"He hurt her," I said. "Deliberately. Carefully. The kind of careful that means he's done it before and knows exactly what he's doing." I set the glass down. "Broke her fingers. Caged her head. Made her stand there for hours while I was unconscious and couldn't—" I stopped. "And when it was over I asked him to wipe it from her memory. Because she's carried enough. She doesn't need that too."
Milan said nothing for a moment. His wine sat untouched.
"She thinks the portal scattered us," I said. "That we ended up in the human realms. She's home, she's confused about her hand, and I'm the only one who remembers what he did to her." I looked at him. "That's what he wanted. Me carrying it alone."
"And what did he threaten?" Milan asked quietly.
"Everything." The word came out hollow. "He showed me glimpses—what he could do to her mind if I refused him. Trap her consciousness in eternal darkness while her body keptbreathing. Make me watch while he shredded her memories piece by piece." I ran a hand through my hair. "He let me go. Told me to settle my affairs here and then return to serve him. Gave me time to... comply."
"Does he know about Ada?"
"No." The word came out sharp, certain. "I protected her. Built walls around every thought of her, every memory. He knows I'm protecting someone—he could taste that much—but he doesn't know who. Doesn't know her name, her face, what she means to me."
Milan's expression shifted, something complicated moving behind his eyes. "That's why you came back. Not because Erlik let you go—because you needed to protect her."
"I need to protect both of them." I turned to face him fully. "Ada and my mother. Erlik thinks I'm here to settle affairs before returning to serve him. He doesn't know I have no intention of letting him anywhere near the people I love."
"And how exactly do you plan to stop a god?"
The question hung between us, heavy with implications.
"I don't know yet." The admission cost me something. "I'm looking for a way—some loophole, some weakness. Something that will let me keep them safe without becoming my father's puppet." I met his eyes. "But if it comes down to it... if there's no other choice... I'll sacrifice myself before I let him touch either of them."
Milan set down his wine glass. "You'd give yourself to Erlik? Let him have you completely?"
"If that's what it takes to keep Ada and my mother safe? Yes." The words tasted like ash, but I meant every one. "He wants an heir. Wants me to serve him, learn from him, eventually rule beside him. If I go willingly—if I give him what he wants—maybe that's enough. Maybe he leaves them alone."
"Or maybe he uses them against you forever, knowing they're your weakness."
"Then I'll make sure they can't be used." My shadows coiled around my fingers, responding to the dark turn of my thoughts. "I'll end things with Ada so completely she never comes looking for me. I'll make my mother forget I ever existed. I'll burn every bridge, destroy every connection, until there's nothing left for him to threaten."
Milan was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was careful. "You love her that much? Ada?"
"More than I've ever loved anything." The confession came easier than I expected. "More than my own life. More than my freedom. If destroying myself is the only way to keep her safe, I'll do it without hesitation."
Something flickered across Milan's face—there and gone before I could identify it. "Then we find another way. One that doesn't end with you martyring yourself."
"We?"
"I've been protecting your family for two hundred years, Hakan. I'm not stopping now." He clasped my shoulder. "I'll help. Watch over Ada when you can't. Gather information. Look for weaknesses we can exploit." His grip tightened. "You're not alone in this."
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust that there was someone else who understood what was at stake.
"Thank you." The words felt inadequate, but they were all I had.
"Don't thank me yet." Milan released my shoulder. "We haven't saved anyone. We've just agreed to try."
I returned to my chambers to find Ada cross-legged on the bed, picking at the meze spread. She looked up when I entered, and the simple domesticity of it—her in my robe, eating my food, waiting for me—made something in my chest ache.
"Everything alright?" she asked.
"Fine." I crossed to the bed and kissed her until neither of us could breathe. "Just checking in about my mother."
"How is she?"
"Adjusting." Another lie. "She's been through a lot."
Ada studied my face with those amber eyes that saw too much. But she didn't push—just pulled me down beside her and curled into my side.
