Page 80 of Crown of Light and Ashes
"I don't believe you," I say, but my voice lacks conviction.
"You don't want to believe me," he corrects. "But deep down, you know there's truth in what I am saying."
I stand, needing to move, to think. The dizziness has subsided enough that I can walk, though my legs still feel unsteady.
"My father did all of this…" My mind can't seem to wrap itself around this.
I'm staring at the floor when feet appear in front of me. When I look up, Damir is there, and all I see is Aslan in his gaze.
"I'm sorry, Nesi," he says, his expression flickering between pain and rage, as if two different people are fighting for control. "I want to save you, but seeing you with him... Damir's memories, his hatred—it's poisoning everything I feel for you."
I reach out to touch him, but he pulls away. The warmth I glimpsed vanishes, replaced by something cold and hard. "I saw you," he says flatly. "In the corridor with him."
Understanding crashes over me like a wave. The corridor. Kaan pressing me against the wall. My body responding shamefully, eagerly to his touch.
"Aslan, I can explain," I begin, though I have no idea whatexplanation could possibly suffice. "The blood bond—it creates feelings that aren't…"
"Aren't what?" he cuts me off, anger flaring. "Aren't real? Aren't yours? Don't insult me with excuses, Nesi. I was there. I saw the way you melted for him, the way you moaned his name."
Shame burns through me, hot and painful. "It's complicated," I whisper. "The magic between us…"
"Magic can only influence, not create," he says harshly. "It can't manufacture desire where none exists. It can't make you wrap your legs around your enemy's waist in a public corridor."
Each word is a knife, cutting deeper than any physical wound. I have no defense because he's right—the bond may have amplified my response to Kaan, but it didn't create it from nothing.
"I'm sorry," I say, the words woefully inadequate. "I never meant to hurt you." My lips drag down with a pain I can't even find words for. I have hurt him so badly.
"And yet you did," he replies, turning away. "But it doesn't matter now."
I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. "What do you mean?"
He moves to the small table, retrieving something from among various vials and instruments. When he turns back, he's holding a small crystal vial filled with iridescent purple liquid.
"I found a way to free you," he says, excitement suddenly replacing the bitterness in his voice. "To break the blood bond."
I stare at the vial in disbelief. "That's not possible. Kaan said the bond can never be broken."
"And you believed him?" Scorn drips from each word. "The man who enslaved you with blood magic? Of course, he would tell you it's permanent. He wants you to believe you're his forever."
"But the magic is ancient," I argue. "Even Banu said—"
"Your fairy friend knows much, but noteverything," he interrupts. "Damir's memories contain knowledge passed through generations of Shadow Court guards, secrets even the Shadow Lord doesn't know."
He holds out the vial. "This will sever the magical connection completely. One drink, and you'll be free of him. Free to return to the Light Court. Free to be yourself again."
I should feel elated. This is what I wanted since the moment Kaan bound me to him: freedom from the magical tether that connects us. Yet I hesitate, my hand not reaching for the vial.
"What happens after?" I ask. "If the connection breaks, what then?"
"Then we leave," he says as if it's obvious. "We return to the Light Court, warn them about the prophecy, about the conspiracy between the courts."
"And Kaan?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
His eyes narrow. "What about him?"
"What happens to him if the bond breaks? Will it hurt him?"
A cruel smile twists his lips—an expression I've never seen on Aslan's face before. "Why would you care?"
