Page 58 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)

I groan low and hoarse, the sound caught between anger and something darker.

My vision tilts as she pushes me harder into the bed, her hips rocking with increasing fervor.

The tent spins, my breaths shallow and uneven as I fight to hold on to some shred of control.

But Vanessa’s moans grow louder, almost obscene, her pleasure echoing in the tent as she feeds with reckless abandon.

“ Enough ,” I manage to rasp, though my voice is barely audible.

The word is meaningless to her. She bites deeper, her nails now dragging down my torso to grip my hips as her grinding becomes frantic, her movements no longer controlled but wild and feral.

The loss of blood is too much. My body betrays me as my head falls back, the strength draining from me entirely.

My head hits the bed with a heavy thud, and the world around me begins to fade.

Dark spots invade the edges of my vision as weakness washes over me, the world slipping further out of focus.

Just as my eyes begin to close, a loud, resounding thud jerks me back to awareness.

Through the haze, I see Callum’s hand wrapped tightly around Vanessa’s throat, his knuckles pale from the pressure. Blood drips from her lips, a macabre grin splitting her face as she tilts her head to look at him. Her voice, light and mocking, spills into the room.

“You know how much I love seeing you worked up, Callum,” she purrs, her voice laced with a teasing edge, even as his fangs bare and his grip around her throat tightens.

She licks the blood from her mouth, her grin curling with wicked delight, but her confidence flounders under the intensity of his glare.

With a guttural growl, Callum slams her against a wooden post, the force making the entire tent tremble.

The sound reverberates in the heavy silence, a warning that cuts through her bravado .

“Oh, you don’t want to see me when I’m angry, Vanessa ,” he murmurs under his breath.

His face is inches from hers, his words like a blade twisting in the air between them.

“Unlike Casper, I enjoy pain.” He leans closer, his dark eyes narrowing, his tone darkening further. “Which means I know how to make you scream.”

Vanessa’s grin falters, her confidence cracking as a flash of fear flickers in her eyes.

She swallows hard, trying to recover, but Callum sees it—the moment she realizes she’s gone too far.

He drops her without ceremony, letting her fall to the floor in a heap.

She stumbles as she stands, wiping at the blood on her lips with the back of her hand, her smile slipping back into place like a mask.

“So dramatic,” she scoffs, but the quiver in her voice betrays her.

Her gaze darts between him and the tent flap before she laughs—an insincere, forced sound—and turns on her heel.

“You’re no fun tonight,” she throws over her shoulder as she saunters out of the tent, her voice losing its edge as she disappears into the night.

Callum watches Vanessa saunter out of the tent, his shoulders rising and falling with barely contained fury.

His fangs are still bared, his jaw tight, and his fists clench at his sides as though he’s resisting the urge to tear the tent apart.

Slowly, he turns to face me, disgust etched into his face.

I blink, trying to clear the blur from my vision, but everything feels too heavy—the tent, the air, even my own body.

My head swims, the effects of Vanessa’s bite leaving me weak, unsteady.

I manage to lift my gaze to his, though my sight is still hazy, and for a breath, we simply stare at each other.

Callum’s disgust deepens as his hands flex at his sides. Without waiting for my reply, he tosses a rolled parchment at me, the impact snapping me out of my haze as it hits my chest.

“There’s nothing about how to harness the stone. Just that King Sarris might already have it.” He turns sharply, making his way toward the tent’s entrance .

I watch him go, his anger lingering in the air, but before he disappears, he pauses, looking back at me over his shoulder. I catch disgust still burning in his eyes before he slips through the flaps and vanishes into the night.

I don’t follow. I can’t. My head falls into my hands as I run my fingers through my hair, trying to steady myself.

My breaths are shallow, each one an effort to pull myself back from the edge of unconsciousness.

The sound of the tent flaps stirs me again, and I look up to find Gwyn kneeling beside me, her brown eyes filled with concern as she holds a bottle of blood in her hand.

She places a steadying hand on my knee as she offers it to me.

I waste no time breaking the top off, letting the blood pour down my throat. The rush of warmth and strength is immediate, but it does little to calm me.

“This has to stop, Cas,” Gwyn says softly, her voice careful but firm. Her fingers brush against my cheek, her touch grounding me.

I nod wordlessly, leaning into her touch as my hand moves to cover hers. She presses a light kiss to the top of my head, her presence a fleeting comfort. As she moves toward the tent entrance, she pauses, her hand lingering on the fabric.

“Is this really about the stone?” she asks, her voice laced with hesitation. She glances back at me, her brow furrowing. “Or something more?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, stepping out into the night and leaving me alone with the weight of her words. The silence presses in again, heavier than before, as my mind begins to spiral.

This is my doing. The mess we’re in—this relentless chase, this chaos—it’s all because of me.

My revenge against Clyde, the need to destroy what he took from me, has consumed me so completely that it’s left me a shell of who I am.

Every bone in my body feels like it’s been infused with hatred, every scar a reminder of what he ripped away.

I lean back against the bed, closing my eyes as memories crash over me. Her laughter echoes in my mind, clear and bright, her long black hair that shone as it caught the light. Her crystal blue eyes that softened when she smiled, a smile that made the world feel less cruel.

But that memory fades, replaced by another— Lailah .

Her sharp tongue, her defiant gaze, her smile that stirs something in me I thought was long dead.

The ache I harbor deepens, a void I can’t fill, no matter how much blood is spilled or how many plans I set in motion.

Clyde took everything from me, but it’s the thought of losing Lailah that makes it impossible to breathe.