Page 55 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)
Jason’s hand steadies me as he guides me into another turn. His touch is gentle, purposeful—too careful. Like he’s trying to reach me without shattering whatever fragile thing remains between us.
" Forgive me, Lailah, " he says, his voice low, a plea stripped of pride. " For all of it. For what I have done, for what I have not. If I could undo it, if I could take it from you, I would."
His gaze holds mine, unguarded, something breaking open within him. It is not just regret that lingers there, but something deeper, something that hurts .
"I never meant—" He swallows hard, shaking his head, as if the words themselves are failing him. "I am so sorry."
Something inside me cracks—the boy I once adored, who held a thousand golden memories, looks back at me, the one who made me laugh when I wanted to cry.
My composure softens with the warmth of those memories.
I see him as he was then—mischievous and earnest, the boy who ran barefoot through the orchards with me, who made faces behind the tutor’s back just to see me smile, who swore he’d build me a treehouse and cried when he fell from the lowest branch.
These shared moments tug at the corners of my heart, filling the cracks with something tender, if fleeting.
“You are a fool,” I laugh, my resolve melting.
Jason freezes for half a breath, eyes locking on mine like he’s not sure he heard me right.
But then he sees it—the softness I didn’t mean to show, a guard finally lowered.
Relief floods his features, quiet and staggering, before a chuckle slips past his lips.
The sound brushes against the tension like dawn’s first light.
The violins swell as he pulls me closer, our steps aligning under the watchful crowd.
"Do you remember hiding in the library as children?"
A faint smile touches my lips.
"How could I forget? Who slips away from their tutor only to bury themselves in books? "
His quiet laugh softens the severity of my words, a sound that stirs something deep within me, something aching and familiar.
"You hid from the tutor. I had no reason to be there at all."
I tilt my head, brows knitting in confusion as I search his face.
"What do you mean?"
He hesitates, his eyes darting downward before lifting to meet mine again. Then, Jason leans in, his voice meant only for me.
"I was meant to be in council meetings with our fathers, learning to shape the future they planned for me. I cannot count the number of lashings I took for slipping away—just to be with you."
His confession steals the air from my lungs. I falter, but he steadies me with the lightest touch, grounding me before I even realize I am swaying.
"I didn’t know," I whisper, the cold edges of my heart starting to thaw.
He does not answer at once, letting the silence stretch. Then, at last?—
"I would do it again," he says, quiet but certain. "A thousand times over. I do not regret a single moment spent with you."
The music softens, the melody intimate, cradling us between each phrase. He rests his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling.
"I know I have shattered the image of the boy you once knew," he murmurs, each word heavy with the burden of his failures. "But I will become the husband you deserve, no matter how long it takes. Because one thing has always remained true…"
He pulls back just enough to hold my gaze, his sincerity stealing the very breath from my chest.
"I would follow you into the abyss without hesitation—so long as it meant I could stay by your side."
His honesty slices clean through the tangle of doubts clouding my heart, grounding me in something real. Then, almost as if he’s trying to undo the seriousness of it, he smirks—his tone shifting, playful and warm, like sunlight slipping through a crack in the door.
" Even if it means another whipping. "
I chuckle despite myself, the sound soft, unexpected—like something fragile breaking free. Jason grins, the unease loosening just enough to breathe.
"Unless you’re fond of that sort of thing," he teases.
I roll my eyes, nudging him lightly, though the warmth rising to my cheeks betrays me.
"You truly have no shame."
His grin widens, entirely unrepentant.
"Not when it makes you smile."
His grin widens—jaunty, crooked, entirely unrepentant—but the moment it stretches, he winces. He hisses through his teeth, the split in his lip reopening, undercutting the bravado with a flash of rawness.
I step closer, instinctively.
“Are you okay?”
He meets my gaze, eyes gleaming with something that looks far too much like guilt beneath the grin.
“It was well deserved.”
Before I can say more, he leans in—close enough that I catch the faint scent of leather and blood—and murmurs low, “But I’d take worse if it meant you’d look at me like that again.”
