Page 71 of Crown of Ashes and Desire

I crowded her against the ancient stone, caging her with my arms. “The silver ink gave it away,” I said. I watched her eyes widen with understanding. “Ancient pathways marked in enchanted script. My shadow vision sees through more than just darkness, Ada.”

Her eyes flashed with panic while I reached for her sleeve, but the moment my fingers brushed the fabric, a pulse of pure light erupted from her skin. The magic wasn’t controlled—it exploded outward in a defensive burst that even she seemed surprised by. I staggered back.

When my vision cleared, Ada stood staring at her own hands in apparent shock.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and for once she sounded genuine. “I didn’t mean to—I couldn’t control it.”

A memory surfaced—Ada at seventeen, waking disoriented in the palace gardens, light magic crackling uncontrollably around her. I’d found her then, too, confused and frightened by her own power.

Could she be telling the truth now? The uncontrolled nature of that magical outburst suggested it was possible.

“Where is your fox shadow?” I asked, and noted Melo’s absence.

“She wasn’t with me when I woke,” she said carefully. “Melo doesn’t follow when I sleepwalk—she learned long ago that trying to guide me back to bed only makes the episodes worse.”

That was curious—but it made sense. The guardian’s protective instincts would war with the knowledge that interference often prolonged Ada’s sleepwalking episodes.

“Come,” I said abruptly, and took her arm. “We’re leaving.”

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, and tried to pull free.

“To my chambers,” I replied, and tightened my grip. “Where I can ensure you don’t go wandering into danger again.”

“Your chambers?” she repeated, genuine alarm in her voice. “But we agreed I would maintain my own quarters despite the marriage ceremony.”

“That arrangement has proven inadequate to keep you safe,” I replied, my tone brooking no argument. “Until the ritual, you stay where I can ensure you don’t go wandering—even in your sleep.”

We reached my private chambers, and I pushed open the heavy doors, guiding her inside. She stood stiffly in the center of the room, eyeing the massive bed with thinly veiled apprehension.

“You’ll sleep here,” I informed her. I released her arm.

“With you?” she asked, tension evident in every line of her body.

“Is the thought so repulsive?” I countered, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “You didn’t seem to find me repulsive in the garden.”

Color rose in her cheeks. “That was…different.”

“Was it?” I moved closer, and watched her pulse quicken at my approach. “Or is this just another game you’re playing, Ada? Another manipulation?”

She met my gaze steadily. “Not everything is a game, Hakan.”

"No?" I laughed bitterly. "My father seems to think otherwise. He believes you're playing me quite expertly."

Something like hurt flashed in her eyes. “I don’t care what your father thinks.”

“You should,” I replied coldly. “Because in two weeks, when the winter solstice aligns the shadow and light realms, he expects me to drain your light completely for the Crown of Ashes Ritual—the ceremony that will supposedly grant me complete dominion over both realms. And if I don’t…” I left the threat hanging. “He’ll do it himself, and ensure you suffer every moment.”

Her expression hardened. “Then why delay? Why not just get it over with now?”

Her accusation found its mark, sharp and true. Why was I searching for alternatives when the winter solstice—and the alignment of shadow and light realms—was only two weeks away? Why risk my father’s wrath by delaying what he saw as inevitable?

The words felt toxic as I spoke them. Part of me—the part still clawing its way back from my father’s spell—wanted to take them back, to tell her the truth. But I couldn’t risk it. Not yet. Not until I knew for certain I could protect her.

“Rest,” I said instead of answering, and turned away. “I have matters to attend to.”

“Hakan.” Her voice stopped me at the door. “What happens after the ritual? If we both survive—what then?”

I glanced back at her. “Then we’ll both be free,” I replied. “You from me, me from my father.”

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