Midas twisted his hand, redirecting rather than blocking my next attack. A shadow-dagger materialized at Sarp’s throat. “Call off your attack, or your pet loses his head.”
“He’s bluffing, Hakan.” Sarp chuckled, his shadows emerging despite the blade at his neck. But he held back, reading the room—he knew when to let me handle my battles and when to intervene.
“Enough,” I commanded, not withdrawing my shadows but holding them steady. “What exactly do you want, Midas?”
“Merely confirmation of what I suspected.” His eyes gleamed with triumph. “You’re meant to be extracting her light, preparing for the ritual that will give Erlik control over light territories that were his before Gün Ata stole them.”
The territories my father seeks—stolen by Gün Ata, or so our histories claim. Ada once told me they chose light willingly. Another truth buried by centuries of propaganda.
With a violent surge, I pushed past his defenses, shadows slamming him against the wall hard enough to crack the stone. “Listen carefully,” I growled, pressing closer despite the shadowshe was driving into my ribs like knives. “Ada is mine. Not a topic for your amusement, not a bargaining chip with my father, and certainly not something you ever approach without my permission.”
“Possessive, aren’t we?” Midas wheezed through my grip. “I once felt that way about Martha. Before I discovered her betrayal.” His smile turned ugly. “She tried to flee to the Light Court with my secrets. I made sure she’d never be welcome in either realm again. A fitting punishment, don’t you think?”
His casual admission of destroying Martha disgusted me. More disturbing was the realization that I had once been capable of such calculated cruelty myself.
“Your father already knows,” Midas spat blood onto the floor between us. “Why do you think he sent me? He can sense your weakness growing.” His shadows twisted suddenly, slicing deeper into my side. “The ritual requires sacrifice, Hakan. Her sacrifice. Or have you forgotten that part?”
I drove my knee into his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs even as his shadows carved furrows across my chest. “I know what the ritual requires,” I snarled into his face. “And I will do what must be done.”
“Will you?” Midas laughed through bloodied teeth. “Because from where I stand,”—he drove a shadow-blade between my ribs, forcing me to stagger back—“you seem pathetically compromised.”
“For fuck’s sake, Hakan, enough,” Sarp called sharply, and moved between us. “He’s baiting you, and you’re giving him exactly what he wants.”
The reality crashed through me with new clarity. Not just Ada’s death, but her complete annihilation—the extinguishing of her brilliant, fierce spirit. My stomach twisted with revulsion. Would she end up like Martha—a broken shell haunting my corridors, seeking oblivion in shadow spirits?
My father’s ancient rivalry with Ada’s father had made him obsessed with claiming her light—not just for power, but for vengeance. It was why he’d pushed me to bind her for the ritual, manipulating the situation so I would bring her back into his reach.
A plan that grew more unthinkable with each passing day. I couldn’t do it, because despite everything, despite my choices and her hatred, I couldn’t bear a world without Ada in it. The thought of her light extinguished forever left a hollow so profound I could barely breathe through it.
“I know what the ritual requires,” I replied, my tone of voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “And I will do what must be done when the time comes.”
“Will you, though?” Sarp asked quietly, his eyes fixed on me rather than Midas.
Midas rose slowly, straightening his robes. “I share your friend’s skepticism. The great Hakan, brought low by a pretty face and a tragic past. How very…human of you.”
“Get out,” I commanded, my patience at its end. “Tell my father whatever you wish. But remember my warning about Ada. It wasn’t a threat—it was a promise.”
“Your father will be disappointed to hear of your…attachment.” He smiled, vicious and knowing. “As will your little light-bearer when I tell her the truth about what you plan to do to her.”
I lunged forward, but Sarp caught my arm.
“Perhaps I’ll mention it to her in the gardens,” Midas continued. He backed toward the door. “Or shall I send Martha to tell her instead? The women might find they have much in common—both betrayed by men they trusted, both destined to be used and discarded. Though your Ada still has her light…for now.”
That he would use Martha’s pain as a weapon pushed me to the edge of control. “You speak of betrayal,” I said, my tone dropping dangerously, “yet you were the one who destroyed her when she tried to escape with your secrets.”
A flash of genuine rage crossed Midas's face. "Careful, Hakan. Some might think you're developing a conscience. I wonder," he continued, "what she would do if she knew her purpose in your grand ritual?" His shadows coiled at his feet like vipers. "Don't mistake possession for control, Hakan. Your light-bearer's chains are slipping. I'd tighten them before she realizes her true worth—or before someone else shows her a different path."
"Did it ever occur to you, Midas," I said, my words deadly quiet, "that perhaps I've found another path myself?" The statement emerged before I could stop it, dangerous in its implication.
Midas paused, genuine surprise flickering across his features before his mask of disdain returned. "Watch yourself, Hakan. Some paths lead only to destruction."
He was gone before I could respond, leaving behind the metallic scent of blood mingled with his shadow magic. I let him go—stopping him now would only confirm his suspicions about my feelings for Ada. Better to let him think he’d gained the upper hand.
“That went about as well as expected,” Sarp said. “Though I thought you might actually kill him when he mentioned Ada.”
“I should have,” I growled.
“I spotted him lurking near the gardens earlier today,” Sarp added. “Before he came to see you.”