Page 93 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)

The magic twists and writhes, wrapping around Callum in dark tendrils.

I press harder, ignoring the sharp pain building in my chest, ignoring the voices pleading with me to stop.

I will drown in my own magic. I will offer every piece of myself, even the ones I haven’t yet learned to love, if it means he will open his eyes and look at me once more.

“I won’t lose you,” I whisper. “Not like this. Please, Callum. Come back to me.”

My hands stay pressed to him, slick with his blood, my fingers trembling violently as the pain begins to bloom—hot, sharp, unrelenting. It hurts. Gods, it hurts .

“Lailah, stop.”

Casper’s voice slices through the storm—low, steady, and laced with something I’ve only ever heard when he says my name. That velvet tone, dark and commanding, the one that always finds me no matter how far I fall. Slowly, I lift my head, breath ragged, my vision swimming through tears.

He stands just beyond the edge of the barrier, his eyes locked on mine—fierce, unblinking. But it isn’t anger I see. It’s fear, carved into the set of his jaw, threaded through the furrow of his brow. A kind of fear I’ve never seen in him before.

And it’s for me .

Another surge of darkness pours out of me, savage and devouring.

It tears through the muscle of my arms, splinters into my ribs, coils around my spine like barbed wire.

Each pulse is violent, my veins burning black with power I was never meant to wield like this.

It shreds through me with no mercy, shattering whatever is left of my strength.

My teeth clench against a cry, but it rips from me anyway—a sound raw and jagged, as if my soul is being dragged out with every flicker of light I force into him.

The barrier around us hums louder, shaking with the echo of my ruin, but I’m barely aware of it. My magic is eating me alive, strip by strip, nerve by nerve, and still I pour it into him.

My back arches as another surge hits, but I don't falter—I can’t . Not until I know. Not until I see his eyes again.

“Callum…” The words rip from my throat, a desperate cry against the suffocating silence. “Please.”

Then—like a whisper from the wreckage—a breath.

So faint I almost miss it. A flutter, a tremor beneath my palms, more ghost than life. My heart lurches violently, hope surging like blood through a burst vein, sharp and sudden and terrifying. I freeze, unsure if I imagined it, or if it was some cruel spark of memory lodged in my hands.

But then it happens again.

Stronger this time. A staggered inhale. A rise and fall, shallow but real, dragging air through lungs that moments ago had fallen silent.

I can feel it now—the slow rhythm building beneath my touch, unsteady, faint, but growing.

A heartbeat. A fragile pulse, thudding weakly against my fingers like a drum that refuses to stay silent.

The wound knits together before my eyes, muscle drawing inward, blood coagulating, thick and sluggish until it stops completely.

Skin closes over torn flesh like time is reversing itself, like death has been denied its claim.

Magic flows relentlessly through the air, heavy with pain and sacrifice.

I can feel it twisting through him, through every fiber and vein, through me, through the very earth.

For a moment I forget how to move, how to breathe, how to hope .

Then his chest rises.

And the faint thrum of his heart steadies beneath my hands. The wave of relief is overwhelming. It tears through me, ripping sobs from my throat.

Then he gasps.

A sharp, sudden inhale that wrenches his body upward. His chest lifts, his throat gapes, and the sound he makes is wet with pain, but alive. His dark eyes flutter open, dazed and unfocused at first, until they find mine. And when they do, something inside me caves.

I reach for him without thinking, pulling him into me, anchoring him with every trembling limb I have left.

My arms wrap around his body, desperate, possessive, as though holding him tightly enough might convince the world not to take him again.

I bury my face in his shoulder. His skin is warm.

His breath is real. His heartbeat stutters against mine, alive .

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Alias mutters from behind me in disbelief. But his words barely register.

I lift my head slowly, exhaustion threatening to force my eyes to close.

But as I force myself to look up, the world no longer feels the same—the barrier is gone, dissolved into the air as if it had never existed, and every figure in the clearing stands frozen, wide-eyed and unblinking, their attention locked on Callum.

My tears fall freely, soaking into his shirt, and for a moment I stay there, clinging to him as everything around us stills. Slowly, reluctantly, I pull back, brushing at my face as I look at him again, relief and weariness tangling together.

“Maybe I should get that leash for you after all,” I murmur, a faint smile tugging at my lips as I try to mask the overwhelming flood of emotions.

His lips twitch into a small smile, weak but real, easing the lingering ache in my heart. He grunts softly, his voice raspy.

“Only to remind me where my place is,” he replies.

His familiar dry humor pulls a soft, shaky laugh from me, fragile and fleeting, but it’s there. For this brief moment, with his breath steady and his eyes alive, it feels as though the world has granted us a fragile, precious reprieve.

But then, just as quickly, everything shatters .

“Well, well… she really is a powerful witch, isn’t she?”

Vanessa.

I turn—and meet Vanessa’s stare. She’s still standing there, her twisted smile spreading into something far darker, far more sinister.

It reeks of malice, of a brokenness that defies redemption.

My gaze snaps to Casper, and the look in his eyes shakes me to my core.

