Three days since Kaan returned from battle, since that war council where Yasar and I performed our elaborate dance of avoidance. Three days of the binding growing stronger, threading itself deeper into my bones until I can feel him breathing two wings away.
Three days of lying to my husband about what happened while he was gone.
The secret burns like acid in my throat, corroding me from within. Every time Kaan looks at me with those dark eyes full of suspicion and barely leashed violence, every time he asks if I'm alright, the words claw at my tongue, desperate for release.
But how do you tell the man who already lost everything that his father has turned you into a weapon against him?
I'm pacing our chambers at midnight, unable to sleep, when the door opens. Kaan enters like a storm given form, shadows pouring off him in waves.
"We're going to talk," he announces, and there's something in his voice—not his usual possessive fury, but something rawer. Fear. "Now."
"There's nothing to?—"
"Don't." The word cracks like a whip. "Don't lie to me, Nesilhan. Not about this. I know something happened with Yasar. I can feel your terror every time he enters a room. The way you both pretend the other doesn't exist while the air between you practically screams."
My hands shake as I turn to face him. The binding pulses, reminding me that Yasar is in the eastern wing, close enough that my traitorous magic reaches for him even now.
"You wouldn't understand."
"Try me." He moves closer, and I see it then—beneath the anger, beneath the jealousy that's been eating him alive, there's genuine concern. "Whatever he did, whatever he threatened, I need to know. I can't protect you if?—"
"Protect me?" The laugh that escapes is broken glass. "You can't even protect me from yourself, Kaan. How could you protect me from this?"
His expression shifts, shadows stilling. "From what?"
The words hover on my lips. Three days of secrets, three days of carrying this alone, and suddenly I can't anymore. The weight of it is crushing me.
"The cleansing ritual," I whisper. "When your father performed it, when he supposedly purified our bond... he did something else. Wove something into my soul."
Kaan goes absolutely still. The kind of stillness that precedes catastrophe.
"What did he do?"
"A binding." The confession tears from me like ripping flesh. "To Yasar. Your father bound me to your cousin during thatritual, and I didn't even know until—" My voice breaks. "Until Yasar told me."
The moment Kaan's shadows explode outward, I know I've made a terrible mistake telling him everything.
Furniture disintegrates. The ornate mirror shatters into a thousand glittering shards. The bed frame splinters with a sound like breaking bones. His darkness fills every corner of our chambers until I can barely see him through the writhing mass of fury given form.
"He WHAT?" The words tear from his throat, and the windows crack under the pressure of his rage.
I press my back against the wall, but I don't cower. I'm done cowering. "He revealed the binding. Showed me what your father did during the cleansing ritual. Made me understand why I've been—" The words stick in my throat. "Why I've been drawn to him."
"I'm going to rip him apart." Kaan's voice drops to something subterranean, inhuman. His eyes have gone completely black. "I'm going to make him scream for days before I finally let him die?—"
"Kaan—there is something else."
"He kissed you." Not a question. A statement that lands like a death sentence. The shadows pulse darker, hungrier. "He put his fucking hands on you?"
"I stopped it!" The words explode from me with a burst of golden light that carves through his darkness. "I broke the kiss. But you want to know the worst part?" My voice cracks. "The worst part is that for one horrifying second, I wanted to stay. The binding made me want?—"
I can't finish. Can't admit what my traitorous body craved even as my mind screamed violation.
Kaan goes utterly still. The shadows freeze mid-writhe. When he speaks again, his voice is barely audible. "You wanted him."
"No. The binding wanted him. Your father's curse wanted him. Everything Erlik wove into my soul during that ritual wanted him." I'm shaking now, my hands fisted at my sides. "But I didn't. I don't. I ran from him, Kaan. I chose to run."
"But you're starting to crave it." His eyes meet mine, and I see my own terror reflected back. "That's why you're so frightened. Not because of what he did, but because part of you liked it."
