The main hall stands empty, the enormous black chandeliers holding only a few lit shadow-orbs. In full court, this space would buzz with whispers and politics, the air thick with schemes and secrets. Now it's just vast emptiness, the absence of life more noticeable than any presence.
I pass the eastern gallery, where portrait eyes seem to follow my progress. The usual pair of guards that stand at the entrance to the residential wing are missing—reassigned to the borders, no doubt, or to whatever security plan Yasar has implementedin Kaan's absence. The thought of Yasar makes my skin prickle, that strange magnetism tugging at me even when he's nowhere near.
The silence is oppressive. No footsteps of servants, no distant conversations, no rustling of fabric as courtiers bow in deference. Just the whisper of my own breathing and the soft pad of my feet against stone. I've never seen the palace this deserted, not even in the dead of winter when half the court retreats to warmer estates.
Elçin's chambers are at the end of the east wing, close enough to mine to be summoned quickly, far enough to maintain the illusion of privacy. The door is slightly ajar—another anomaly. Elçin is fanatical about security, especially since the assassination attempts began.
"Elçin?" I push the door open wider, peering into the darkened room. "Are you?—"
The words die in my throat. Elçin lies sprawled across her bed, still fully dressed in her Guard Captain uniform, her short silver hair fanned out against the dark pillows. She's breathing—I can see the slow rise and fall of her chest—but there's something unnatural about her stillness. Elçin is a light sleeper, trained to wake at the slightest disturbance. My entrance should have her on her feet with a blade in hand.
Instead, she doesn't stir.
I approach cautiously, noting the way her limbs are arranged—not the casual sprawl of someone who collapsed from exhaustion, but the careful positioning of a body deliberately placed. Her face, usually sharp with alertness even in repose, is slack, almost peaceful, but with an uncanny emptiness that makes my stomach clench.
I reach for the blanket folded at the foot of her bed, the simple kindness feeling inadequate against whatever has happened here. As I drape it over her still form, I notice hereyelids fluttering rapidly, as if caught in a dream she can't escape. Sweat beads along her hairline despite the cool air.
This isn't natural sleep. This is something else entirely.
"She will only sleep for a short time."
The voice slides through the air like silk over steel, and I whirl to face it, my hand reaching instinctively for a weapon I'm not carrying.
Before I can react, before I can even process his words, his shadows explode outward. Not to attack—to contain. They form a perfect circle around us, a barrier that hums with power I've never encountered before. Shadow mixed with something else, something that makes my weakened light magic recoil in recognition.
"What are you doing?" I try to summon my light, but it gutters like a candle in a hurricane.
"What I came to do," Yasar says, stepping fully into Elçin's chambers and closing the door behind him with a soft click. "What Uncle Erlik sent me to accomplish." He approaches slowly, and that pull—gods, that pull—yanks me toward him so hard I have to grip the bedpost to keep from stumbling forward. "Did you really think my arrival was a coincidence? That I just happened to appear days after war was declared?"
"You're working with Erlik." It's not a question.
"Working with him?" Yasar laughs, and it's not cruel, just tired. "I'm his solution to the problem of you and my cousin. Though I prefer to think of it as... an opportunity."
I back away, needing distance, but my legs feel weak—days of exhaustion and grief taking their toll. My hand finds the knife I keep hidden in my boot, though we both know it's a useless gesture. "Kaan will kill you for this."
"Kaan is miles away at the eastern fortifications, about to engage three battalions of Light Court warriors. By the time he realizes what's happening, it will be far too late." Yasar movescloser, and my traitorous body sways toward him. "But I'm not going to hurt you, Nesilhan. Quite the opposite."
"Then what—" My back hits the wall of Elçin's chambers, nowhere left to retreat.
"The binding," he says simply. "The one dear Uncle wove into your soul during that cleansing ritual. The one that's been pulling you toward me since the moment we met." His eyes glow brighter in the dim chamber, and suddenly his shadows are shot through with veins of fire—impossible, beautiful, terrifying. "It's time you understood what it really is."
The pull intensifies until I can barely breathe. Every cell in my body screams to close the distance between us, to press myself against him, to let his darkness consume my fading light. I dig my nails into my palms hard enough to draw blood, using pain to anchor myself.
And then I notice it—the bond to Kaan, that constant awareness of him that's been with me for months, goes suddenly, terrifyingly silent. Whatever Yasar is doing doesn't just affect this room. It blinds Kaan to my presence entirely.
I'm truly alone, in an empty palace with only Elçin's unconscious form as witness.
"Erlik bound us together," Yasar continues, circling me now like a predator who's already won, his footsteps silent on the stone floor. "Not a full soul-bond—that would be too obvious. Just enough connection to create... attraction. Need. A magnetic pull that grows stronger when we're alone." His shadows brush against my skin, and pleasure shoots through me so intensely I gasp. "Your light magic recognizes me as its complement. Your body responds to mine because it's been programmed to."
"No." The word comes out broken, echoing off the chamber walls. "That's not—I don't?—"
"You do, though." He stops in front of me, close enough that I can feel his breath on my face, see the perfect symmetry of hisfeatures in the half-light. "You feel it right now, don't you? The desire to surrender. To stop fighting. To let me take care of you the way Kaan never could."
The worst part is he's right. My body thrums with need that isn't mine, desire manufactured by whatever Erlik wove into my soul. The urge to lean into Yasar, to accept his comfort, his protection, is overwhelming—especially here, in this quiet room with its sleeping guardian, the last facade of safety stripped away.
"Why?" I manage to ask through gritted teeth. "Why would Erlik do this?"
"Because Kaan is weak when it comes to you. Because a divided Shadow Court serves Erlik's purposes. Because chaos is coming, and Uncle wants pieces in place for whatever game he's playing." Yasar reaches out, his fingers hovering an inch from my face. "But mostly? Because he wanted to give me what I've always deserved—a chance to prove I'm better than my cousin."
