Chapter 15 #3
"Kaan," I murmur, my voice utterly wrecked. "That was..."
"Exquisite," he purrs, voice whisky-rough. "Though I think you can give me at least one more, hm?"
Before I can gather the wits to reply, he buries his face between my thighs once more and I'm lost...
A throat clears behind us.
I jerk upright, yanking my dress down, heart thundering.
A young servant stands in the doorway, holding the tray of desserts like a shield. His face is the color of milk.
"I—ah—the dessert, Lady Neslihan—"
Kaan wipes his mouth with his thumb, glances at the servant, and says smoothly, "I was already enjoying my dessert."
The poor boy flees as if he's been chased by demons.
I cover my face with both hands. "You are impossible."
He leans back in his chair, completely unrepentant. "And you taste better than any dessert anyway."
I'm about to respond—something witty, something cutting, something to hide how shaky my legs still feel—when the air shifts. A presence. A pull.
The door opens again. Yasar steps inside.
"Well, isn't this cozy," he drawls, a knowing smirk playing about his lips. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
He's wearing a fitted black coat embroidered with silver thread, dark trousers, boots polished to a shine. His hair is tied back, jaw clean-shaven, face freshly healed—the opposite of how he left Kaan after their fight.
He takes one look at me, then at Kaan, and his nostrils flare.
"I was drawn here," he says, voice low. "Your emotions were... loud."
Mortifying heat floods my cheeks. He means the sex. He felt it. He felt me.
I grip the table, willing my body not to react. Not to tremble. Not to lean toward him when something in the bond tugs—sharp and wrong and pulling at the edges of my control.
Kaan notices instantly. His entire body tightens.
Yasar steps closer, eyes locked on me. "Your feelings were… overwhelming."
Kaan stands.
The air crackles—pressure building, tension coiling, two storms preparing to collide.
Yasar smirks. "Touched a nerve?"
Kaan moves first. But this time, there's no explosive lunge. No reckless rage.
He strides forward, grabbing Yasar by the coat and shoving him backward with controlled moves. Yasar pivots and blocks, sending Kaan stumbling only a step before Kaan recovers and twists, landing a heavy strike to Yasar's ribs.
Yasar grunts, retaliating with a sweeping kick that knocks a chair over. They circle each other—measured, deliberate, furious but focused. Their movements are fluid, powerful, almost frighteningly in sync, like two predators trained on each other since birth.
Kaan lands a punch to Yasar's jaw. Yasar counters with a knee to Kaan's stomach. Kaan slams Yasar against the wall. Yasar shoves him off and tackles him toward the table.
Candles flicker. Wine spills. The entire room vibrates with the impact of their blows.
Then—
"ENOUGH!"
Elcin bursts in like a lightning strike, wedging herself between them with both palms out.
Both men halt—breathing hard, eyes burning.
And then, as if she's been waiting for this moment, Elcin turns and delivers a brutal right hook straight to Yasar's face.
He staggers back, surprised.
"That's for knocking me out," she snaps, "when you wanted to talk to Neslihan. Touch me again without warning, and you will regret it."
Yasar wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth and smiles—slow and wicked.
"Having your hands on me in any form," he murmurs, "is welcomed."
Elcin goes for him again.
He laughs, delighted but sidesteps her next blow.
Elcin goes for Yasar again, but before her fist can connect, the door bursts open and Emir strides in.
Everyone freezes. Emir's usually calm demeanor is gone, replaced by a tense urgency that immediately sets me on edge. His gaze darts from Elcin to Yasar, then Kaan, before finally settling on Kaan with grim intent.
"We need you," he says without preamble. "Now."
Kaan straightens, all traces of languid amusement vanishing. For Emir to seek him out directly, interrupting whatever this is... it must be dire.
"What's happened?" Kaan demands, already moving towards Emir.
"An attack on the southern border. Raiders wearing Shadow Realm colors." Emir's jaw tightens. "They have hostages."
Kaan swears viciously under his breath. He turns to me, apology and frustration warring in his eyes. "Neslihan, I—"
"Go," I urge, even as my heart clenches. "They need you."
He nods curtly, then surprises me by cupping my face and pressing a hard, swift kiss to my lips. "We will definitely do this again," he murmurs, a fierce promise. Then he turns to Yasar, eyes hardening. "Make yourself useful and come with me."
Yasar arches a brow, but for once doesn't argue. He sketches a mocking bow. "As my cousin dearest, commands."
Kaan looks like he dearly wants to punch him again, but settles for a warning glare before turning on his heel and striding out, Yasar and Emir close behind.
And just like that, they're gone, the room echoing with sudden silence. Elcin and I exchange a long, weighted look, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
"Well," she says at last, her voice grim. "Sounds like dinner went well."