Page 41 of Crown of Light and Ashes
"They received your orders in the garden," she says. "Right after they made me laugh."
Caught, I switch tactics. "The northern border is a significant security concern. I sent my best men to handle it."
"Of course," she agrees, her tone making it clear she doesn't believe me for a second. "Nothing to do with the fact that they showed me basic courtesy."
"I've shown you plenty of courtesy," I protest. "I haven't killed you once."
"A true romantic." She turns back to the fountain, her voice softening unexpectedly. "What is it, exactly? This shadow essence?"
The change of subject catches me off guard. I find myself responding automatically, like a fucking tutor rather than a fearsome shadow lord. "It's pure shadow magic in liquid form. Harvested fromthe deepest part of the Shadow Realm, where light has never penetrated. One drop can extinguish a standard Light Court illumination spell."
She nods, genuinely interested. "And the fountain contains it safely because..."
"Because the basin is lined with obsidian carved with containment runes," I explain, moving closer without thinking. "The same principle as a blood binding altar, but inverted. It keeps the essence from seeping into the ground or evaporating."
"Fascinating," she murmurs, and to my surprise, she seems to mean it.
I find myself watching her profile—the delicate curve of her cheek, the way her eyelashes cast tiny shadows on her skin. The sunlight catches in her dark hair, revealing threads of deep auburn I haven't noticed before. The sight stirs something in me that I refuse to examine too closely.
"Why the sudden interest in shadow magic?" I ask, partially to distract myself from these unwelcome observations.
She shrugs, a graceful movement that draws my eye to the line of her shoulder. "Know thy enemy, isn't that what they say?"
"Is that what I am to you? Just an enemy?"
"What else would you be?" she asks, finally turning to face me fully.
Her gaze is direct, challenging. The blood bond between us pulses with something I can't quite identify, neither hatred nor desire, but some complex emotion I have no name for. I think of how she responded in the hallway, the way her eyes darkened when she realized we weren't alone, how her body tightened around mine. I reach for her through the bond, trying to sense her true feelings about that revelation—about the pleasure she found in being watched—but encounter that same frustrating barrier that has been there since our wedding night. Her ability to block our connection is unlike anything I've encountered before.
"I am your husband," I remind her, stepping closer. This time she holds her ground, though I can hear her heartbeat quicken. "Your lord. Your master."
"My captor," she counters. "My nightmare."
"Your destiny," I insist, closing the remaining distance between us. We are close enough now that I can feel the heat radiating from her body, smell the faint scent of light magic that clings to her skin. "Whether you accept it or not,hatun,we are bound. Forever."
I reach out, unable to resist the urge to touch her. My fingers trace the curve of her cheek, light enough that she could have pulled away if she wanted. She doesn't. Instead, she stands perfectly still, her golden eyes never leaving mine.
"I will never accept it," she says quietly. "I will fight you until my last breath."
"I'm counting on it," I admit, surprising both of us with my honesty. "It would be terribly boring otherwise."
Something shifts in the air between us, not quite tension easing, but changing form. For a brief moment, we are simply two people locked in a strange dance neither fully understands. Not enemies, not lovers, but something undefined and dangerous.
The moment shatters as a strange sensation prickles at the edge of my consciousness—a presence where none should be. I turn sharply, scanning the courtyard, every sense suddenly alert.
"What is it?" Nesilhan asks, noticing my sudden tension.
I extend my awareness outward, shadows probing the surrounding area. There—near the eastern archway. A disturbance in the air, like heat rising from stone. A scent that doesn't belong—jasmine and something older, wilder. This presence feels different from the mental barriers Nesilhan possesses; this is something external, foreign to my realm entirely. I move toward it, shadows gathering densely around me.
"Stay back," I order Nesilhan, my focus entirely on the invisible presence I can sense but not see.
The sensation vanishes as quickly as it appeared, leaving only a faint trace of magic unlike anything I've encountered before. Not Light Court, not Shadow Court—something else entirely.
I turn back to Nesilhan, suspicion blooming. "What was that?"
"What was what?" she asks, her confusion appearing genuine. But there is something else in her expression, a wariness that hadn't been there before.
"Don't play innocent," I growl, stalking back to her. "There was someone…or something…here just now. Something that shouldn't exist within my court."
