Chapter Eighteen
Shattered Walls
Nesilhan
HIS PERSONAL LIbrARY is smaller than I expected—intimate, with a fire crackling in the ornate hearth and towering bookshelves lining the dark wood-paneled walls.
Ancient tomes bound in leather and metal crowd the shelves, their spines glinting with arcane symbols that seem to shift in the firelight.
He moves to stand before the flames, their dancing light casting his chiseled features in stark relief, highlighting the predatory grace that never fully leaves him.
I drink in the sight of him—the way his dark hair falls across his forehead, the sharp line of his jaw, the broad shoulders that fill out his black shirt with devastating effect.
My heart pounds erratically, desire and defiance warring within me as I finally acknowledge what I've been fighting since our wedding night .
"What truth would you have from me, hatun ?" he asks, his voice deceptively casual, though I can sense the tension in his shoulders through our bond.
I square my shoulders, meeting his dark gaze directly. "Who is Isil?"
His entire body goes rigid, every shadow in the room freezing mid-movement.
Through our bond, I'm hit with a wave of raw emotion—anger, guilt, and such profound despair that it makes my light magic waver and dim.
For once, he's not hiding his feelings from me, and the depth of his pain is staggering.
"Ask something else," he says, his voice rough with barely contained emotion.
"That's the truth I want." I take a step closer, drawn by his vulnerability despite myself. “You said her name when…” I can’t finish the sentence.
"No." The word falls between us like a tombstone, final and immutable. "That is one truth you will never know."
I expected resistance, but the absolute finality in his tone catches me off guard.
Through our bond, I feel him desperately trying to slam walls around that memory, but traces of his raw emotion still leak through—anger, guilt, and profound despair he can't quite contain.
Whoever Isil was, she meant everything to him.
"You promised one truth of my choosing," I say, moving closer until I can feel the heat radiating from his body. "Are your promises so easily broken?"
"There are some truths that remain mine alone," he replies, his voice dangerously soft. Shadows begin to stir around him again, responding to his agitation. "Choose another question or forfeit your claim."
A sudden, reckless idea occurs to me. "Very well," I say, myvoice dropping to match his threatening tone. "If that's how you want to play this game... "
I turn as if to leave, then pause with my hand on the ornate door handle. "But know this, you will never touch me again. Not until you honor our agreement."
His laugh is dark and rich with promise, sending shivers down my spine. "Is that so?"
He approaches with predatory grace, shadows dancing around him like living things. His demeanor becomes even more predatory, the subtle restraint he'd shown moments before evaporating completely.
"You seem to be operating under the delusion that you have a choice in the matter," he continues, stalking closer with each word.
I hold my ground despite the heat building low in my belly. I won't give in so easily this time. "I always have a choice."
"Do you?" He stops mere inches from me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.
He's so tall that he towers over me, and I can't help but admire his stunning features.
He's really a beautiful man, and I hate admitting it.
"Your mind might reject me, hatun , but your body.
.." His hand rises to hover near my cheek, not quite touching. "Your body tells a different story."
"You're mistaken," I manage, though my voice betrays me with a slight tremor. When he's this close, I can't think straight; my thoughts start to race, and my heart does somersaults in my chest.
His smile widens, predatory and knowing. "Am I?" Without warning, his shadows flick out, brushing across my collarbone with gossamer lightness. I can't suppress the shiver that runs through me at the contact, and he can sense everything. "Your pulse says otherwise."
"This proves nothing," I insist, fighting the traitorous response of my own body. Why am I attracted to a monster?
"No?" He circles me slowly, shadows trailing in his wake, and I hold my breath. "Then you won't mind if I demonstrate exactly how much power I have over you."
Before I can react, shadows wrap around my wrists, yanking my arms above my head and holding me immobile.
I struggle against the restraints, light magic flaring at my fingertips, but the shadows simply absorb it, growing stronger with each pulse of power.
His darkness feeds on my light, turning my own magic against me.
"Let me go," I demand.
"Not yet," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear, sending another shudder through me. "Not until you admit the truth that burns between us."
"What truth?" I hiss, twisting against the shadowy bonds.
His hand finally makes contact, cupping my cheek with unexpected gentleness. "That you want me as much as I want you. That this hatred between us has become something else entirely."
