Page 92 of Crown of Light and Ashes
My shadows track her movement through the forest, a habit I can't break despite promising her freedom. The sound of rushing water draws me deeper into the forest, to the twilight pools Nesilhan mentioned wanting to see. The small waterfall cascades down moss-covered stones, its waters gleaming with a peculiar blue-silver light unique to the shadow realm.
And there—standing beneath the cascade—is Nesilhan.
She has stripped down to a thin shift that clings to her body, now translucent from the water pouring over her. Her dark hair streamsdown her back, her face tilted upward into the flow, eyes closed in apparent bliss. The water traces paths down her throat, between her breasts, highlighting every curve and plane of her body in the twilight glow.
I'm frozen, unable to move or announce my presence, captivated by the sight of her. Something hot and possessive unfurls in my chest at the realization that no one else sees her like this. No one else knows the fierce intelligence behind those golden eyes, the quiet strength in her slender form, the fire she keeps banked but never extinguished.
She must sense my presence, or perhaps my shadows, always more revealing than I intend—because her eyes open suddenly, fixing on me through the curtain of water. For a moment, neither of us moves, the air between us charged with something electric and inevitable.
"Kaan," she says finally, my name no longer carrying the venom it once did. She steps out from under the waterfall, water sluicing down her body in rivulets that draw my gaze irresistibly downward. "I didn't expect to find you here."
"I could say the same." My voice emerges rougher than intended. "The shadow forest isn't safe for those unaccustomed to its dangers."
She raises an eyebrow,"And yet, here I am. Unharmed and quite capable of defending myself." She takes a step closer, head tilting slightly. "Unless you're offering to protect me?"
The teasing lilt in her voice is new, unexpected—a development from the last few days as the tension between us has shifted from antagonistic to something more complex.
"The Council wants to send you away," I find myself saying, the words escaping before I can consider their wisdom. "To the southern palace. For your protection."
Her expression changes, wariness replacing the playful light in her eyes. "And what did you tell them?"
"That anyone suggesting such a thing could join our garden statuary collection."
Her eyes widen slightly. "You refused? Even though it might be safer for me elsewhere?"
"You belong with me," I say, the possessiveness in my tone surprising us both. "Here. Where I can protect you."
She studies me, something shifting in her golden eyes. "Is that the only reason? Because I'm yours to protect? Your possession?"
The question hangs between us, loaded with truths neither of us has been willing to address. The air feels suddenly charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.
"No," I admit, the truth dragged from somewhere deep and long buried. "That's not the only reason."
I reach for her, unable to resist the magnetism that has been building between us since that night in my bed—the night everything changed. My hand cups her cheek, thumb brushing across her lower lip in a touch far gentler than I've allowed myself with her before.
Her breath catches, pupils dilating as she leans into my touch rather than away from it.
"What are we doing, Kaan?" she whispers, her voice carrying a vulnerability I've never heard from her. "What is this becoming?"
"I don't know," I answer honestly, dropping the mask and armor I've worn for centuries. "But I can't stop it. Can't stop wanting…"
I break off, unwilling to voice the dangerous need that grows stronger each day.
"Can't stop wanting what?" she presses, stepping closer until our bodies nearly touch.
"You," I admit, the word torn from somewhere I’ve kept locked since Isil's death. "All of you. Not just your body. Not just your submission. Everything. Your fire, your defiance, your strength. I want to possess every breath you take, every thought in that brilliant mind."
The confession is too honest, too raw. I expect her to retreat, to reconsider the strength of her enemy. Instead, she rises to her toes and presses her lips to mine.
The kiss ignites something primal between us. Her lips are soft but demanding, meeting my hunger with equal fervor. There's no hesitation now, no questioning—only the raw need that's been building like a storm beneath our careful facades.
My hands find her waist, pulling her against me as the kiss deepens. She makes a small sound in the back of her throat—not quite a moan, but something more vulnerable, more honest. Her arms wrap around my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as she presses herself more firmly against me.
The shadows around us respond to my desire, darkening the forest and creating a cocoon of privacy. Within moments, the world outside ceases to exist—there is only Nesilhan, her body warm and yielding against mine, her mouth sweet and demanding.
When we break apart, both breathing hard, I see something in her eyes that terrifies me more than any enemy ever did—a softness, a surrender that has nothing to do with fear or manipulation.
"I shouldn't want this," she whispers, her hands still in my hair. "After everything... I should hate you."
