Page 94 of Crown of Light and Ashes
When she comes this time, she takes me with her. Her inner walls clamp down with such exquisite pressure that my control shatters entirely. I thrust deep one last time, my cock pulsing as I empty myself inside her with a hoarse shout that's half her name, half primal claiming.
"Mine," I growl against her neck as my release floods through her. "All fucking mine."
For endless moments afterward, we cling to each other, bodies still joined, heartbeats gradually slowing from their frantic pace. The water continues to cascade over us, washing away the evidence of our passion but not the connection that grows stronger with each encounter.
Eventually, I carry her from beneath the waterfall to a patch of soft moss nearby. We collapse together, her head on my chest, my arm around her waist possessively, watching the twilight filter through ancient trees.
After a comfortable silence, she props herself up on one elbow, studying my face with an intensity that would make me uncomfortable from anyone else.
"After what we just shared, after I gave you everything, you owe me one truth," she says suddenly, her voice soft but determined.
I give her a warning look, not liking the direction this is heading.
"You do," she insists, unfazed by my glare. "I've surrendered completely to you. Given you my body, my trust, even knowing what you are. You owe me this much in return."
I consider refusing, but something in her expression—the vulnerability beneath the bravado—stops me. "Fair enough," I concede finally. "One truth. Ask."
She hesitates, clearly weighing her options carefully. "Who is Isil?" she asks at last. "You whispered her name that day in your study when we were together. It made you stop everything and order me out."
Of all the questions she might ask, this one cuts deepest. I nearly refuse to answer, but the earnestness in her golden eyes makes me reconsider.
"Her name is Isil," I say after a long pause, the name strange on my tongue after so long. "She... meant everything to me, once. And thenshe broke my heart."
"How?" Nesilhan asks, her voice gentle.
"She died," I say simply, unwilling to elaborate further. "That's all you need to know."
Nesilhan's expression softens with compassion. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, her hand coming to rest over my heart. "Truly."
The genuine sympathy in her voice catches me off guard. There's no calculation there, no attempt to use this weakness against me—just honest empathy for my loss.
"Decades feel like yesterday when you're immortal," I say, trying to dismiss the topic but acknowledging the weight of time.
"But it still matters," she observes, her perception uncomfortably accurate. "The fact that you told me…that matters too. I know what it costs you."
Something shifts between us in that moment, something I'm not ready to name but can no longer deny. She sees me—not just the Shadow Lord, not just the monster of legend, but the man beneath. And despite everything, she's still here, her body entwined with mine, her eyes full of understanding rather than fear.
"I want this to change nothing," I say, more to convince myself than her.
Her smile is knowing, almost sad. "If you say so, my lord." She settles back against my chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin. "But we both know that's not what you really want."
I don't contradict her. Can't. Because the truth is, everything has already changed, and neither of us knows what happens next.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Truth Revealed
Nesilhan
I STARE AT the ceiling of my chamber, counting the intricate patterns in the obsidian molding for the third time this morning. My stomach churns unpleasantly, a persistent nausea that plagues me for days now. I attribute it to stress—the prophecy, my growing feelings for Kaan, the constant political machinations surrounding us, but deep down, I suspect it might be something else entirely.
A flash of silver light announces Banu's arrival before she fully materializes beside my bed. Her usual dramatic entrance is subdued today, her wings drooping slightly as she notices me lying down.
"Someone looks particularly miserable today," she says, hovering closer. "Are you trying for the 'tragic heroine wasting away from forbidden love' aesthetic, or is something actually wrong?"
I attempt to sit up but immediately regret the movement as my stomach lurches in protest. "I think something I ate disagreed with me."
Banu's eyebrows shoot up, her silver-blonde hair shifting to a concerned blue. "Food has been disagreeing with you for three days now, Nesi. Either the Shadow Court has the worst kitchen staff in all the realms, or something else is going on."
