Page 21 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)

The stallion presses its forehead to mine, its breath warm against my skin.

My free hand rises to cradle its face, and for a second, the tumult inside me stills.

With my other, I quietly sheath the blade at my hip, the soft click of steel meeting leather barely audible over the sound of the wind.

Another memory stirs within me, distant and fragmented.

A comforting presence, the sound of hooves against the earth, and the faintest laugh of a child—my laugh.

The fragments slip away before I can grasp them, but the feeling remains.

“I know you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible above the rain.

The stallion responds with a soft nicker, leaning closer as though it understands. Briefly, my restlessness fades, replaced by a quiet connection that feels both fragile and eternal.

The distinct crack of something breaking pulls my gaze downward, where apples scatter at my feet. A soft laugh escapes me as I glance up to find the branches heavy with fruit, swaying gently despite the steady drizzle.

"An apple tree..." I murmur, a smile tugging at my lips.

I reach out for the stallion again, my fingers brushing his sleek nose. But a sudden chill crawls over my spine, the air growing tense. I can sense the presence of something—or someone. The hairs on my neck stand on end as I scan the depths of the forest.

I step back from the stallion, my hand grazing his neck as I move away, giving him space to run if a threat approaches.

I make my way deeper into the woods, each step calculated, though my senses are on edge.

The wet earth muffles my footfalls, and the silence presses in, suffocating, as the rain falls softly around me.

The stillness seems almost unnatural, like the forest is holding its breath.

My pulse quickens, but I continue walking, trying to stay calm.

Still, the sense of being followed lingers, a constant presence in the shadows, just beyond my reach.

The quiet feels like the moment before a storm. I know I'm not alone. Something—or someone—is keeping pace, hidden within the trees. The game has begun, but I don’t know yet who’s playing, or what their goal is.

I pull my dagger from its sheath again, the cold steel heavy in my hand. A thrill runs through my fingertips as I twirl it, the blade’s edge catching the faint light. Every muscle tenses as I focus on the shadow that lingers just beyond my reach.

In a fluid, almost instinctual movement, I spin on my heel, throwing the dagger with deadly force. The blade cuts through the air, a whisper of motion, its trajectory true—but it doesn’t find its mark. Instead, it buries itself with a resounding thud into the trunk of a nearby tree.

Before I can even process the misfire, a sudden pressure grips my waist. Strong arms coil around me, pulling me backward into a firm embrace. My back presses against my captor’s chest, and the warmth that surrounds me feels inescapable.

“Hello, Princess,” a man’s voice purrs in my ear, low and amused, sending a ripple of excitement through me.

It’s a voice I know too well, one that should offer comfort, yet hearing it now, in the rain-drenched quiet of the woods, it makes me tremble.

The recognition strikes deep, but so does the unease—the twist in my gut that tells me this is no longer a simple game.

The rules have changed. I am no longer the one in control.

I pull my hood back, turning in his grasp to face him. His own hood slips away, revealing chiseled features and dark hair that gleams faintly in the dappled light. His green eyes lock onto mine, the intensity of his gaze making my pulse quicken as if he could see through me.

I take a slow step back, barely making a sound on the damp forest floor.

"Are you following me, vampire?" I murmur, a playful tone slipping into my voice.

Casper’s eyes sweep over me, lingering as though he’s taking in every detail. He doesn’t respond immediately, and for a while, we stand in silence. He steps closer, shrinking the space between us.

A small smile curves my lips, teasing. “You know who I am.”

Casper’s lips twitch into a knowing grin, but he doesn’t answer right away. He studies me, and then, almost as if weighing his words carefully, he finally speaks.

“I think everyone knows who you are, Princess .” His voice is smooth, but there’s a subtle bite to it, like he’s testing me.

A flush rises to my cheeks, the memory of the night at the tavern coming back with unexpected intensity. I force myself to meet his eyes, but the warmth in my face betrays me. I take a step back, the air shifting around us.

“So, not only a vampire…but a spy too?” I tilt my head, keeping my gaze focused. “Tell me—do you always stumble into convenient situations, or simply seize them and call it fate?”

A slow, sinful smile curves his lips as he steps deliberately closer, his presence shadowed in predatory grace. “I am no spy.”

