Page 69 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)

Jason moves through the room with a quiet intensity, checking every corner and shadow as though he expects danger to leap out at any moment. He even opens the door to the bathing chamber, peering inside.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my confusion growing as I watch him.

Jason does not respond at once. He surveys the room one final time before he strides toward the front door, testing the lock with care.

" Making certain we are alone."

I narrow my eyes, crossing my arms as I watch him.

" And why, exactly, are we searching for ghosts in the shadows?"

The words leave my lips before I can stop them, and the irony isn’t lost on me. A ghost. That’s exactly what I had seen. Or perhaps not a ghost—something far more formidable, far more real.

He stops and looks at me, his brow raising slightly.

“Says the girl who talks to herself.”

I tilt my head at his quip, acknowledging the truth with a small nod.

“Fair enough.”

Jason checks behind the curtain, his shoulders tense. I step closer, placing a hand on his arm.

“Hey,” I say softly, trying to ground him. “What’s wrong?”

He looks down at me, his jaw tightening, his posture stiff. For a beat, he doesn’t say anything, as if weighing his words carefully. Then, he exhales and gestures in the air with a small swirl of his finger.

“Do that thing you do,” he says .

I blink, tilting my head in feigned confusion.

"I have not the slightest idea what you mean."

Jason narrows his eyes, unimpressed.

"Don’t play coy with me. I saw you ward the back of the library when we were children so we wouldn’t be caught. You are not as subtle as you believe."

My mouth pulls into a reluctant smile as I meet his gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jason tilts his head, eyes narrowing.

"Lailah, you were the most willful, sharp-tongued child I had ever met. Am I to believe no one ever heard?—"

"Fine," I cut him off, lifting my gloved hand.

With a flick of my fingers, shadows unfurl like creeping vines, seeping into the walls, latching onto the stone.

The room is swallowed in darkness, my magic settling into place, sealing us away from prying eyes.

The shadows climb upward, weaving a protective barrier that locks out sound and sight.

Jason’s smile lingers as he tilts his head slightly, clearly impressed.

“What do you have to say that’s so important I have to use my magic to block it?” I ask, crossing my arms.

“Your father wants us to go on our honeymoon,” he says, his tone measured. “To my lands.”

I narrow my eyes at him, my suspicion growing. My father never allows me to leave the castle walls, his obsessive fear for my safety outweighing every other concern. Suffocating as it is, that fear isn’t misplaced.

Men like Lord Striden are proof of that—men who wear loyalty like a mask, concealing whatever treachery lurks beneath.

The memory of what I saw this evening refuses to leave me, the shadows shifting and the whispers I wasn’t meant to hear.

If Striden isn’t loyal to my father, he’s dangerous—more dangerous than I can afford to ignore.

Unease prickles at my skin, each breath heavier than the last as I try to piece together what it all means.

Jason watches my reaction carefully, his voice steady as he continues, “ We’re to leave the day after tomorrow, traveling with the army moving toward my territory.”

I stiffen, the words sinking in.

“And why exactly is this secretive?”

Jason shakes his head softly, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Your father has guards everywhere, ears and eyes on you at all times. I didn’t think you’d want him knowing that we haven’t… shared a bed.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, embarrassment flooding me as the reasoning becomes clear.

“Oh,” I mutter, turning from him quickly, trying to hide the shame clawing its way to the surface.

The guilt twists in my stomach like a dagger. I had been intimate with another man while Jason had been nothing but a gentleman. A pit forms in my stomach, shame settling thick and heavy. Warm hands on my arms pull me from my spiraling thoughts.

Jason steps closer, his lips brushing softly against my shoulder and collarbone, lingering for a brief moment before he sighs deeply.

I turn slightly into his embrace, the tenderness in his touch disarming me.

He presses a gentle kiss to my temple, his breath warm against my skin, before backing away.

“I’m sorry, Jason” I say quietly, my voice barely audible.

He doesn’t speak right away. Just watches me for a long moment, then tilts his head slightly, a flicker of confusion in his gaze.

“For what?” he asks softly.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes. Because I don’t know how to answer—at least not in a way that wouldn’t cut us both.

For wanting someone else. For craving another man’s touch when Jason’s hands have only ever tried to be gentle.

For still remembering the way Casper looked at me, even now, with Jason standing before me, still trying .

The shame tightens in my throat. It isn’t Jason’s fault. And yet, I cannot give him what he wants. What he deserves. Not when I’m tangled up in someone else’s shadow.