"Never," I whisper, though my body arches toward him of its own volition.
"Liar," he accuses softly. He traces a line from my jaw to my collarbone with one finger, leaving fire in its wake. "Your mind fights, but your body surrenders. I wonder which will win tonight?"
His shadows drag me toward the center of the room, where they shift to hold me upright against a support beam. My arms are still bound above my head, but my feet are now touching the ground. More tendrils slide across my skin, finding the closures of my gown and undoing them one by one.
"What are you doing?" I gasp as cool air hits my skin. Heat rushes through my core as his eyes move over my naked flesh. I'm burning for this man, for my captor—my husband.
"Testing a theory," he replies, circling me as his shadows continue their work.
My outer gown falls away, leaving me in just my thin silk shift, my nipples already hard, and I want his mouth on them.
Kaan smiles as if he just read my mind. "I believe that, given the right circumstances, you'll beg for my touch. "
"I would rather die," I respond, but the conviction in my voice wavers as a shadow tendril brushes across my nipple, drawing it to a tight peak through the silk.
"So dramatic," he chuckles. "Death is so permanent. Pleasure, on the other hand..." His eyes darken as he watches my body respond to his shadow’s caress, that arrogant, smug smile never leaving his expression. "Pleasure can be infinite when properly administered."
From a nearby table, he retrieves a strip of black silk. "Do you know what this is for, Nesilhan?"
I swallow hard, my heart racing with anticipation. "You're going to blindfold me."
"I am indeed." He moves behind me, draping the silk across my eyes. "Without sight, your other senses will heighten. Every touch, every sound, every sensation magnified beyond measure."
The loss of vision is disorienting. I can sense his movement around me, but can no longer anticipate his actions. It makes me vulnerable in a way that both terrifies and thrills me. This is madness. I shouldn't like this, I shouldn't want this, but I'm ready to beg him to touch me.
"I don't…" I begin, but the words die in my throat as I feel his breath on my neck, followed by the lightest brush of his lips on the thin fabric that covers my right nipple.
"Don't what?" he prompts, his voice a dark whisper and a promise. I'm already slick between my legs, and I want his mouth on me. "Don't want this? Don't need this? We both know that's a lie."
His hand slides into my hair, then he fists it and pulls painfully hard. Now, not only is my whole bodyon fire, but my scalp is too. "I can feel your desire through our bond, hatun . It burns as brightly as mine."
I try to deny it, but the only sound that escapes is a soft moan as his teeth graze my pulse point. The shadows around my wrists loosen slightly, testing, but I no longer fight against them. I want to obey, so he can keep touching me .
"That's it," he murmurs against my skin. "Surrender to what we both know you crave."
His shadows tear the silk shift down the middle, leaving me completely exposed to the cool air and his hungry gaze. I should feel shame, should struggle against this invasion, but instead, I arch toward the sensation, my body betraying my mind's protests—heat pools between my thighs.
"Look at you," he breathes, his voice thick with appreciation. "So beautiful in your surrender."
The praise sends an unexpected jolt of heat through me, making me gasp. He notices immediately, a soft laugh escaping him.
"Interesting," he says. His hand cups my breast, thumb brushing across the sensitive nipple. "You like being told how perfect you are, don't you? How exquisite? How utterly magnificent?"
Each word of praise sends fresh heat pooling between my thighs, a reaction I've never experienced before. Something about the combination of physical restraint and verbal adoration breaks through my defenses in a way I couldn't have anticipated.
"No," I lie, my voice barely audible.
"No?" His hand slides lower, across my ribs, my stomach, until his fingers brush the junction of my thighs. He dips his fingers into my entrance, and I moan. "Your body disagrees, hatun . You're dripping for me. Your needy cunt needs more attention."
I bite my lip to keep from moaning as his fingers trace my clit with maddening lightness.
"I could keep you like this for hours," he continues, his voice a seductive rumble, and I pant for air as he keeps caressing my clit—over and over again. "Suspended in my shadows, blindfolded, completely at my mercy. Would you like that, my perfect little assassin? My exquisite, dangerous bride? "
The praise, combined with his touch, draws a broken sound from my throat.