Page 109 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)
LAILAH
W e stand in the heart of the forest, surrounded by the whisper of leaves and the faint rustle of creatures hidden in the underbrush.
The air is thick with suspense, the kind that makes your skin prickle and your breath hitch.
I extend my scarred hand, placing it in Casper’s firm grasp.
His hand tightens around mine, his evergreen eyes piercing me with unspoken emotions—fear, anger, love.
All of it wrapped into the way his brow knits, his jaw tightens.
I turn, my other hand outstretched toward Callum. He hesitates, the hard lines of his face set in defiance, his jaw clenched so tightly it’s a wonder it doesn’t crack. But he takes my hand, his grip warm and steady, though his touch carries an unspoken warning, a concern for my safety.
Two men I trust with my life. One who loves me enough to let me choose my fate, even if it means risking myself to save the world.
And one who would burn the entire world down for me—stopping me even if I begged to die with it.
Their opposing strengths tether me to the moment, and yet, neither truly knows the storm raging inside me.
I glance at them both, drawing in their faces as though I might never see them again. I can’t falter. Not now .
I turn to face the forest as the others join hands, forming a circle around me.
The world feels silent, breathless, as though it too is waiting to see if I will succeed or break.
Closing my eyes, I steady my breathing and call forth the memory of the underground library.
Every detail comes to life as I dig deeper into the fragments of my past.
The library’s warmth floods my memory, a stark contrast to the cold I now feel in my soul.
I see myself as a child, crouched between towering shelves, hiding from the world with Jason by my side.
The echoes of our laughter ring faintly in my mind, weaving through the silence.
My first kiss—his lips brushing mine, awkward and unsure—pulls at something deep within me.
It wasn’t the kiss itself that mattered; it was the fleeting moment of belonging, of being seen, of feeling normal.
A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it, and I turn slightly, brushing it away with my shoulder.
The whispered secrets held within the dusty pages of the library come back to me, the countless nights I spent there, curled up in the corner with a book.
It was the only place where I ever felt safe, wrapped in the stories of others, my father’s expectations momentarily forgotten.
My chest tightens as I think of those nights and the overwhelming solitude they often brought.
I didn’t realize how lonely I was back then, not truly.
The books kept me company, but they couldn’t erase the emptiness that crept in when the castle halls grew too quiet.
Tears blur my vision as I focus harder, clinging to the images like a lifeline.
My hands tremble slightly as I remember stumbling upon a story of a witch who sealed a world away to protect it—a tale I treasured, believing that someone could understand what it meant to carry such a burden.
It’s too much, the emotions pooling in my chest until it feels like they might spill over entirely.
I blink rapidly, trying to steady myself, but it doesn’t work.
The air around us begins to shift, cold and biting as it wraps around my skin.
My magic stirs at the edges of my consciousness, an insistent hum that vibrates through my entire being.
It’s like a living thing, clawing to be released, testing the fragile boundary of my control.
I’ve never attempted anything like this before.
A portal that stretches hundreds of miles, cutting through the fabric of distance itself—it feels impossible.
And yet, I have to try. I must try. The future depends on it.
I close my eyes, drawing on every ounce of strength I possess.
Images flicker and blur, tangled fragments of the person I was and the person I’ve become.
I see the skies turning ink-black beneath my magic, an unrelenting storm conjured by my fear of losing everything.
I feel the pulse of Callum’s heart beneath my palms as I willed it back to life, terrified that I might fail and lose him forever.
And then, Casper—his touch, his steady presence, the way loving him has stripped me bare, leaving me exposed and vulnerable in ways I never thought possible.
I am no longer the girl I once was. That girl was fragile, hidden behind walls of fear and uncertainty.
But now, I’ve unraveled parts of myself I didn’t know existed.
I am stronger. I am more. Tears burn at the corners of my eyes as I cling tighter to those memories, to the lives they represent.
My heart clenches painfully. I can’t lose them. I can’t lose any of them.
