised dais where Erlik waits with ceremonial blades that gleam like captured starlight.
"The purification requires blood from both participants," Erlik explains with the casual tone of someone discussing the weather while planning an execution. "Your corrupted essence and her light magic, combined through ritual sacrifice to cleanse what two centuries of poison have wrought."
I study the ceremonial setup with growing dread. This feels excessive for a simple cleansing ritual—too many runes, too much power flowing through crystalline conduits that pulse with malevolent life. Through the bond, I feel Kaan's matching unease, but the silver veins spreading up his throat remind us both that we're past the point of retreat.
