"Nesilhan—" Kaan starts.
"No." I hold up a hand. "Not because he deserves mercy. But because he's right—we need him. He understands this bindingbetter than anyone. And I'm not throwing away our best chance to break it just for the satisfaction of watching him die."
"Even after everything he's done?" Kaan's voice carries disbelief.
"Especially after everything he's done." I turn back to Yasar. "Because you're going to help us. You're going to tell us everything you know about Erlik's plans. Every detail. Every secret. And then you're going to help Elçin figure out how to reverse this binding. Not because I forgive you. Not because I trust you. But because it serves both our interests to break free of Erlik's control."
Yasar's expression shifts—surprise flickering across his features before settling back into that calculated mask. "Pragmatic."
"I learned from watching you," I say coldly. "You chose survival over honesty. Fine. Now you get to choose survival over loyalty to Erlik. Help us break this binding, and maybe—maybe—you walk away from this alive and free. Refuse, and I let Kaan get creative."
"Good." I turn away from him, dismissing his crisis. "Banu needs rest. We all do. Kaan, work on slowing that poison. Elçin, keep studying the binding. And Yasar?" I don't look back. "Stay where I can see you. If you try anything—anything—I will let Kaan have you. And trust me, his imagination for torture is impressive."
"Noted," Yasar says quietly.
I make my way back to Banu, who's watching me with glassy but aware eyes. "Thank you," she whispers. "For listening. I know it hurts."
"Everything hurts," I tell her, settling beside her and Elçin. "What's one more truth to add to the pile?"
She manages a weak smile.
I take her cold hand again, and this time I channel some of my light magic into her. Not much—I'm too drained for grand gestures—but enough to ease her pain. To remind her that she's not alone.
Through the binding, I feel Yasar's reaction to my magic use—hunger and guilt warring in equal measure. I ignore it. He doesn't get my attention right now. He doesn't get my pity or my rage or anything else.
He gets to sit with his choices and their consequences.
Kaan settles beside me, his presence solid and dangerous and exhausted all at once. His shadows wrap around us like a protective blanket, and despite everything between us, I lean into his strength.
"We should talk about this," he says quietly. "About the binding. About what it means."
"Later." I close my eyes, suddenly too tired to process anything else. "When Banu's safe. When we're out of immediate danger. When I have enough energy to be appropriately furious."
"That's fair." His hand finds mine, fingers intertwining. "For what it's worth, I would have chosen differently. If it were me in Yasar's position, I would have told you immediately."
I want to believe that. But trust is complicated when it's been shattered so many times.
"Would you?" I ask. "Would you really sacrifice your own survival to protect me from an uncomfortable truth?"
He's quiet for a long moment. "I don't know," he admits. "I'd like to think I would. But I'm selfish when it comes to you. I always have been."
The honesty hurts more than a lie would have. But at least it's honest.
"Get some rest," he urges. "I'll keep watch. Nothing gets through those shadows without going through me first."
I nod, too exhausted to argue. Beside me, Banu's breathing evens out into something closer to natural sleep. Elçin shifts position, still clutching her journal, still looking for answers in notes and theory.
And across the cave, Yasar sits alone with his eyes reflecting firelight and his hunger still waiting, patient as death.
The binding pulses between us—weaker now that I know what it is, but still present. Still feeding. Still slowly devouring what makes me powerful.
CHAPTER 22
THE PERI'S BARGAIN
Kaan
Five souls huddlein ancient stone, waiting for death to find us. Or more accurately—waiting for death to finish what it started in the Veil.