The chill creeps into my fingertips, a biting cold that crawls up my arms and settles deep into my bones.
Callum’s hand tightens around mine as though he can feel the strain I’m under.
I open my eyes to meet his, the silent promise of his loyalty etched into his expression.
Beside me, Casper’s eyes pierce through me, filled with an ache so profound it mirrors my own.
I think of the dagger he returned to me in the woods, the way his voice softened as I pressed it to his throat.
I think of how, in that moment, I wanted to kiss him more than anything else in the world.
The memories pour into me, raw and overwhelming. The cold deepens, tightening around my ribs. A sob escapes before I can stop it, my emotions threatening to pull me under. My vision blurs, tears streaking down my face as the enormity of what I’m attempting—what I’m risking—sinks in.
The library.
I focus on it, on the place that once felt like my sanctuary.
I remember hiding with Jason, our whispered laughter echoing among the towering shelves.
I remember the warmth of the firelight on my skin, the comfort of the stories I buried myself in, the way those walls held a safety I never found anywhere else.
It wasn’t just a place—it was hope . My last connection to something innocent, untouched by the darkness of my father’s ambitions.
The portal stabilizes, a shimmering doorway of light that pulses with unsteady energy. My body trembles, every muscle strained, every nerve stretched thin.
“You’re almost there,” I whisper to myself.
And then, with one last surge of power, the portal bursts open fully.
The underground library stretches before me, the faint scent of parchment and dust wrapping around me like a balm.
My magic is draining fast, the cold settling deeper into my bones, but I take one step forward.
Then another. The portal closes behind me, the last tendrils of my magic dissipating with it.
For a moment, I stand frozen as I fight to catch my breath. The effort of supporting the portal is close to breaking me. My legs tremble beneath me, and before I can stop it, my knees buckle. I stumble forward, catching myself on the edge of a nearby desk, the wood cool and solid beneath my palms.
The air is different here—heavy, cold, and silent.
I exhale, and my breath clouds in front of me, pale and fleeting.
A chill seeps into my bones, slow and relentless, until it wraps around my lungs like a vise.
I press a hand to my heart, feeling the ice spread with every breath I take.
My fingertips burn with the numbness of overused magic, and my shoulders shiver despite the still air around me.
It feels like my very essence has been wrung out, leaving nothing but an aching emptiness behind.
But I made it.
A small, shaky smile pulls at my lips as I glance around the room, relief washing over me like a wave.
The familiar scent of aged parchment and ink greets me, mingling with the faint mustiness of stone walls untouched by the sun.
It’s just as I remember it—the towering shelves, the dim light that once made this space feel infinite. I’m here. I actually made it .
I close my eyes, letting the reality of my success sink in. My chest tightens, not just from the cold, but from the overwhelming emotions. Callum’s steady grip, and Casper’s piercing gaze—I made it because of them. The thought keeps me grounded, even as my body feels like it’s falling apart.
My fingers curl around the desk for support as I try to stand fully upright.
My knees protest, weak and unsteady, but I force myself to take one step.
Then another, my boots echoing softly against the cold stone floor.
I wave my hand with what little magic I have left, and the candles flicker to life, their soft glow illuminating the towering shelves.
Shadows dance across the ancient tomes, and the library feels alive, as though it’s waiting for me to find what I came for.
Another breath escapes me, visible in the icy air.
My lungs feel like they’re coated in frost, each inhale a painful reminder of how much I’ve pushed myself.
I wrap my arms around my torso, trying to shake off the cold that’s embedded itself deep within.
My vision swims briefly, but I grit my teeth and press forward.
This place holds answers—I can feel it. Somewhere among these shelves is the book Malachi described.
The bleeding tree, its roots stained crimson.
It’s here. It has to be . Even as my legs threaten to give out again, I press on, dragging myself deeper into the library’s embrace.
A place that once felt safe and warm now feels like a ghost of what it used to be.
All that remains is purpose. I have to find the book. I will find it.