Page 46 of Crown of Light and Ashes
The shadows at my feet pulse with his anger, but I stand my ground. "And what was I supposed to do? Let him kill you while I politely asked for his credentials?"
We face each other across the assassin's body, both breathing hard, neither willing to back down. The dark lines from the poison have spread further up his arm, but he seems to be ignoring them completely, his focus entirely on me.
Kaan sways suddenly, his eyes widening in surprise. Theshadows around my ankles dissolve, retreating back toward him only to dissipate into wisps of darkness. He reaches for the edge of his desk but misses, his coordination already failing.
"Kaan?" I take an involuntary step forward.
He tries to speak, but only manages a strangled sound before his knees buckle. I lunge forward, catching him before he hits the floor. His body is burning with fever, convulsing slightly as the poison works through his system.
Chapter Fourteen
The Curse
Kaan
THERE'S A PECULIAR irony to shadow magic, one that most people never live long enough to appreciate. The same darkness that gives me power can also consume me if I'm not careful.
Right now, it's doing exactly that.
I can feel the curse feeding on my shadow magic, growing stronger with each pulse of power through my veins. I was speaking to Nesilhan when I collapsed, accusing her of killing the enemy so I wouldn't get a chance to question him. The poison from the assassin's blade works quickly, completely immobilizing me, which is a fucking shame.
"If this is what dying feels like," I rasp to no one in particular, "I'm deeply disappointed. I expected a more dramatic exit. Perhaps a choir of demons singing my praises or at least some impressive pyrotechnics."
"Stop talking," a voice commands from somewhere to my left. Nesilhan. My beautiful bride sounds genuinely irritated, which I find oddly comforting. Hatred is familiar territory. Concern would be far more unsettling.
I turn my head, immediately regretting the movement as pain lances through my skull. She's sitting beside my bed, her golden eyes fixed on me with an intensity that might be unnerving if I weren't already in agony. The candlelight catches in her dark hair, creating a halo effect that seems painfully ironic given our circumstances.
"Ah,hatun," I manage through gritted teeth, "have you come to witness my suffering? Looking for pointers on how to finish the job?"
"I'm trying to keep you alive," she replies, pressing a cool cloth to my forehead. The brief contact sends an unexpected jolt through me that has nothing to do with the curse. Despite how I'm feeling my cock is fucking aware of her presence. "Though I'm questioning mysanity in the process."
"That makes two of us," I mutter, pushing the memories of me inside her away. "Why exactly are you playing nursemaid to your sworn enemy? Couldn't bear the thought of life without me?"
Her hand stills momentarily before continuing its work. "The blood bond, remember? If you die from this curse, I suffer, too." She wrings out the cloth in a basin beside her, then returns it to my brow. "Self-preservation is a powerful motivator."
"How convenient," I say, trying to inject my usual malice into the words, but they come out weaker than intended. I hate her seeing me in this position; vulnerability doesn't go well with my murderous persona. "And here I thought you'd developed a soft spot for your monster husband."
A commotion outside the chamber door interrupts whatever retort she might have made. Raised voices—Emir's distinctive baritoneamong them, along with what sounds like several of my shadow lords and the palace healers.
"Shadow Lord Kaan needs proper medical attention!" Emir's voice rings clear through the heavy door. "Let us through, Lady Nesilhan!"
Nesilhan rises with surprising grace, her body tensing like a warrior preparing for battle rather than a diplomat's daughter. Myhatun. "I handled them once. I'll handle them again."
"Handled them?" I manage to ask as she strides toward the door. "What exactly did you do to my most faithful servants,hatun?"
A smile flickers briefly across her face, sharp and dangerous. "I persuaded them that I was better equipped to manage your condition than they were."
She pulls the door open just enough to present her body as a barrier, her voice carrying clearly back to me. "I told you before, General Emir. No one enters. His shadow magic is volatile and attacking him from within. Any dark magic user who approaches risks triggering a reaction that could kill us all."
"We've brought light healers—" begins another voice.
"Who knows nothing of shadow curses," Nesilhan cuts him off. "I've studied these specific maladies. I know what I'm doing."
"And we're supposed to trust the word of a Light Court bride who has every reason to want him dead?" challenges a third voice—definitely Ozan, always the most suspicious of my inner circle.
"If I wanted him dead," Nesilhan replies with deadly calm, "I'd simply wait. The curse would do my work for me. Instead, I've been awake for three days fighting to keep your lord alive. Now, unless you want to explain to Kaan why your interference killed him, I suggest you leave us be."
The silence that follows speaks volumes. I'm almost impressed by the authority in her voice, the natural command that has nothing to dowith her diplomatic training and everything to do with something else entirely. Something she keeps hidden, except in moments like these.
