She looks like death walking.
Her golden eyes are red-rimmed, her face pale and drawn. She's changed into Shadow Court blacks—the first time she's worn our colors since we lost our son—but the fabric hangs on her like she's forgotten how to fill it. Her hands tremble slightly at her sides, and I can see the effort it's taking her to remain upright.
But beneath the devastation, something new burns in her expression. Something hard and cold and utterly merciless.
Rage.
"I told you to rest," I say quietly.
"Rest." She laughs—a soulless, terrible sound. "My father murdered my baby and let me believe it was my fault. You think I can rest?" Her voice cracks on the last word, grief bleeding through the fury, but she doesn't break. She takes a breath, steadies herself, and continues. "My father wants to kidnap me? Let him try. But he'll find I'm not the obedient daughter he remembers."
Elçin moves to stand beside her. Her hand rests casually on her sword hilt.
"The attack should come from three sides," Zoran suggests, redirecting focus to the maps. "Shadow warriors from the north, Fae forces from the east, and a smaller elite force from the west to cut off retreat."
"We'd need to move immediately," General Hakan points out. "Before dawn, to be in position by first light."
"It's risky," Emir cautions. "If they realize it's a trap, or if they have forces we don't know about..."
"Then we adjust," I say firmly. "But we take this opportunity. Lord Taren declared war by ordering my son's death. Now he'll learn what that really means."
The room fills with murmurs of agreement, plans being formulated, troops being assigned. I move to where Nesilhan stands with Elçin, maintaining enough proximity to make it clear we're united in this.
"I don't like using you as bait," I tell her quietly. "If anything goes wrong?—"
"It won't," she interrupts, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "Because you'll be there. We both will be." She meets my eyes, and I see something shift in her expression—not forgiveness, not absolution, but a fierce, terrible determination. "And my father is going to learn that I'm not his daughter anymore—I'm the Lady of the Shadow Court, and I protect what's mine."
"Clear the room," I order once the basic plan is established. "Everyone except Emir, Banu, Zoran, and Elçin."
When only the six of us remain, I allow my political mask to drop. My shadows surge outward, filling the chamber with freezing darkness that makes candles gutter and stones groan.
"Before we face Taren, there's something else we need to address." I look at Banu and Elçin. "Yasar. Where is he?"
Banu's playful expression vanishes, replaced by something grimmer. "Gone. Vanished the same day you left for theLight Court." Her lavender eyes flicker with uncharacteristic seriousness. "No one's seen him since. Not his servants, not his contacts. His rooms look like he left in a hurry."
"Smart of him," I say, my voice cold. "I was about two seconds away from tearing him apart, cousin or not."
"The binding is dissolved," Elçin adds. "But his disappearance immediately after raises questions."
Questions I've been turning over in my mind since we returned. Yasar's timing has always been too convenient—appearing when war began, vanishing during battle, reappearing with information that seemed too perfect. And now, leaving when the bond broke—not when we discovered it, but when it ended?
"He could have gone back to Erlik," I say slowly, thinking aloud. "To Kara. Somewhere my father's protection would shield him from my retribution."
"Or," Nesilhan says, her voice flat with exhaustion, "he could be planning something else entirely. We don't actually know what he wants."
She's right. And that uncertainty gnaws at me. Yasar spent fifty years training with my father in the demon realm. The binding between him and Nesilhan was designed to grow stronger over time, to create feelings where none existed. But to what end? What was the ultimate goal?
"We can't chase shadows we can't see," Emir says pragmatically. "Not while there's a war at our doorstep. Yasar will surface eventually—he's too ambitious to disappear permanently."
"Agreed." I force myself to table the Yasar problem, even though every instinct screams that leaving him unaccounted for is dangerous. "One monster at a time. Taren first. Then we deal with my father and whatever game he's playing."
Elçin clears her throat. "Speaking of complications—there's something you should know. About the mortal territories along the Northern Reaches."
I turn my attention to her. "Go on."
"There's been a change of power. A new ruler who calls himself the Ironhand has been consolidating control over the border settlements." She pauses, her storm-gray eyes meeting mine. "My family's village is in his territory now. After this battle, after we've dealt with the immediate threat, I'll need to go back. Extract anyone who wants to leave before the situation worsens."
"The mortal lands can wait," Nesilhan says, and there's a finality in her voice that brooks no argument. "We focus on my father first. Everything else comes after."