My eyes flick down, assessing the distinct cut of his cloak, the craftsmanship of his sword, the subtle luxury woven into the uniform. Not a common guard, certainly. I take another step back, watching closely as he mirrors my movement forward.

“But you are a guard, are you not?”

He inclines his head slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes as he takes another step forward. My breath catches, and I instinctively retreat another step. He could be a commander, or someone even more dangerous. Someone who answers directly to my father.

“Why are you out in the woods, vampire?” I challenge him softly.

He smiles faintly, almost ruefully.

“I came to clear my head. This is the only place that seems to keep the voices at bay.”

My brows pull together slightly as curiosity courses through me. Just what thoughts could haunt a creature like him? He moves forward again, closing the gap slightly. I should move. I should leave. But I don’t. Because I know exactly what he means.

I came here for the same reason.

To outrun the sound of my own thoughts. Jason’s voice, still echoing. The rage I’m not allowed to feel. The shame I can’t seem to swallow. Not good enough. Not chosen. Never enough to be loved the way you love back. And yet, standing here with him, the noise quiets just enough to let me breathe.

We both came here to be alone, I realize. And somehow ended up finding each other instead. Casper watches me steadily, as if he’s already familiar with the parts of me I haven’t dared to show. He studies me not with curiosity, but with a quiet certainty, like he already knows what he’ll find .

And gods, I want to step closer. The instinct rises before I can reason with it, something unspoken tugging me forward. But I stop myself—heart caught in my throat, movement stilled before it begins.

His eyes flicker, just barely. He saw it.

“What are you doing out here all alone, Princess? I doubt the king would be happy to hear his darling daughter is wandering the woods by herself.”

I smirk, defiant and confident.

“I can take care of myself.”

His own smirk deepens knowingly. “I can see that.”

My smile lingers as he takes another step toward me, prompting me to step back again.

“Are we dancing now?” he asks softly, teasing.

“I don’t dance with strangers.”

His laugh is quiet—deep and warm.

“Oh, but we aren’t strangers are we?”

He takes a step closer, his presence coiling around me like smoke. I step back, feigning calm, though my breath betrays me.

“Careful, Princess. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you like to be chased.”

My pulse quickens, heat unfurling beneath my skin.

The quiet promise of pursuit—thrills me more than I'd ever admit.

Even back at the tavern, the very thought of him recognizing me had sent anticipation surging through my veins.

Now that he does, now that the mask is stripped away, it only makes me ache more deeply to be truly seen. To be hunted by him. To be caught.

Yet, I lift my chin, smiling in quiet defiance.

“Is that what you believe I want?” I take another step back, reclaiming some space for myself. “Or merely what you wish I did?”

Then, a warm breath against my shoulder catches me off guard. I turn—there, standing in the misty rain, is the stallion. It takes me a moment to steady myself as I let out a soft laugh.

“You know, it’s not polite to sneak up on someone,” I tease, reaching toward him.

The stallion tilts his head, his dark eyes watching me with a quiet understanding, as if he, too, finds my surprise amusing. I take a step closer, brushing my fingers through his mane. A soft puff of air escapes his nostrils, as though he’s laughing along with me.

Behind me, Casper watches, his gaze never leaving me. His boots thud softly on the wet earth as he steps closer, his voice cutting through the silence.

“Do you know who you caress, Princess?”

I glance back at him, shaking my head. I stoop to the ground, fingers brushing over an apple that has fallen from one of the nearby trees.

The stallion’s ears flick toward me as I rise, the fruit now in my hand.

I offer it gently to him, watching as he leans in, his strong jaw working through the crisp flesh with ease.

“He’s a descendant of a great royal bloodline of stallions,” Casper continues, his voice reverent. “The last true heir to his lineage. A king among beasts.”

Casper’s fingers brush the stallion’s face, a softness to his touch that feels at odds with the tension still humming between us. There’s something deeper in the way he handles the creature—something more than mere admiration.

“What’s his name?” I ask, my voice quieter now, the curiosity stronger than before.

Casper steps back, allowing me to take the lead with the majestic animal. His smile is subtle, watching me carefully, studying my every movement.

“Some know him as Sihalant…” he says, his voice dropping, the name rolling off his tongue like an ancient incantation.