Page 97 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)

LAILAH

C asper gently shakes my shoulder, pulling me from the depths of sleep.

The world around me is still dark, the air cool and damp against my skin.

The cave’s musty scent surrounds me, and the rhythmic sound of the nearby river flows softly through the stillness.

I blink, disoriented, trying to decipher long shadows dancing across the cave walls.

His voice, soft yet firm, cuts through the fog of my sleep.

"Come with me," he murmurs. "I have something to show you."

Still groggy, I push myself up and follow his lead, my feet meeting the smooth stone beneath me.

The quiet darkness outside feels like a world apart from the wreckage I left behind.

The river hums beside us as we walk, the air carrying the scent of wet earth and cool mist. We move in silence, our footsteps and the soft trickle of water the only sounds.

Casper leads me into a clearing where the moonlight spills like liquid silver, illuminating the soft, velvety moss beneath our feet.

The air shivers with an unseen energy, and then, like tiny sparks igniting in the darkness, fireflies begin to emerge.

Their golden lights twinkle and swirl, weaving an intricate dance that feels almost otherworldly.

It’s as if the stars themselves have descended to join us, their glow pulsing in rhythm with the steady beat of my heart.

I stand frozen as the clearing comes alive around us.

The fireflies drift closer, their lights kissing my skin, tracing invisible paths in the cool night air.

Each tiny glow feels like a secret whispered into the night, wrapping us in a moment so pure, so impossibly alive, it feels as though the universe is watching.

Casper’s hand slides into mine, warm and steady, his touch grounding me as my senses swim in the magic unfolding around us. The world seems to hold its breath, the air laced with wonder.

“How did you find this?” I ask with a laugh.

Casper halts, turning toward me with a suddenness that steals my breath. Everything seems to still as his gaze locks onto mine—intense, searching, as though he’s trying to unravel something within me.

“Is everything okay?” I begin, but the words falter, dissolving into the quiet as his hands rise to cup my face. His touch is gentle yet electrifying, a warmth that floods through me and leaves no room for doubt.

Before I can say anything else, his lips find mine, and the world falls away. In that instant, nothing matters—just his touch, his presence, and the unrelenting pull drawing us closer.

The kiss is everything I remember—deep, passionate, real.

I let my lips part for him, and his tongue slides against mine in a dance that’s familiar, yet exciting.

A soft moan escapes me as I lean into him, his touch pulling me closer.

Casper’s hand circles my waist as his body presses against mine, and I feel his heartbeat thundering beneath my palm, the rapid pulse matching my own.

My senses swim, my breath growing shallow as I crave more of him, more of the connection we share.

After what feels like eternity, he pulls back, his lips brushing mine one last time, soft and teasing. My pulse races, my head spinning as I meet his gaze—dark green and magnetic, pulling me deeper .

“What was that about?” My voice trembles as I search his face for any clue to what he’s thinking.

His thumb brushes against my cheek, keeping his eyes locked on mine, and then he smiles—that damn dimple appearing, mischief flickering in his eyes.

“Your laugh,” he murmurs, his voice low, as if searching for the perfect words to follow.

But I don’t wait. Before he can continue, I rise onto my toes and press a soft kiss to his lips, my heart racing at the simplicity of the act, the warmth of the moment enveloping me.

Casper’s expression softens, the sharp edge of urgency still flickering in his eyes as his hands return to my face, pulling me into him once more.

This kiss is deeper than the last—urgent, bruising, and breathless, as if he’s pouring everything he can’t say into the press of his mouth against mine.

I melt into it, into him, the world around us falling away until there’s nothing left but the wild rhythm of our hearts and the warmth of his touch grounding me in a moment that feels too perfect to be real.

When he finally breaks the kiss, it’s not abrupt—it’s reluctant, slow, like he has to physically force himself to pull away.

He turns toward the fireflies then, his hand still brushing against mine, the simple touch saying everything words cannot.

We stand together in the hush of night, watching the small lights drift through the air like fragments of stars fallen just for us, their glow flickering across our skin in a quiet dance that feels otherworldly.

