Page 19 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)
LAILAH
M y father is a kind-hearted man, though the world often mistakes his generosity for selfishness.
Whenever I’ve asked for something, he’s given it without hesitation.
Yet, I know better than to ask without purpose; his kindness is bound tightly to his need to protect me, and the boundaries of that protection are unyielding.
It is a delicate balance I’ve always respected, though not without questions of my own.
The halls are quiet as I make my way back to my room, the only sound the soft echo of my footsteps on stone.
Then, faintly, I hear it—a whispered moan, barely audible, drifting from the direction of the staircase.
It’s not uncommon for vampires to indulge in secret moments of passion, their voices blending with the castle’s stillness, lost in its vast and cavernous spaces.
Yet this sound comes from a hidden staircase, one known only to those who’ve been shown its secret.
I pause, the sound pricking at my curiosity.
Glancing around the dimly lit corridor, I confirm I am alone.
Utterly alone. A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips.
Magic has never been forbidden to me, not in this castle where its use is as common as breath.
But this moment—a dark, indulgent desire to observe what has been hidden— feels like a secrecy of a different kind.
I summon my magic, weaving it into the air before me.
A shimmering portal forms, faintly glowing with violet hues.
My portals can only reach places I know well, and only within a few yards—but that’s enough. I reach out a gloved hand, fingers grazing the cool stone as my magic slips into its ancient seams. The moans drifting from above pull at something deep inside me, a thread I shouldn’t follow—yet I do.
Still, I won’t be caught seeking them.
So I choose the base of the grand staircase, close enough to hear, hidden enough to keep my desire buried. The wall shifts with a quiet groan, stone parting to reveal a darkened archway. I step through, and the passage seals behind me like a secret swallowed whole.
The hidden staircase spirals upward, the air heavier within its confines, carrying the unmistakable scent of old stone and faint perfume.
The moans grow clearer now, blending with soft murmurs and pausing intermittently, as if suspended by breathless anticipation.
I ascend soundlessly as the voices become more distinct.
At the top of the staircase, I press myself against the wall, cloaked in shadow, and peer around the curve of the steps.
The sight stops me cold. Jason. His hair catches the faint light spilling from above, damp with exertion.
His burgundy tunic clings to his back as he moves against the woman in his arms, her blonde hair cascading like a river of sunlight over his shoulder.
Her gasps and moans fill the narrow space, her hands clutching at him as though she fears he might slip away.
“Do you love me?” A soft moan punctuates the pause, her voice trembling as she continues, “Not her?”
My chest tightens, the ache unrelenting, anger simmering beneath it. My gloved hands press against the stone wall as I lean forward, caught in the sickening pull of dread and anticipation.
Jason slows, savoring the moment. He lifts her effortlessly, pressing her against the wall, his lips trailing along her neck before capturing her mouth in a kiss that appears both possessive and final. When he speaks, his voice is low, flat, devoid of tenderness .
“She pales in comparison to you,” he mutters, the words an accusation rather than a compliment.
My breath falters, the rejection cutting deeper than I imagined. Anger surges, hot and consuming with a raw and bitter undercurrent. To him, I am nothing more than a duty, a pawn in a game I never agreed to play.
The tightness in my chest grows unbearable as the sounds linger.
My steps are heavy as I leave, each footfall a reminder of the weight I carry.
The castle feels colder now, the shadows deeper, as though they too have turned against me.
I press my hand to the stone wall and summon a portal, its violet glow flickering to life.
I step through, letting the magic tug me back into the solitude of my bedroom.
The portal closes behind me, and I collapse against the cold stone, my body trembling with the storm of emotions inside.
The first hints of dawn filter through the curtains, soft and unyielding. I take a shaky breath, trying to gather the shattered pieces of myself. The walls, the door, the air around me—they should offer solace, but instead, they magnify the isolation.
Outside, rain begins to tap softly against the window.
Everything feels heavy—my limbs, my head, the air itself.
I drag my feet across the room, my dress clinging to my skin like a shroud.
