Page 101 of Crown of Light and Ashes
"I've considered having you stuffed and mounted as a particularly annoying wall decoration," I retort.
"Kinky," she replies with a waggle of her eyebrows that nearly startles a laugh from me.
Emir approaches, his usual stoicism faltering slightly at the sight before him—his lord and master creating shadow butterflies for giggling orphans while a fairy showers them with sparkles.
"My lord," he greets me, his tone carefully neutral. "The reports you requested."
Banu zips over to hover near Emir's shoulder, her hair shifting to a telling pink. "General Emir," she greets him. "Still maintaining perfect posture, I see. Your spine must be made of steel."
"Lady Banu," he acknowledges with a slight bow. "My spine is merely disciplined."
"I've always appreciated discipline," she replies, fluttering closer. "Especially in men who know how to use it properly."
"Fairy," I warn, narrowing my eyes at her suggestive tone.
"What?" she asks innocently. "I meant in battle, of course. Though I imagine the general's... discipline... extends to other arenas as well." She winks at Emir, whose ears redden ever so slightly.
"If you two are quite finished," I interrupt, raising an eyebrow at Emir's unexpected reaction to the fairy's flirtation.
Nesilhan rises gracefully to her feet. "The children were hoping Lord Kaan might show them one more shadow trick before he returns to his important duties."
One small boy, braver than the others, steps forward. "Can you make a dragon?" he asks, his voice quavering slightly. "A big one that breathes fire?"
I should refuse. Should remind them all of my fearsome reputation. Instead, I find myself gathering shadows once more, forming theminto the shape of a massive dragon that coils through the air above us, wings spanning the entire clearing.
The children shriek with delight as the shadow dragon swoops low, its maw opening to release a harmless burst of dark flame that dissipates into sparkling embers. For a moment, I let myself forget who I am—the responsibilities, the darkness that has defined me for centuries. For just this moment, I am simply creating beauty from shadows, bringing joy rather than fear.
Nesilhan steps to my side, her hand finding mine with casual intimacy. "They'll remember this day forever," she says softly. "The day the Shadow Lord showed them that darkness can create wonder, not just terror."
"Is that what I'm doing?" I ask, genuinely uncertain.
"Yes," she says simply. "And you're rather good at it."
Our fingers intertwine, her touch anchoring me to this strange, unexpected moment of peace. Through our bond, I feel her contentment, her happiness, and beneath it all, something deeper that terrifies me with its intensity.
"Next month," she suggests, "you might join us again?"
Next month. A future that stretches beyond battle plans and power plays. The concept is so foreign that it leaves me momentarily speechless.
"Perhaps," I say noncommittally, though something in me already knows I'll be here, watching for her smile, for that look in her eyes when I create beauty from darkness.
As the children gather around Banu, who has begun producing tiny illusions for their amusement, Nesilhan looks up at me with an expression so open, so trusting, that it steals my breath. Before I can second-guess myself, I lean down, intent on claiming her mouth, on showing everyone present—children, Emir, even the irritating fairy — that she is mine in ways that go beyond possession or conquest.
But she rises on her toes, meeting me halfway, pressing her lips tomine with a gentleness I don't deserve. The kiss is unlike any we've shared before—no power struggle, no dominance or submission. Just pure connection, an acknowledgment of whatever this dangerous thing between us has become.
The moment her lips touch mine, a vision crashes through me with terrifying clarity—Nesilhan, round with child. My child. A son with her golden eyes and my dark hair, learning to control shadows that come as naturally to him as breathing. His small hand in mine, trusting me to guide him through the darkness. His laughter echoing through chambers that have known only silence and fear for centuries.
A family I never thought possible, never thought I deserved.
And with that vision comes the memory of Isil's blood on my hands, of control lost and damage irreparable. Of the darkness that consumed me when I learned of her pregnancy, that took over and left only destruction in its wake. The terror that rises in me is so profound, so all-consuming that my shadows violently flare outward, startling nearby children.
I could lose control again. Could destroy everything. Could hurt—
No. Not her. Never her.
I pull back abruptly, stepping away from Nesilhan as if burned. Confusion flickers across her face, hurt quickly masked by understanding as she senses my turmoil through our bond.
"The reports, Emir," I say, my voice harsher than intended. "We should review them now."