“Casper…” I whisper, my gaze fixed on the delicate patterns the fireflies trace across the dark, my voice soft, almost reverent, as if speaking any louder might shatter the fragile magic that surrounds us.

I don’t look at him right away—don’t need to. I feel the way his attention shifts to me, the weight of his stare warm and intense, as if he’s just as caught in this moment as I am, as if somehow, this stillness between us is everything he didn’t know he needed.

Then, without speaking, without asking, he takes my hand in his fully, the gesture slow and certain, his fingers curling around mine with quiet confidence, and before I can draw breath, before I can ask what he’s doing, he steps in front of me and lowers himself onto one knee.

His eyes never leave mine as he pulls me with him, gently guiding me down to the moss-covered earth, the ground cool and damp beneath us, but softened by the heat lingering between our palms and the fire still burning low in our chests.

He lies beside me then, his body close but not quite touching mine, and I follow his gaze upward.

Above us, the stars blink faintly through the canopy, scattered across the sky like secrets, while the fireflies continue their quiet dance around us—gliding, pulsing, brushing past skin with the gentlest flickers of light, like the night itself is breathing.

The air is cool and still, brushing across my skin like a sigh, but Casper’s presence beside me radiates warmth—quiet, steady, and constant, like gravity, like home.

“This is… incredible,” I whisper, the words barely audible, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

Casper turns his head, meeting my eyes in the dim glow, unspoken words lingering in the quiet. He reaches for my hand again, intertwining our fingers, and moves a little closer, pulling me gently into his side. His breath warms my skin as he kisses my temple softly.

"I wanted you to see this with me," he murmurs.

I turn to face him, wrapped in the intimacy of his touch like a soft, warm blanket.

"Thank you," I whisper.

“You’re welcome.”

His eyes soften as he gazes at me, an unspoken understanding passing between us, before his lips brush mine in another gentle kiss.

After a moment, I break the silence.

"Do you ever just sit out here and think about never going back?" I ask, my voice soft as I lay next to him, eyes still fixed on the stars above us.

Casper notices me shiver from the cool night air and gently pulls my cloak up around my arms .

“I don’t ever want to go back.”

He kisses my temple, and I intertwine my fingers with his, bringing his hand up around me. I lean into him, breathing in the scent of leather and sweetness that clings to him, determined never to forget it. I press a kiss to his hand, and he gently guides it to my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his

“I don’t want to give you back,” he says.

Confusion swells within me as I furrow my brows and reach for his cheek, my fingers brushing his skin as I study his eyes.

He leans in, kissing me gently, but it’s not just a kiss—it’s an expression of everything he’s held back.

His lips linger against mine, and I feel the pull of everything we’re not saying.

Drawing back, I look at him, my heart pounding.

“Then don’t.”

Casper leans forward on his elbow, his other hand gently brushing across my face.

His fingers skim my cheek, then trail down the length of my neck, his eyes following every movement.

Heat blooms beneath my skin as his hand glides down my arm, agonizingly slow, until his fingers slip between mine.

He lifts our joined hands above my head and shifts, his body now straddling mine, and I catch my breath.

We sit there, breathing in sync, the world fading away until it's just the two of us.

“Cas…” I whisper, barely audible.

He stills.

“Yes?” he replies, his voice strained, as if bracing for my words.

“Is this real?”

There’s a pause, heavy and seemingly endless, each second stretching longer than the last. Just as I wonder if he’s heard me, I feel his fingers brush my wrist, lingering on my scars.

He traces them slowly, reverently, as if they’re more than marks I’ve tried to forget. My pulse quickens beneath his fingertips, a stuttering rhythm I can’t control, and I freeze, unable to move, unable to tear my gaze away from his as his eyes meet mine.

It crashes into me all at once—tender, consuming, threaded with a depth that steals my breath. His gaze holds me there, unwavering and full of hunger, as if he sees every fractured part of me and still chooses to stay. Still chooses me .

Casper leans in, his lips brushing mine before he catches my bottom lip between his teeth, a gentle tug that elicits a soft whimper from me. I feel the shuddering of his breath against my skin—like he’s just as undone by this as I am.