Jason steps toward me, his movements slow, careful, as though he knows how fragile this moment is. He stops just in front of me, looking down, his face expressionless—except for the sorrow that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

“I will not have you apologize for keeping your distance,” he says, his voice steady, touched more by sorrow than reproach. “Not after what I’ve done. I have no right to expect anything else.”

I frown, my brows pulling closer. “Jason, I?—”

But he cuts me off.

"I meant what I swore on our wedding night. However long it takes for me to be the man you truly want… I will wait."

I swallow hard, taking in his sincerity while masking my own deceit.

Before I can respond, the door to our chamber creaks open.

I freeze mid-motion, my brow furrowing as a guard with auburn hair and piercing blue eyes steps inside.

His gaze meets mine immediately, a mixture of urgency and concern flashing across his face.

The silence in the room is thick, the faint traces of dark magic still lingering on the walls. Recognition dawns in the guard’s features as his gaze hardens. He couldn’t hear us through the door—my magic muted everything—and the quiet must have alarmed him.

“Are you all right, Princess?” he asks, unease lingering in his voice.

I nod quickly, trying to dispel the tension.

“Yes,” I reply, gesturing toward Jason, his hand still clenched around the hilt of his sword. “I am with my husband.”

The guard’s eyes flick to Jason for a brief moment before he straightens and nods.

"Of course, Princess," he says, bowing deeply, though his gaze remains on Jason as if he’s measuring every inch of him. There’s something in the guard’s expression—a skepticism that’s impossible to ignore.

Without another word, he steps back and closes the door behind him. The sound echoes in the stillness, but his presence lingers. I can feel the weight of his suspicion, the way his attention had shifted to Jason like he was calculating a threat. He doesn’t trust him—I see it now.

Jason moves swiftly to the door, his shoulders tense as he locks it with a solid click. His focus is razor-sharp as he turns back to face me, his brows furrowed deeply.

“And you wonder why I wanted you to spell the room,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of frustration.

I shake my head and laugh softly under my breath, though unease still lingers. Something about the way the guard looked at us feels… off. Like there’s more going on than I understand.

“Are you okay?”

My brows draw together. The question lands heavier than I expect, thick with concern—and something else. Guilt begins to twist in my chest.

I should tell him. About Casper. About everything.

But where would I even begin?

If I speak his name, I’d have to explain why I was with him…

what I felt. And then the rest—his father, the things I saw.

The memory claws at the edges of my mind, refusing to stay buried.

I saw the exchange between Lord Striden and the guard.

The coins. The nod. The silence that followed, a pact that felt like a betrayal.

How do I say any of it without unraveling everything between us?

Would he even believe me?

A knot forms in my throat as I glance away, my thoughts spiraling. He deserves to know. Maybe he already suspects. But dragging it all into the light feels like shattering something we’ve only just begun to piece back together.

“I need to tell you something,” I say quietly, the words trembling at the edges.

He inhales sharply, his chest rising as if bracing himself. His gaze finds mine, steady now, unreadable.

“I…”

He shakes his head once, slow.

“If this is about the King’s shadow…” he trails off, jaw tightening before he forces the words through clenched teeth, “I know you said there wasn’t anything between the two of you. But I see the way he looks at you.”

My brows knit as my eyes search his face .

“I know what I’ve done,” he says, voice low. “And I’ll live with the consequences of that. But you…” His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “If you found solace in someone because of me, because I failed you, I would understand.”

I stare at him, as my brows pull.

“Jason.”

He nods, as if trying to convince himself of his own words.

“We start anew?”

I stare at him. My lips part, but no words come. Not yet. My brows pull tighter. The truth is on the tip of my tongue, burning—but so is the weight of everything else. Jason steps forward, placing his hands gently on my arms.

“I’m going to bed,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

He searches my face briefly before turning away, his footsteps soft against the floor. My jaw clenches as I exhale deeply, ruminating over everything left unsaid.

“Jason,” I call softly, stopping him at the door to his adjoining chamber.

He turns to look at me, his expression calm but tired.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice trembling just enough to betray the tightness growing in me, like something caught behind my ribs, begging to be let loose.

Jason nods, a small, understanding smile tugging at his lips. But his gaze lingers, sweeping over me as if committing every detail to memory. Then, without a word, he slips through the door and closes it behind him.

I stand there for a long moment, the room feeling empty, the echoes of his words and his touch lingering in the air around me.

I move to the window, the cool night air seeping through the glass.

The moon hangs low in the sky, its pale light casting a silver glow across the room.

My tired reflection stares back at me. The woman I see doesn’t feel like a princess or a wife—just a girl caught in the middle of a game she never wanted to play.