Page 60 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
“And yet, you found one,” I say, my voice quieter, more thoughtful.
Jason’s smile deepens, soft and disarming.
“I didn’t just find it, Lailah. I brought it to you. One evening. That’s all the time I had to track it, make the kill, and bring it back before dawn.” He pauses, his thumb brushing lightly against my side as his tone turns more serious. “But it was worth it, if it meant bringing you something no one else could.”
I glance back at the stag—its stillness, its majesty extinguished—and I wonder whether I am meant to feel grateful, or simply hunted. His words hang in the air, carrying a quiet gravity that tugs at something deep inside me. I want to believe him. I want to let his words soothe the ache in me, to prove he’s still the boy he used to be, the one who could make me smile when the world felt unbearably heavy.
But her face—her burning gaze—lingers in my mind. A silent accusation. A reminder of truths neither of us dares to say aloud.
“For me?” I murmur, tilting my head to meet his gaze. The question is pointed, almost accusatory. “Was ittrulyfor me, Jason?”
He falters, the easy confidence in his smile cracking ever so slightly. His brow pulls together, faint confusion washing over his face.
“Of course it was for you,” he replies softly, his tone steady but uncertain, like he’s searching for the meaning behind my words.
I hold his gaze, searching for sincerity in his answer, but the girl’s piercing stare still pulls at me. My heart pounds as the words leave my lips.
“And what of her?”
Jason stiffens, his body going rigid against mine. His confusion deepens, his golden-brown eyes narrowing slightly.
“What are you talking about?” he asks cautiously, his tone soft but guarded.
"The servant." I keep my voice quiet, but no less firm.
I pause, letting my words settle in the heavy silence.
"The one who hasn’t stopped staring at us all evening. I saw the way she looked at you, Jason." I don’t let my eyes drift from his. "And I’ve seen the way you look at her."
His hand on my waist tightens just slightly, and for a breath, he looks like he might respond. But then he falters, clearly caught off guard.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says finally, carefully, as if to mask his lie.
I stop moving, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze fully. My voice drops, cold and cutting.
“How long have you been sleeping with her?”
The question lands like a thunderclap, shattering the delicate warmth in his tone. Jason’s face freezes, his eyes widening slightly as his lips part. No words come out. The expression on his face is a jumbled mess of surprise, guilt, and something else—fear, maybe.
“Lailah,” he finally manages, his voice low and strained, “it’s not what you think.”
“Not what I think?” My voice rises slightly, laced with anger and disbelief. “Then tell me, Jason, did I imagine the way her moans echoed in the secret stairwell while youfuckedher?”
The words strike like a blade, cruel and unforgiving. Jason’s face drains of color, his composure cracking. His eyes widen further, andfor a moment, he is utterly silent, caught between denial and the impossibility of a response.
His voice is barely a whisper when it comes.
“Lailah, please,” he says, almost pleading.
“Don’t” I cut him off, my voice trembling but firm.
His eyes search mine desperately, his mouth opening as if to speak, but every second of silence only fuels the storm raging inside me.
“There is nothing between us. I swear it,” he says at last, his voice softer, gentler.
“Careful, Jason,” I whisper, my voice trembling with restrained anger. “You’ve lied to me more than once. But to swear it? That’s something else entirely.”
Jason’s lips press into a thin line, his jaw clenching as he exhales slowly through his nose.
