Chapter 17
The Truth
K aan
The dream shatters around me like glass meeting stone, her confession echoing in the void where my control used to live. I kissed Sinan . The words replay with the persistence of a particularly vindictive echo, each repetition driving deeper into whatever passes for my sanity these days.
I materialize in my command tent with enough violent force to send camp furniture flying.My shadows explode outward in torrents of pure violence, transforming the interior into a writhing mass of darkness and rage. The very air grows thick with malevolent intent.
The shadow poison in my veins responds to my fury, spreading like liquid fire through my system. My vision blurs at the edges, darkness creeping in as the poison feeds on my rage. Each heartbeat sends another wave of toxic magic through my body, and I can taste copper and ash on my tongue.
"Fucking perfect," I snarl to the empty canvas walls, my voice carrying enough venom to kill small animals at considerable distance.
"She kisses the pathetic little hero while I'm slowly dying of shadow poisoning.
How absolutely romantic. Perhaps next she'll let him hold her hand while planning their fucking wedding. "
The image of Sinan's mouth on hers flashes through my mind again, and something inside me snaps. My fist connects with the tent pole, the wood splintering under the force. Blood wells from my knuckles, but the physical pain is nothing compared to the acid eating away at my chest.
I pace the confines of the tent with violent restlessness, a creature who's just discovered his favorite meal has been seasoned with betrayal and served to someone else.
My shadows writhe around my feet in fury, occasionally lashing out to destroy whatever's within reach.
A chair becomes kindling. My campaign table splits down the middle with a sound like breaking bones.
The poison surges again, and I double over, pressing my palm against my ribs where it feels like molten metal is being poured directly into my bones.
This is what happens when I let emotion take control—the darkness feeds on it, grows stronger, more virulent.
But I can't stop. The thought of that bastard's hands on my wife, his lips tasting what belongs to me, makes the poison sing with deadly pleasure.
"Mine," I growl to the empty tent, the word torn from somewhere primal and possessive. "She's fucking mine."
The logical part of my mind—what's left of it—whispers that she doesn't remember me, that she's trying to understand her feelings in the only way she knows how. But logic has never been my forte, especially when it comes to the woman who owns what remains of my soul.
Another wave of poison crashes through me, and I have to grip the broken table edge to stay upright.
The darkness whispers sweet promises of violence, showing me exactly how I could make Sinan pay.
How satisfying it would be to watch the light leave his eyes while my shadows slowly choke the life from him.
The tent flap rustles, and Emir's familiar presence cuts through my murderous haze. "The entire camp is awake," he states matter-of-factly, surveying the destruction with practiced indifference. "Your shadows are bleeding into the night sky. Half the men think we're under attack."
I straighten slowly, wiping blood from my split knuckles on my thigh. "Good. Let them think death is coming. Because it fucking is."
"She kissed him," I add quickly, the words tasting like ash. "My wife, the mother of my child, pressed her lips to another man's mouth while I sit here slowly rotting from the inside out."
The admission makes the poison flare again, hot and vicious. I can feel it spreading through my chest, wrapping around my heart like barbed wire. Each breath is agony, but I welcome it. Pain is better than the hollow emptiness that threatens to consume me when I'm not feeling anything at all.
Emir processes this information with the practiced calm of someone who's spent centuries managing my various emotional catastrophes. "I see. And what do you plan to do about it?"
"Kill him, obviously," I reply with the casual tone of someone discussing dinner plans. The poison purrs its approval, showing me images of Sinan's broken body. "Slowly. Creatively. With enough style to ensure no other pathetic hero gets ideas about touching what belongs to me."
"My lord?—"
But I'm already moving, shadows coiling around me as I stride toward the tent entrance.
The darkness in my system responds to my fury, spreading outward like spilled ink until even the stars seem dimmer.
Night deepens around our camp with unnatural speed, as if the very universe is accommodating my homicidal mood.
The poison makes each step feel like walking through molten glass, but I push through it. Let it tear me apart from the inside. As long as I can still move, still fight, still reclaim what's mine, the pain is irrelevant.
