I'd said I loved him. Out loud. In front of people. And the world hadn't ended.
His mother had wept and warned me. Milan had smiled and said nothing. Hakan had gone still as stone and then kissed me like I'd handed him something he'd been starving for.
*Please don't let them take his heart.*
I didn't know who *them* was. Didn't know what Elif had spent two centuries running from. Didn't know why the apartment had no mirrors or why a woman that beautiful flinched at her own reflection.
But I knew what I'd promised. And I knew what I'd felt in that tiny kitchen — not just love, but certainty. The bone-deep, immovable kind that doesn't flinch when a frightened mother asks you to justify yourself.
Melo was waiting on my windowsill when I turned from the mirror.
She sat perfectly still, turquoise eyes fixed on me with the same ancient intelligence she’d carried since I was a child.
Tonight she looked at me the way Elif had looked at me. With fear. With something that might have been grief for things that hadn’t happened yet.
“I know,” I said softly. “I know something’s coming. Everyone seems to know except us.”
The fox held my gaze for a long moment. Then she turned and vanished over the ledge, a flash of russet against the dark.
CHAPTER 11
GOLDEN DAYS
Hakan
The Golden Throne Hall was designed to make men feel small.
Pillars of white marble soared toward a ceiling lost in brilliance, every surface carved with scenes of light triumphing over darkness. The air itself seemed to glow, thick with divine magic that pressed against my skin like a warning. Courtiers lined the walls in their finest silks, their whispers cutting off the moment I entered.
They thought I was walking to my death. I could see it in their faces—the barely concealed smirks, the way they positioned themselves for the best view of my humiliation. A nobody apprentice, daring to ask the Light God for his daughter's hand. They'd be telling this story for decades.
Good. I'd give them something worth remembering.
I kept my spine straight and my stride unhurried as I approached the throne.
The Light God was everything the stories promised and nothing like I'd expected. Tall, broad-shouldered, with golden hair that fell past his shoulders and a close-trimmed beard that framed a face too symmetrical to be human. His skin seemed lit from within, a warm bronze glow that pulsed faintly with each breath. His eyes were the worst part—molten gold, ancient and knowing, the kind of eyes that had watched empires rise and fall and found both equally amusing.
He wore robes that seemed woven from captured dawn, white and gold threads that shifted and shimmered with their own light. His hands, resting on the arms of his throne, were adorned with rings older than most bloodlines. Power radiated from him in waves that made my teeth ache, pressed against my skin like a physical weight.
And he was smiling at me like we were old friends.
"Hakan." His voice filled the hall without rising above a conversational tone. "I wondered when you'd find the courage to come."
The words hit wrong. Not surprised to see me. Not curious about my purpose. He'd been waiting.
"My lord." I stopped at the prescribed distance and executed the bow I'd practiced a hundred times. Not too deep—I wasn't groveling. Not too shallow—I wasn't a fool. "I thank you for granting me this audience."
"You've been courting my daughter for three months." He gestured lazily, and a servant appeared with wine. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"
My shadows stirred beneath my skin, responding to the spike of alarm I couldn't quite suppress. He knew. Of course he knew.This was his realm, his palace, his light that touched everything within these walls. We'd been idiots to think we could hide.
"I intended no disrespect?—"
"Sit." He indicated a chair that hadn't been there a moment ago, positioned close enough that we might have been sharing a private meal. "I'm not angry, boy. I'm curious."
I sat, because refusing the Light God's invitation wasn't an option, and accepted the wine I had no intention of drinking. The chair was comfortable. That felt like a trap.
"Tell me about yourself," the Light God said, swirling his own goblet. "Lord Kaya speaks highly of your talents. Says you're the most promising apprentice he's had in centuries."