I strip it off with trembling hands, letting it fall to the floor with the heels that have already bruised my feet.
The cold air bites at my skin as I collapse onto the bed, sinking into the cool satin sheets.
But the second I close my eyes, my thoughts refuse to quiet.
Images of the tryst I just witnessed flash behind my eyelids—cutting deeper with every turn.
The sound of their moans, the way her hand brushed his arm, the way Jason looked at her like she was the only person in the world.
The betrayal gnaws at the edges of my sanity.
I press my face into the pillow, willing it all to disappear, but it’s useless.
It lingers, swirling like a storm that won’t settle.
A single tear slips down my cheek, and I wipe it away furiously, as though punishing myself for being weak. I am stronger than this. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force the images back, but they refuse to leave. All of it feels like a dagger twisting inside me .
I know what it feels like to be wanted by him.
There was a time when his gaze made me feel like the most precious thing in the world.
His touch had carried a kind of reverence, as though I was something he both desired and needed.
But now… now it feels like a lie, a cruel illusion crafted to keep me close.
I trusted the warmth in his eyes, but how can I trust it now when I’ve seen him look at her the same way?
Jason’s face fades, blurring at the edges as another memory pushes forward, unbidden. Green eyes flash vividly in my mind, and I feel the pull of that night in the tavern.
I can still hear Casper’s voice, steady and low, dark and intimate.
I remember the way his gaze held mine—not filled with expectations like Jason’s, but with something raw and untamed.
He had looked at me like he saw me , not the witch, not Clyde’s daughter, not a piece in someone’s scheme. Just me.
In that moment, I had felt something I hadn’t even realized I was starving for: to be seen, to be wanted .
The intensity of it had shaken me, made me feel vulnerable in a way that frightened me. Yet, even now, that feeling lingers, a quiet ache that refuses to let go.
The image of his face, his lips, the way he had leaned in, just a breath away—plays in my mind like a haunting melody.
I try to push it aside, but my thoughts don’t relent.
I see myself stepping closer, my hands tracing his collarbone, his breath warm against my cheek.
His hands pull me in closer until there’s nothing left but the thrum of our heartbeats.
But then doubt creeps in, like a shadow slipping into the light.
It curls around the memory, twisting it until it begins to blur, melting like smoke carried off by the wind.
The warmth fades, and I feel a stab of uncertainty.
What if Casper has someone else? The thought grips me, sinking deeper as it takes root.
Jason had looked at me with that same warmth, had held me as though I were the only thing that mattered—and yet, he still found another.
The rain continues to fall steadily against the windows, a soft percussion that mirrors the ache in my chest. I sink deeper into the sheets, resting my head on my gloved hands.
The cool fabric offers no comfort. Tears slip down my cheeks freely now, unbidden, the satin beneath me drinking them in.
Pain rises, all-consuming, and I lash out without thinking.
My magic surges through the room, dark and volatile, shadows smothering the fire and unfurling like sails to block the light from the window, leaving the chamber shrouded in black.
I lie back against the pillows, my breath shallow and uneven.
Slowly, I pull off my gloves, one finger at a time, exposing the scars to the chilled air.
Magic stirs in my palms, restless and wild, as I lift my hands and conjure an illusion above me.
A night sky unfolds against the ceiling, stars twinkling faintly in the inky blackness.
Their fragile light feels distant yet intimate, unjudging in a way that no gaze ever could be.
Only the stars understand—their brilliance fleeting, destined to fall into the void.
I watch them, yearning for their descent, regarding their shimmering dance as if it could quiet the storm within me.
Their movements lull me, holding my focus until my eyes grow heavy and the rain outside becomes a distant hum.
When sleep finally finds me, it pulls me into dreams of dark green eyes—Casper’s eyes.
They are vivid, piercing, impossible to escape.
His intensity draws me in, comforting and tormenting in equal measure.
I reach for him, drawn by the silent truths and unspoken promises that seem to linger in the air.
But the dream begins to twist, shifting beneath me like the earth giving way.