"Kaan, wait—" Emir calls, but I'm already dissolving into shadow, racing toward the village with murder singing sweetly in my veins.
The cottage materializes around me, my magic tearing through protective wards like paper. The poison screams through my system at the exertion, but I ignore it. Nothing matters except the woman before me.
Nesilhan jolts awake in her rocking chair, her eyes wide with alarm as she takes in my presence—all six feet of barely contained violence standing in her moonlit room. The scent of her light magic hits me immediately, pure and clean, making the poison in my blood writhe in response.
"Say it again," I command, my voice deadly soft in the darkness.
She sits up slowly, one hand pressed to her belly in that protective gesture that makes my chest ache despite the fury consuming me. Even pregnant with my child, she instinctively knows I'm dangerous right now. Good. She should be afraid.
"Kaan—"
"Say. It. Again." Each word drops into the silence like stones into still water. The shadows around me pulse with each syllable, reaching toward her with hungry tendrils. "Tell me exactly what you did with that pathetic excuse for a man while I was slowly dying in the shadows."
Her throat works as she swallows hard, and I can see her pulse hammering against the delicate skin of her neck. The primal part of me wants to bite down right there, mark her so thoroughly that no other man would ever dare touch her again.
"I kissed Sinan," she whispers, and the admission hits me like a sledgehammer. "This afternoon. After I spoke with my brother."
The poison surges so violently I taste blood on my tongue. My vision goes dark at the edges, and I have to press my palm against the wall to stay upright. The cottage walls groan under the weight of my shadows as they spread outward, consuming every corner of the small room.
"And I suppose you thought I wouldn't find out?
" I ask pleasantly, taking a step closer to her.
The shadows around me writhe with hunger, reaching toward her with dark tendrils.
My voice might be calm, but my magic tells a different story—violent, possessive, barely leashed. "Or perhaps you simply didn't care?"
She flinches back in the chair, her light magic flickering defensively around her. The golden glow makes my shadows hiss and retreat slightly, but they don't disappear. They circle us like predators, waiting for the moment I lose control completely.
"I thought you were going to kill him," she says quickly, fear and concern warring in her expression.
"I was," I agree with dark satisfaction, moving another step closer until I'm looming over her chair.
The poison makes every movement feel as if pieces of glass are grinding in my joints, but I welcome the pain.
It feeds my rage, sharpens my focus. "Still might, actually.
The night is young, and I do so enjoy creative violence under starlight. "
Her breath catches, and I can smell her fear now—sharp and sweet, mixing with the warm scent of her skin. It should repel me. Instead, it makes the darkness in my blood sing with approval.
"Kaan, please?—"
"Why?" The word cracks like a whip, and the windows rattle in their frames. "Why did you kiss him, zevciyem ? What could that pathetic little hero possibly offer that your husband cannot?"
She flinches at the endearment spoken with such bitter possession, and I see tears gathering in her golden eyes. Part of me—the part that still remembers how to love her—wants to comfort her. But the poison has its claws in me now, showing me images of her mouth on his, and all I can feel is rage.
"My brother... he told me things. About how I married you to save his life, about the choice you gave me. He said I'd be better off with someone human, someone who doesn't radiate darkness and death."
My shadows pulse with violence, and I have to grip the arm of her chair to keep from reaching for her throat. The wood splinters under my fingers. "And so you decided to test his theory by pressing your mouth to another man's lips?"
"I needed to know," she says desperately, her light magic flaring brighter as my darkness presses closer. The opposing forces make the air between us crackle with tension. "I needed to understand if I could feel something for someone else, someone safer?—"
"Did you?" The question emerges rougher than intended, carrying all the desperate vulnerability I'm trying to hide. The poison whispers that I already know the answer, that she's lost to me forever, but I need to hear it from her lips. "Did you feel something for him?"
She meets my eyes directly, and the honesty there nearly destroys me. "No. Nothing. It was... pleasant, but empty. Like kissing a stranger."