Page 94 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)

CASPER

M y jaw clenches, teeth grinding against my rising agitation, as my gaze locks onto Vanessa.

Her eyes dart between Gwyn, Alias, Malachi, and then settle on me, keen and calculating.

Slowly, she rises, the burns from Lailah’s magic still raw against her skin.

She stands tall, defiant, but I see the weariness in her, the strain beneath the hardened exterior.

Her eyes seek something in me—something she expects me to understand.

“I came because you hadn’t fed...” Her voice is soft, coaxing, as though her concern might erase the boundary I’ve drawn. “I came to help you.”

She steps toward me hesitantly, her presence cloying and unwelcome.

My hand moves instinctively to the dagger at my hip, the cold steel a quiet rejection of everything she is.

Her steps falter, her pulse quickening, but she presses on, her eyes clinging to mine with a desperation that turns my stomach.

“You came to help?” My voice is low, laced with disdain.

I take a step forward, moving toward her at a measured pace. She watches, uncertainty creeping into her eyes as she tries to gauge my intentions.

“You’ve been feeding off me—sinking your teeth in like you had a right to what was never yours,” I laugh coldly . “But you don’t know what it truly means to take , do you? Not really.”

Her breath catches, just barely.

“I want you to know what it feels like,” I say, my voice quiet but trembling with fury. “To be possessed. Dominated. Drained. I want you to feel what it’s like to have someone take from you without your consent.”

I sheathe the dagger and step closer, reaching for her.

My touch at first tender, brushing the soft curve of her cheek.

It’s fleeting, a whisper of warmth, but before she can lean into it, the gentleness evaporates and fury replaces it— a tidal wave crashing against the fragile calm.

In an instant, my hand is at the back of her neck, pulling her into me.

“You came to help?” I repeat, a trace of mockery in my voice. “Good. Then you won’t mind if I help myself.”

I sink my fangs deep into her throat, the blood filling me not to quell my hunger, but to achieve something darker—a desperate, vengeful satisfaction.

There is no frenzy, no ravenous desire in this bite, only pain.

Only the need to assert, to dominate, to make her feel the weight of every wrong she’s ever caused.

As my fangs sink into her throat, the first taste of her blood is like a fire igniting within me.

It’s warm, thick, rich—a taste like iron and ash that floods my senses, and all I can do is lose myself in it.

The rush is immediate, a wave of power that surges through my veins, coating my soul in something dark and intoxicating.

Her pulse flutters beneath my tongue, weak and desperate, and I drink deeper, pulling in more of the life she so carelessly thought she could offer.

It’s not hunger that drives me—it’s something much more primal, more unforgiving.

Every drop is like a match to kindling, stoking the rage inside me, the relentless need to take.

The taste is bitter, metallic—yet there is a strange sweetness woven through it, a contradiction that mirrors the bitterness of my own existence.

I pull her closer, my grip tightening as I take more, savoring the warmth of her blood flooding my senses.

Each swallow is slow, torturous—an act of control, not frenzy.

I feel her life slipping away with every beat of her weakening heart, but it doesn’t matter.

I drink, because in this moment, I can, and she has given me no other choice.

Her breath grows ragged, strained beneath my touch, and I feel her body weaken in my arms. As I pull more blood into me, I taste the fear mingling with her lifeblood, burning and bitter.

It’s intoxicating. And yet, as her body goes limp, her warmth fading from my embrace, I feel no satisfaction, no hunger quenched.

Just a deep, cold emptiness—a hollowing out of something I didn’t even know I could feel.

The life within her fades, leaving only the hushed rhythm of her breath, shallow and struggling.

Gwyn’s hand touches my shoulder, her voice a soft murmur in the air.

“That’s enough, Cas...”

I pull away reluctantly, letting her body fall to the ground.

The taste of her blood still lingers on my tongue, a vile reminder of what I’ve become, what I’ve done.

I wipe the blood from my lips with the back of my hand, the act almost mechanical, and yet the taste of it stays with me—clinging to the corners of my mouth, coating my senses.

I turn to Alias, my eyes like steel as I speak through clenched teeth.

“Take her to my tent. Chain her. Gag her. Don’t feed her until I say.”

My words are cold—each one a command I force into the air.

I turn, boots thudding against the earth as I move quickly, my mind focused on the direction where I think Callum took her.

Not feeding Vanessa, not giving her the blood she craves, will leave her weak, silent, unable to fight.

A week without her voice will be a small reprieve—time to move her, time to lock her away in the palace dungeons, where she belongs.

The taste of her blood lingers like a heavy fog in the air. I feel the emotions still churning inside me—raging, untamed, nearly suffocating me with their intensity.

But then, a hand. Strong, steady, firm on my shoulder, grounding me.

I freeze, the heat of my fury dulling momentarily as I turn to find Malachi’s gaze.

He doesn’t speak—he doesn’t have to. The quiet understanding in his eyes is enough.

He sees it, the darkness I’m trying to suppress, the edge I’m barely holding back.

I exhale slowly, pulling myself together before turning to the others.

“Gwyn, go with him.”

Alias crouches, hoisting Vanessa’s limp body onto his shoulder with a dramatic grunt. As Alias and Gwyn disappear with Vanessa, Malachi stays behind. He steps closer, his face twisted with concern.

“You’re pushing yourself too far,” he says finally.

I glance at him, the edge of my temper still smoldering.

“It’s not me you should be worried about.”

Malachi’s eyes narrow, and his jaw tightens.

“Lailah used too much. You felt it. That kind of power—it doesn’t come without a cost.”

“I know.”

The mention of her name makes me ache, and I force myself to stay steady.

“She’ll recover,” I say, though the words feel fragile, as if spoken more to convince myself than him.

