Page 56 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)

His words catch me off guard, a slow, welcome surprise flooding through me.

It’s unexpected, and I can feel my heartbeat steady in response.

But when I meet his soft gaze, a small, fleeting smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

It’s the same gentle look he used to give me when we were younger, when his love felt like something pure and untainted.

That feeling stirs inside me now, unfamiliar and comforting all at once.

I reach up, taking his hand in mine, and nod.

Without a word, I turn and walk toward the cabinet stocked with liquor, reaching for the amber that rests there.

As I pour myself a glass, Jason steps closer, his presence wrapping around me like a slow, controlled tide.

His hands settle on my shoulders, a gentle touch that sends a ripple of nervousness through my body.

I can feel his warmth behind me, the intimacy of it sending a shiver down my spine.

I turn to hand him his glass, our fingers brushing briefly as I clink our drinks together. The sound rings softly, but the atmosphere feels anything but light.

“I’ve never…”

My words falter, the sentence dangling unfinished. I struggle to grasp the right words, to give shape to the doubts tangled in my mind.

Jason’s brow furrows slightly as he leans closer.

“You’ve never…?” he echoes, his voice quiet, almost careful, but the disbelief beneath it is unmistakable. “Done this before?”

The suddenness of his question knocks the breath from my lungs. My lips part, but no sound comes, and I stare back at him, caught in the intensity of his gaze.His eyes search mine, narrowing slightly, his tone dipping lower as he presses.

“Have you?”

The words are barely more than a whisper as he abandons his glass, his hands rising to gently cradle my face, his thumbs brushing along my cheeks.

I quake beneath his touch—whether from the chill in the air or the quiet reverence in his gaze, I can’t tell.

He draws back just enough to study me, his brows knitting with something that feels too close to tenderness.

“You’re freezing,” he murmurs, more to himself than to me.

I shake my head, the movement small, almost reflexive, as heat rises beneath my skin.

The smile on his lips softens—tender in a way that feels foreign, intimate, and it steals the air from my lungs.

I meet his gaze, unsteady, my throat tightening as the moment stretches.

My hands tremble slightly at my sides, my mind a tangle of thoughts I can’t untangle fast enough.

Jason shakes his head, his forehead dipping forward to rest gently against mine.

The touch is so tender, so intimate, and I freeze, caught in the warmth of his closeness.

The world seems to slow, but then he steps back, breaking the spell.

He picks up his drink, taking a long sip before walking toward the bathing chamber.

I watch him, unable to look away. He untangles the cuffs from his wrists, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up.

A flush rises in my cheeks as I take in the sight of his strong, veined arms, the sunlight illuminating the sinewy muscles.

The light casts shadows that accentuate his form, and I can't help but wonder what lies beneath his clothing.

As Jason turns the corner, my gaze instinctively drops to the ground in embarrassment.

But just as the silence thickens, the sound of water running fills the air, breaking the stillness.

Stepping forward cautiously, I watch as Jason adds lavender and honey to the water, the scent mingling with the crisp air.

He tests the temperature before turning toward me, his gaze meeting mine, quiet and searching.

There’s a shift in the air, the quiet beginning to claw at my nerves.

Jason’s eyes flick to the door beside the bed, his focus momentarily distant.

I follow his gaze, confused. He doesn’t speak, but I sense something unspoken between us, something that stretches beyond the room itself.

Jason steps forward, his hands once more finding my face.

He leans down, brushing a kiss to my forehead.

“I’ll be sleeping in my chamber tonight,” he says softly, nodding toward the door beside the bed.

His politeness, the calm generosity of it, shocks me. I blink, still processing his words, but before I can speak, he steps past me.

"Jason," I call after him, the word slipping from my lips before I could stop it.

He stops, slowly turning back to face me, his eyes meeting mine with a soft smile, one that broadens his lips but doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice softer than I expected.

Jason’s smile widens, and for a moment, the unease in the room eases. He nods, his gaze shifting to the floor before returning to me.

“Goodnight, Lailah,” he says, his voice gentle as he walks toward the door, closing it softly behind him.

And then, I am alone.

The room feels empty now, the silence heavy.

I turn toward the window, my eyes tracing the vast expanse of the palace grounds below.

The sight of it all—a blend of lush gardens and stone pathways—grounds me, though a knot tightens in my chest. I take a step forward, my gloved fingers brushing against the curtains, and I pull them closed.

The darkness swallows me whole, and in the quiet, the room feels both a sanctuary and a cage.

I close my eyes, exhaling deeply, as the stillness settles around me like a familiar, wanted friend.