It’s knowing—an unflinching certainty that cuts through the chaos.

My magic surges again, twisting and writhing like a living thing. It spills from me in waves of shadow and ice, darkening the air around us. My eyes lock on her, and I feel the shift as my vision darkens, the whites of my eyes swallowed in black. Her grin falters.

Slowly, I lift my hand, the movement calculated and cold, and a shadow peels from the darkness around me.

It snakes toward her, wrapping around her throat with a grip as merciless as it is unrelenting.

Vanessa’s eyes widen, a hint of terror breaking through her defiance as the shadows curl around her.

She tries to move, to fight, but my grip tightens—mercilessly.

I don’t need to touch her. My magic is alive, feeding on the rage I’ve buried for so long.

It pulls at her, dragging her to the ground, then lifting her like a puppet by its strings.

“Now, what will I do with you?”

Each word falls from my lips heavy, consequential, final.

My magic coils tighter, wrapping around her throat like a promise whispered in the dark.

She grinds her teeth, a desperate, grating sound, but I don’t flinch.

Her venomous gaze could burn me alive, but I feel nothing—only cold, relentless determination.

The power thrumming inside me swells, a dark pulse that drowns out all else.

It feeds on my resolve, transforming into something unrecognizable.

There is no room for pity, no space for mercy.

Not for her. Not anymore.

I step closer, my magic contracting around her as she struggles.

She’s weak now, her defiance cracking under the weight of me, of this.

She can’t escape. She can’t pretend anymore.

I feel the strength of my magic in my veins, an all-consuming force that grows with every breath I take.

Vanessa tries to speak, but only a gravelly gasp escapes her lips.

The sound is vacuous, stirring nothing in me but my resolve.

She’s done. I’m done —with her games, her lies, her manipulation, her constant need to rip everything apart.

I don’t notice Casper moving closer until his hand brushes mine. At the same time, Callum’s hand finds the other, his touch warm, steady, a reminder that I’m not alone.

I glance toward Casper, my breath hitching as I meet his eyes—steady, enduring, like the deep forest that feels both treacherous and safe.

They cut through the haze, anchoring me in a way that makes my heart stutter.

Gently, he wipes away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen, his touch so soft it feels like it shouldn’t belong in this moment of darkness.

“Come back to me.”

Confusion mingles with the fire inside me. Why do they want me to stop? Why can’t they see this is what has to be done?

Callum’s hand settles firmly over mine, his warmth bleeding into me, grounding me, even as my magic continues to surge.

His touch pulls me from the edge, yet I can still feel it raging within, threatening to consume us all.

I glance at Vanessa—gasping, her struggles growing fainter—and I feel like I should be satisfied.

But I’m not. Instead, the toll, the unbearable truth of what I’ve become in this moment, extinguishes my rage.

My breaths come in shallow gasps as I close my eyes, forcing myself to focus, to gather the fraying threads of my power and pull them back into myself.

My hands tremble violently, my fingers digging into the air as if clawing at something unseen, dragging the darkness back into the recesses where it belongs.

Each movement feels like lifting stone, my arms heavy, my entire body shaking with the effort.

Vanessa crumples to the ground, wheezing.

The hold I had on her dissolves, the oppressive force lifting as if the world can finally breathe again.

In the sudden quiet, I can feel my magic still thrumming beneath my skin, its presence quieter now but not gone.

It lingers, waiting, reminding me that it will never truly leave .

I stagger slightly, my legs unsteady beneath me, and it’s then that I notice Casper stepping closer.

His hand is warm as it cups my cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, guiding my gaze up to meet his.

His eyes hold mine, steady and deep, filled with a quiet sadness that cuts through the exhaustion and regret.

Slowly, he leans down, his lips brushing against mine in a fleeting kiss.

It’s a promise—a quiet assurance, a reminder that I’m still here, still whole, even as the remnants of my power linger.

For a moment, I let myself believe him, let myself breathe.

Before my knees give out, Callum is there, his strong arms wrapping around me.

He’s so warm, his embrace a shield against the cold emptiness I feel.

Casper’s lips press gently to the crown of my head before he speaks, his voice steady, yet heavy with concern.

“Take her somewhere far away from here,” he murmurs.

Casper looks at me one last time before Callum begins to move, tugging me gently away from the wreckage I’ve wrought. My eyes linger on Casper’s, the longing in his expression spurring a silent ache in my chest.

Callum’s hands are firm but careful as he lifts me onto Zander.

My body feels weightless, yet the knowledge of what I’ve done grates on me, pressing into every corner of my being.

Callum mounts behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist to steady me.

One hand holds me close, while the other grips the reins, guiding Zander forward.

As the destruction fades into the distance, the echo of my magic slips further away.

The power that burned so fiercely within me is gone, leaving behind a silent void.

I feel as if every part of me has been wrung dry.

I lean back into Callum’s chest, his heartbeat steady against my back.

His body bends to cradle mine, offering a fragile comfort that feels almost unreal.

My eyes grow heavy, the world around us blurring as exhaustion takes hold.

Then—I hear it.

A heartbeat. His heartbeat.