Page 17 of Crown of Light and Ashes
"How quaint," I smile, showing too many teeth. "The Light Court lapdog thinks he can bare his teeth at me." I take a step forward, shadows swirling around me like a cloak of living night. "Tell me, dog, does she moan the same way for you as she does for other men? Or do you imagine you're special?"
"Aslan, run," Nesilhan urges, her voice tight with panic.
So this is her precious lover—Aslan, is it? Did she choose him for his heroic name, or was that just a happy coincidence? Like the ancient Light Court hero from children's stories. How disappointingly predictable.
"Yes, Aslan," I mock, my smile widening. "Do run. I so enjoy a chase. It really gets the blood pumping before the inevitable... conclusion."
Instead of fleeing, the fool launches himself at me, sword aimed at my heart. Brave. Stupid, but brave.
I don't bother to move. My shadows react before his blade can reach me, forming a shield that his sword clangs against harmlessly. The reverberations must pain his arm—I can see it in the wince he tries to hide.
"Was that your best effort? I've been threatened more convincingly by teething infants." I sigh dramatically. "I expected better from the man my bride chose to fuck on our wedding day."
Nesilhan has regained enough composure to pull on her trousers, though her tunic remains clutched to her chest rather than worn properly. A silver pendant dangles around her neck. One that wasn’t there before she left. It must be a gift from her lover.She's edging away, eyes darting around the clearing, assessing escaperoutes. The trained diplomat, suddenly revealing unexpected survival instincts. Interesting.
"He's not part of this," she says, her voice steadier now. "This is between you and me."
"Oh, I disagree entirely," I reply, circling to cut off her retreat. "He made himself part of this the moment he put his hands on what belongs to me."
"She doesn't belong to you," Aslan snarls, adjusting his grip on the sword.
I laugh at that, a sound that makes the shadows around us pulse with anticipation. "Perhaps not yet in the eyes of your court, but in mine? The moment she agreed to the blood debt, she became mine." I fix my gaze on Nesilhan. "So this is your precious Aslan—the one you run to before surrendering to your duty. How touching that you wanted one last taste of freedom." I step closer, shadows curling more tightly around me. "Did you tell him how tonight you'll be in my bed instead? How your body will belong to me alone?"
"Stop," she whispers.
"Oh, I'm just getting started," I reply, my voice like velvet over steel. "You should know, Light Court dog, that after today, you will never touch her again. Never see her again. The woman you just bedded will be mine in every way that matters." I place a hand over my heart in mock courtesy. "Where are my manners? Formal introductions are in order. I'm Lord Kaan of the Shadow Court, soon-to-be husband to this delightful creature who was just wrapping her legs around you. And you are..."
"The man who's going to kill you," Aslan growls, lunging at me again.
This time, I don't let my shadows simply block him. I'm tired of this little game. As his blade arcs toward me, I step aside and let myshadows surge forward, wrapping around his sword arm and yanking him off balance.
He stumbles but recovers quickly, spinning to face me with better skill than I expected. Perhaps this won't be entirely boring after all.
"Kaan, please," Nesilhan's voice cuts through the tension. "Let him go. I'll come with you willingly. I'll do whatever you want."
"Whatever I want?" I raise an eyebrow, keeping my attention fixed on Aslan. "A tempting offer, but I'm afraid it's too late for bargains. You see, I already know exactly what I want. I want to watch the light leave his eyes while you beg for his life."
The shadows around me coalesce, darkening and hardening into something with substance and weight. I send them surging toward Aslan in a wave, but he's quick, rolling aside with a grace that speaks of genuine training.
"He's faster than he looks," I remark conversationally to Nesilhan. "How long have you been seeing him? Was he waiting patiently each time you attended diplomatic functions? Did you laugh together about the monster of the Shadow Court while he was between your thighs?"
"It wasn't like that," she protests, anger momentarily overcoming her fear.
"No? Do enlighten me. I love a good romance story, especially when it ends in tragedy." I dodge another of Aslan's attacks, this one coming closer than the previous. "Which this one will. I'm just deciding how exactly to kill him. Something memorable for your wedding day."
Aslan launches himself at me again, but this time I'm done playing. My shadows whip out like tentacles, wrapping around his arms, his legs, his throat, lifting him off the ground. His sword clatters uselessly to the forest floor.
"Nesilhan, run!" he chokes out, still struggling against my shadows.
She doesn't run. Instead, to my genuine surprise,she launches herself at me, a small dagger suddenly in her hand. My shadows should have warned me about the weapon, but they were too focused on the betrayal before me—a rare failure I'll address later. The blade slices across my cheek before I can fully dodge, and I feel the warm trickle of blood.
I touch the wound with my fingertips, looking at the red smear with something close to delight. "My bride has claws," I say, grinning despite the sting. "And here I thought the wedding night would be boring."
My shadows respond to her attack, wrapping around her wrists and ankles, pinning her in place several feet away from me. Not hurting her—I need her intact for the ceremony—but immobilizing her completely.
"Now then," I turn my attention back to Aslan, suspended in the air before me, his face purpling as my shadows tighten around his throat. "Where were we? Ah, yes, I was deciding how to kill you."
"Don't," Nesilhan's voice breaks on the word. "Please, I'm begging you."
