Page 40 of Crown of Storm and Silence
He gives Nesilhan one last concerned look. "Elif, if you need anything..."
"She won't," I say flatly.
Sinan nods once and retreats with admirable speed, leaving us to our increasingly complicated morning.
Banu claps her hands together with false cheer.
"Right then, I think this calls for a more private discussion."
She loops her arm through Emir's and somehow manages to hook Elcin's as well, despite the taller woman's obvious reluctance.
"Come along, you two. Let's give the lovebirds a moment to process their impending doom in peace."
I watchas Banu successfully herds our unwanted audience away from the square, her voice fading as she guides them toward the inn. Emir throws me one last warning look over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner, leaving the square blissfully empty except for scattered bronze fragments and the lingering scent of ozone.
When the radiance finally fades completely, Nesilhan sits in her chair with her chest heaving, her golden eyes blazing with enough heat to melt steel. She's never looked more beautiful or more dangerous, and I'm fairly certain I've never been more aroused in my entire existence.
Once we are alone at last, her gaze snaps to mine, and the fury there should terrify me. Instead, it makes me want to drag her somewhere private and show her exactly how much her display of power has affected me.
"You," she says, her voice shaking with barely controlled rage, "are insufferable and?—"
"Devastatingly handsome?" I suggest helpfully. "Irresistibly charming? Magnificently?—"
"You're horrible," she snaps, her eyes flashing with genuine anger. "Do you think this is amusing?"
"No," I say quietly, my flippant mask slipping for a moment as I settle into the chair Sinan has so recently vacated. "But watching another man touch you? That wasn't amusing at all."
She stares at me, some of the fire in her eyes flickering with confusion. "That doesn't give you the right to?—"
"To what?" I interrupt, leaning forward. "To remind everyone that you belong with me? To show you that no matter what name you're hiding behind, you're still mine?"
"I don't belong to anyone," she says, but her voice wavers slightly.
"Don't you?" I ask softly, watching as her breathing quickens. "Then why does your pulse race when I'm near? Why do you glow brighter when I touch you?"
She looks down at her hands, and I can see the faint golden shimmer still lingering on her skin from our earlier contact.
"Come," I say, standing and offering her my hand. "Let's continue this conversation somewhere with fewer combustible monuments."
For a moment, I think she'll refuse. Then she takes my hand, and the connection that blazes between us at the simple touch nearly brings me to my knees.
Whatever's building between us, it's growing stronger.
And judging by the way she's looking at me—half fury, half hunger—she feels it too.
14
The Brother's Return
Nesilhan
The tensionin the square is thick enough to cut with a blade after my spectacular destruction of municipal property. Villagers peer at us from doorways and windows, their expressions ranging from awe to terror to what might charitably be called morbid curiosity. A few brave souls have begun creeping closer to examine the twisted remains of the bronze statue, their whispered conversations carrying words like "magic" and "impossible" and "dangerous."
"Perhaps," Kaan says with entirely too much satisfaction as he surveys the metallic carnage, "we should take this conversation somewhere with fewer witnesses and breakable objects."
His hand is still extended toward me, and despite every rational thought screaming warnings, I find myself reaching for it. The moment our fingers touch, that golden warmth spreads through me again—not the explosive, uncontrolled power from moments before, but something gentler. More intimate. Like coming home to something I'd forgotten I was missing.
"Walk with me?" he asks, and there's something in his voice—a careful restraint, perhaps, or maybe hope—that makes it impossible to refuse.
