I leaned against the nearest shelf, mind reeling. Martha knew my secret. She claimed to know how to protect against Erlik. And she knew about pathways out of the shadow realm that even Narin wasn’t aware of.
Was it a trap? A test? Or was Martha exactly what she appeared to be—a wounded, bitter woman seeking escape from a world that had used and discarded her? Whatever her motives, she’d confirmed one thing: I wasn’t the only one seeking freedom from this realm of shadows.
The library had provided no solutions, only more questions. After leaving Martha and her cryptic offer behind, I’d spent hours wandering the palace corridors, desperate for Melo’s guidance, but she had been strangely absent since I saw her earlier.
I rounded a corner near the eastern tower and froze at the sight before me. Melo, in her human form, pressed against the wall by Sarp, his hands tangled in her flame-red hair as they kissed with a desperate intensity that suggested this wasn’t their first encounter.
The shock kept me rooted in place, unable to retreat without being noticed. Melo’s hands clutched at Sarp’s shoulders, her body arching into his with unmistakable hunger. Nothing was teasing or playful about their embrace—it carried the weight of genuine passion, of need too long denied.
The sight stirred something unexpected in me—a strange parallel to my situation with Hakan. Here were two beings from different worlds, shadow and light, yielding to an attraction that defied reason. Just as Hakan and I had done, time and again, despite every logical reason to resist.
I must have made some small sound, because Melo’s eyes suddenly snapped open, meeting mine over Sarp’s shoulder. In an instant, golden light flashed, and she transformed back into her fox form, leaving Sarp grasping at empty air.
“Melo—” he began, confusion evident in his voice when he turned to see what had startled her.
“Well,” Sarp said, his usual grin spreading across his face. He straightened his disheveled clothing. “So," Sarp said, his grin holding that edge of danger that had charmed countless court ladies, "I have to say, that's the most enthusiastic anyone's ever been about my kissing technique. Though I'm curious—do you always glow when you're aroused, or is that a special fox spirit thing? Because I have to admit, it's incredibly attractive."
Melo’s fox form went rigid, her turquoise eyes flashing with indignation before she transformed back into her human shape with a burst of angry golden light.
She fixed Sarp with a glacial stare. “You’re just like all the other shadow lords—arrogant, entitled, thinking you can possess what isn’t yours to claim. Did you think a few pretty words and passable kisses would make me forget what you are?”
Sarp flinched as if physically struck.
“I was bored, and you are my entertainment in this shithole,” Melo continued. “Something that passes the time.”
Without another word or backward glance, she transformed back into her fox form and darted away down the corridor, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.
Sarp’s expression shifted from hurt to a practiced neutrality, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. “Well,” hesaid finally, his voice was light, “that was refreshingly honest, if lacking in tact.”
“Sarp,” I began, and stepped toward him. “She didn’t mean?—”
“Oh, I think she meant exactly what she said,” he interrupted, and smoothed his rumpled clothing with exaggerated care. “Most women prefer to let a man down more gently. ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ that sort of thing. I appreciate the direct approach.”
“She’s afraid,” I said. “Afraid of getting close to anyone.”
“Aren’t we all?” He attempted a careless smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “No need to worry about me, Ada. I’m quite accustomed to making spectacularly poor romantic choices. It’s something of a specialty.”
I studied him for a moment, noting the genuine pain he was trying so hard to hide. “I need you to promise me something, Sarp.”
“Another oath of secrecy regarding your private matters?” he guessed, his tone was flippant. “Consider it already sworn. I have no desire to make your life more complicated than it already is.”
“Thank you,” I said.
He waved away my gratitude. “Think nothing of it. Consider it my good deed for the century.” He looked at me more closely, his expression shifting to one of curious assessment. “Speaking of complicated lives, you seem remarkably…composed for someone who spent the night in Hakan’s bed. I confess I expected more righteous anger, perhaps some colorful bruising.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “That’s none of your business.”
“Ah, so it was good, then.” His smile turned knowing. “I did wonder if five years apart would have dampened that particular fire. Apparently not.”
“I should go,” I said stiffly. I didn’t want to discuss such matters with him.
“Of course, of course.” He made a shooing gesture. “Back to your shadow prince. I’m sure he’s pacing the floors even now, wondering where his precious light-bearer has wandered off to. He was always possessive, but marriage seems to have intensified that particular quality.”
“He doesn’t own me,” I insisted.
“Tell him that.” Sarp’s expression softened. “Be careful, Ada. Whatever game you’re playing with him—whatever secrets you’re keeping—remember that there’s more at stake than just your heart this time.”
His warning resonated more deeply than he knew. The risks of my choices extended far beyond my fate, affecting those I had sworn to protect.