“She has to,” Malachi replies, firm but quiet. “If she doesn’t, all of this was for nothing.”

I nod, letting his words settle over me. Neither of us moves, the silence heavy.

Finally, I turn toward the direction Callum had taken her.

“I need to see her,” I murmur, my voice more resolute than I feel.

Malachi doesn’t respond, but his hand brushes my shoulder again briefly, a silent acknowledgment. Then he steps back, fading into the shadows as I move forward. The mess we’ve gotten ourselves into is draining.

But I can’t stop. Not yet. Not until this is over. Not until I see her.

The forest stretches wide, its canopy thick enough to offer a reprieve from the sun’s merciless reach.

Still, golden rays pierce through the cracks, glittering like daggers intent on finding their mark.

I pull my cloak tighter, tilting the hood to better shield my face.

Even here, surrounded by towering trees, the sunlight burns faintly against my skin, a warning I dare not ignore.

The heat is almost unbearable. The cloak traps it, wrapping me in layers of misery, but there’s no other choice.

Callum would have done as I told him—he’d have taken her somewhere hidden, somewhere safe.

He’d protect her with his life if it came to that.

But even knowing this, I can’t quell the gnawing unease clawing at me.

The river is close now; I can feel its presence in the air.

Damp and cool, it cuts through the heat like the first exhale after drowning.

There’s a cave I remember, carved into the cliffs along the water’s edge, dark enough to keep them safe and secluded.

It’s where I would go. Callum must have thought the same.

Branches scrape against my cloak as I push forward. I move quickly and carefully, my senses tuned to every sound, every shift in the air.

If someone found them— no.

I won’t let myself entertain the thought. The river comes into view, its waters gleaming under the sun like molten silver. I keep to the shadows, following the bank as the sound of rushing water grows louder. The cave entrance will be near, hidden among the jagged rocks and overgrown vines.

Stepping onto the rocks, their edges biting into the soles of my boots, I find the cave hidden beneath a veil of vines and overgrown moss.

My eyes, sharpened by shadow, struggle now to adjust to the deep darkness ahead.

The lingering brilliance of the day sears the edges of my vision, making the blackness seem thicker, deeper, as if the cave resents the intrusion of light.

I take a slow breath and step forward, letting the cool, damp air embrace me. The firelight flickers faintly ahead. As my sight finally adjusts, I see them.

Callum sits near the center of the cave, his broad frame hunched protectively over Lailah.

A small fire burns at his side, its warmth doing little to stave off the unnatural chill that clings to the air.

Lailah rests her head in his lap, her body curled into itself, trembling as if caught in the heart of winter.

Her cloak and Callum’s are draped over her, yet she shakes as though the world outside weren’t bathed in the harsh, relentless sun of early fall.

I step closer, careful not to disturb the fragile peace between them. Callum’s hand moves with an unexpected tenderness, brushing back the loose strands of her hair, his fingers combing through it as though the motion itself could shield her from whatever storm she’s weathering.

It’s strange, this side of him. Callum doesn’t protect. Callum doesn’t care. Yet here he is, his every move reverent.

Lailah is different . She always has been.

When I reach them, I lower myself to one knee beside her, my fingers brushing against her forehead.

Her skin is like ice, the kind of cold that sinks into your bones.

A low hiss escapes me, though I stifle it before it grows louder.

She doesn’t stir. Her magic must have drained her, the cost of whatever power she’s wielded leaving her fragile and spent.

Callum looks up at me then, his face illuminated by the firelight.

There’s something in his expression—concern.

It’s not an emotion I’m accustomed to seeing on him, and for a second, it unsettles me.

Callum, who would tear down the world for what he desires, now looks at Lailah with a care that seems almost sacred.

I shrug off my cloak without hesitation, draping it over her slender frame. The added weight should help to hold in the fire’s faint warmth. I settle beside them, relieved now that I’m near her, now that I can see she’s breathing.

“What are your orders?” Callum asks, his voice low but steady.

I meet his gaze, my eyes searching the face of the man who has stood with me through battles, betrayals, and bloodshed. Callum, my closest friend—my brother in all but name. The reality of almost losing him today settles like a stone in my chest, heavy with the memory of my own recklessness.

Vanessa’s name burns in my thoughts, a bitter brand.

If not for Lailah, if she hadn’t intervened in that crucial moment, Callum would be gone.

The realization coils in my gut, anger and guilt twisting together like a blade turning in the wound.

I force myself to look away, to bury the storm of emotions out of necessity.

The fire is low, its glow weak. I crouch beside it, feeding it more kindling, coaxing the flames higher as if their heat could burn away my failure.

“Jason will move ahead with his father,” I murmur, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me.

The plan takes shape as I speak, words forming around the urgency of our circumstances.

But even as I speak, my thoughts drift to her.

Lailah . Her face pale, her body trembling beneath the weight of exhaustion and magic.

She is fragile now in a way that feels unbearable to witness.

Her strength, so constant, feels distant, and the sight of her like this gnaws at something deep within me. She cannot move. She cannot leave.

“She stays here,” I say finally, the decision solidifying like iron cooling in a forge. “I’ll stay with her until she’s strong enough to move.”

My gaze shifts to Callum, who remains quiet and inexpressive in the firelight. Reluctance holds me briefly, the next words bitter on my tongue.

“When night falls, you’ll go with him. Find the information we need about the stone and bring it back to me.”

His nod is slight, but it’s enough. Our unspoken bond holds firm, though the gravity of it is not lost on either of us.

For now, though, we’ll remain here. For now, the rest of the world can wait.

I’ll guard her through this darkness, no matter what it takes, until she’s ready to face the light again.

The world beyond this cave will move forward without me, without her.

Let it.