Then, without warning, he spins me beneath the chandelier.
The motion is effortless, almost tender, like he’s trying to steal one last moment of softness before the world catches up to us.
The crowd fades for a second, their applause distant, the whispers blurred.
It’s just us, moving as one. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a way forward.
A way to bridge the broken pieces of what we once had.
The music slows, the final notes stretching out as the dance comes to its end.
Jason steps back slightly, his hand lingering on mine as we bow to the crowd.
Their applause swells, a sound that should feel triumphant but instead drips with the weight of expectations I can’t seem to shake.
My smile stays firmly in place, though my gaze drifts toward the shadows beyond the gilded room.
And there he is .
Casper stands just out of the light, his presence a thundercloud on the edge of the horizon. His eyes meet mine, and for a fleeting moment, I feel the pull of a tide threatening to consume me. I force a smile, though my chest feels like it might collapse.
Jason and I step away from the dance floor, the applause of the crowd slowly dissipating.
My father appears from the edge of the room, his towering figure commanding attention even as guests depart.
His eyes soften as he approaches me. He leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple, his hand lingering on my shoulder as though to remind me of my station.
“You’ve done well tonight, my sweet,” he says, his voice low but firm. There’s no warmth in it, only approval.
He turns to Jason, his demeanor shifting ever so slightly. His hand extends, gripping Jason’s in a firm shake that carries an unspoken warning.
“You know what’s expected,” he says simply.
Jason nods, his expression composed, though his fingers twitch slightly at his side once my father steps away.
As the doors close behind us, the echo of the ballroom lingers faintly in my ears.
My steps falter, my gaze instinctively darting toward the shadows.
Casper is nowhere to be found, his absence a void I can’t will away.
I tell myself he’s already left, that he’s doing what he always does—disappearing before anyone can pin him down. But the unease doesn’t fade.
Jason’s hand tightens gently around mine, drawing me back into the present.
“We should head to the chambers,” he says, his voice soft but steady.
I nod, though my mind lingers elsewhere.
As we walk through the quiet halls, the sense of disconnect deepens, each step pulling me further into the reality I can’t seem to escape.
I always knew what this day had in store for me.
Sera had prepared me, teaching me to maintain some semblance of control as I learned what it meant to be beneath another.
I knew exactly what was expected of me today, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life.
But as Jason and I make our way toward our shared bedchamber, I feel a strange disconnect from myself, something I never imagined could happen.
It's as if the world around me is shifting, as if I'm both present and distant at once.
Jason’s warm touch brushes my lower back, guiding me forward as the doors to our joined room swing open. The room is twice the size of my own chamber, vast and expansive, its air heavy with the scent of cedarwood and fire.
A fire crackles in the hearth, casting a golden glow on the walls, while the heavy curtains block the harshness of the early morning sun.
Jason crosses the room, his movements graceful, and pulls the curtains open, letting the sunlight pour into the space.
The sudden brightness stings my eyes and I force them to adjust. In that moment, I take in the room fully.
The walls are draped in rich creams and soft greens, an almost ethereal blend that feels like nature itself is woven into the fabric.
A faint, unsettling sensation stirs deep within me as I focus on the dark green sheets upon the bed—my mind flashes to Casper’s evergreen eyes, the image lingering shamefully long.
I glance over to find Jason standing by the window, his eyes distant, lost in thought.
The sight of him standing there makes something heavy settle in my stomach.
I turn away, unclasping my bracelet, letting it fall on the desk with a delicate clink.
I reach for the black diamond crown, its weight both ceremonial and personal, placing it carefully on the pillow beside the desk, its coldness a glaring contrast to the warmth surrounding me.
I look up and find Jason’s eyes on me now, his gaze steady as he begins to undo the buttons of his shirt.
The intimacy of the moment wraps itself around me like a tight coil.
A sudden flush rises to my cheeks, and I quickly look away, feeling suddenly vulnerable.
As I move to unzip my dress, Jason approaches.
His hand, warm and sure, finds its way beneath my chin, gently tilting my face upward.
“We don’t have to rush this,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “Not today.”