Page 105 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
“Believe it or not, Lailah,” he says, his voice low, quiet like an oath, “I will always protect you. Even if it means standing between you and the king.”
The words land with quiet force.
It isn’t fear that rises in me—it’s the ache of something far more unfamiliar, something quieter and more dangerous: the feeling of being protected without expectation, without demand, without strings. Clyde doesn’t believe in love, or in loyalty without leverage; he believes in obedience, in power, in control so absolute that even the intimacy of a marriage bed becomes a weapon, a proof of ownership—and if he knew that Jason and I were not sharing one, he would see it not as grief, but as failure, as weakness, as something to correct. And yet, Jason said nothing.
“Thank you,” I murmur, forcing my voice steady. “For not telling him.”
Jason’s hand falls away, but his gaze stays steady.
“It’s no one’s business but ours,” he says gently. “Not even his.”
Relief washes over me as I tilt my head, studying him.
“You probably expected to be sharing a bed with your wife when you agreed to this marriage.”
His expression shifts.
“I want your heart more than your body, Lailah.”
The words resound like a vow as his hand rises again, his fingers grazing the curve of my ear with a tenderness that steals the breath from my lungs.
“You know how much I love your cute little ears?” he says, his voice soft but teasing, his eyes watching me carefully.
I almost laugh, but something in his expression stops me. He’s not joking—at least not entirely.
“What are you searching for, wife?” Jason’s voice is softer now, but unrelenting. The question hangs heavily between us. I can’t ignore it.
I freeze, his gaze pinning me in place.
“I’m not sure,” I say quietly, though the words feel like a lie even as they leave my lips.
I can’t tell him the truth—that I’m here, buried in books, searching for answers to words etched on another man’s dagger. The gravity of that secret presses against me, shame bubbling under the surface. Perhaps it’s not just the lie that stirs this unease, but the deeper truth I can’t escape: that he is the one desire I crave most, the one I shouldn’t want but can’t deny.
Jason tilts his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“When you figure it out,” he says, his tone steady. “You know where to find me.”
He begins to step away, but before he fully turns, I call out, my voice soft yet cutting through the silence.
“And where is that?”
Jason pauses mid-step, his shoulders stiffening before he glances back at me. His gaze meets mine, steady and unguarded, the usual glint of levity in his eyes replaced by something deeper.
“Wherever you want me to be,” he says quietly, his tone serious but laced with a softness that feels disarming.
Jason’s eyes linger on mine, a spark of mischief lighting them as he steps closer and leans slightly forward.
“Where do you want me to be, Lailah?” he asks, his voice low, smooth, and undeniably teasing.
I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I reply, “Not here.”
He tilts his head, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Fair enough. But if you do want me, all you have to do is stophidingfrom me.”
“I’m not hiding,” I counter, narrowing my eyes at him, though the slight curve of my lips betrays my amusement.
“No?” Jason leans back slightly, his gaze sweeping the room. His smirk deepens as his eyes find a shadowed corner of the library.
