Page 98 of Crown of Ashes and Desire

"Everyone out," Nadine ordered once we had settled him. "I need space to work."

"I'm staying," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Nadine assessed me with shrewd eyes that missed nothing. "Very well. But you"—she nodded at Melo—"wait outside."

Melo hesitated. She appeared uncharacteristically concerned. "I should search for Sarp," she said finally. "He was with the shadow warriors when Midas attacked."

I nodded, recognizing the worried glint in her fox eyes. In the short time Melo had known him, Sarp had somehow slipped past her considerable defenses. "Be careful."

"I will be fine Ada," she replied with a ghost of her usual smirk before slipping out the door.

Once alone with my sister, I collapsed beside Hakan's bed. My light was already seeking Kiraz's, a pull I felt in my very bones after weeks of separation. I desperately needed to see her, but I was filthy and covered in blood—not the way I wanted my daughter to see me after so long apart.

"Nadine, if he dies?—"

"He's the shadow lord, he won't," she interrupted, her hands already aglow with healing light. "Not while I have breath in my body. Not while you need him."

For three relentless hours, we worked in harmonized silence, her practiced healer's touch guiding my raw power. We called upon Ak Ana's ancient wisdom, weaving light into the deepest wounds where Midas's corrupted gold had left its poison. The golden venom hissed and steamed when our light magic purged it. Dawn had broken by the time we'd finished, both of us exhausted and blood-spattered.

"He'll live," Nadine pronounced finally, and wiped her hands on a cloth already stained crimson. "Though Kara Tanri himself must favor him. No ordinary man could survive such wounds."

"He's not ordinary," I murmured, brushing damp hair from Hakan's forehead. His breathing had stabilized, shadows once again clinging to his skin, though far weaker than normal.

When my fingers traced his brow, the binding between us pulsed in response—a quicksilver thread of connection that had transformed into something I couldn't name. Through it, I sensed his life force strengthening.

"So I see." Nadine studied the shadows with professional interest. "The binding between you has grown stronger since I last saw you. It's what kept him tethered to this realm instead of crossing to Erlik's domain."

I glanced up sharply. "Can you see our binding?"

She nodded, her healer's vision perceiving what others could not. "It's changed—evolved. Neither pure light nor shadow, but something new. The binding has grown stronger—it's what kept him alive."

At the mention of Kiraz, my heart constricted with longing and guilt. It had been weeks since I'd seen her, and now she was so close I could barely contain myself.

"I need to go to her," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "I need to see her now, before anything else happens."

Nadine's expression softened with understanding. "She's at my cottage with Iris. Go, Ada. Clean yourself up first—you don't want to frighten her with all this blood. I'll stay with him."

I looked down at myself—blood-soaked clothes, cuts on my face, exhaustion written in every line of my body. My daughter had already been through enough uncertainty; she didn't need to see me like this.

"Thank you," I whispered, squeezing Nadine's hand. "If he wakes?—"

"I'll handle it," she assured me. "Go to your daughter."

After washing all the blood off my body and changing into clean clothes Nadine had provided, I allowed myself a moment of vulnerability, pressing my forehead against Hakan's hand where it lay motionless on the bed.

"You idiot," I whispered fiercely, tears flowing freely now. "Taking those blades for me. What am I supposed to do with this? With you?" My voice broke. "How am I supposed to hate you when you keep proving yourself worthy of something else?"

His expression remained unchanged, but his shadows stirred faintly, curling around my wrist in desperate tendrils seeking warmth. They twined with my light in a gentle caress that resonated through our binding, carrying a ghost of emotion—regret, resolve, and something else I dared not name.

The memory of our souls touching during the battle returned with visceral intensity—the cascade of shared memories, the raw emotion that neither of us had been able to hide from the other. For those brief moments, we had been stripped of pretense, of the carefully constructed walls built over five years of separation.

Twenty minutes later, I stood outside Nadine's cottage, my hands trembling as I reached for the door. I had washed the blood away, changed into clean clothes Nadine had provided,but I felt raw and vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with physical wounds.

The door opened before I could knock.

"Mama?"

Kiraz stood in the doorway, her dark curls catching the morning light, her intelligent eyes—so much like mine in color but with Hakan's intensity—taking in my appearance with the careful assessment of a child who had learned to read danger.

---