Page 92 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
He sits back, narrowing his eyes as he considers the possibilities. The suspense in the room builds, but I don’t look away. Finally, he sighs audibly, his decision made.
“I want you to stay close to him,” Clyde says. “I want to know what Striden and his son are hiding.”
My brow furrows as I study him.
“We are to depart tomorrow, as per your orders,” I remind him, calm but pointed.
Clyde’s lips twitch into a faint smirk, one that cuts deeper than any blade. “Don’t tell me you’re eager to leave, Ghost,” he says.
“I’m eager to get away from the vampire court,” I reply with a dry laugh, each word betraying far more truth than I should probably reveal.
Clyde chuckles, the sound low and rasping, as if my frustration is a source of endless entertainment.
“Of course you are,” he mutters, his grin lingering as he takes another sip of his drink. Then his expression shifts again, his tone shifting as he tilts his head. “Where is your pretty guest?”
His question is baited, his smile widening, almost predatory as he studies me. He raises his glass to his lips, taking a slow sip while his eyes remain fixed on mine, waiting. I mirror his motion, lifting my own glass and letting the amber burn its way down, steadying me for the conversation I know is coming.
“She ispretty, isn’t she?” I reply, the smirk on my lips matching his, a silent challenge hanging in the air.
Clyde chuckles under his breath as though he finds private enjoyment in my words. He doesn’t respond right away, instead swirling the liquid in his glass as his gaze drifts to the fire. Finally, he speaks, his voice smooth and measured.
“I’m going to suggest that Jason and my sweet take their leave for a honeymoon.”
The muscles in my jaw tighten instinctively, and I force myself to keep my expression neutral. Clyde rises slowly, crossing the room to pour himself another drink. The sound of liquid splashing against crystal fills the room, loud in the stillness.
“And what more fitting way to spend their honeymoon,” he continues, his tone taking on an edge of mockery, “than on the far side of our eastern borders, in Striden territory.”
I narrow my eyes at him, a tightness coiling in me that I can’t suppress. Clyde turns to me like a predator about to pounce.
"You want them to travel with us?" I ask, my tone dry, frustration blooming beneath the surface.
“We can’t afford to stop our search for the stone,” he says. “And I don’t trust Jason or Striden to do what’s best for us without…oversight.”
His gaze hardens as he takes a sip of his drink.
“What better way to kill two birds with one stone than to have you be myghost? You’ll keep an eye on them both.”
I stare at him, my fist clenching at my sides as a flood of unwanted images rushes through my mind. The thought of Jason touching her, of their voices tangled in whispers and moans under the same stars that hang over our camp—it makes my stomach twist. The rage is suffocating, and I force myself to speak before it consumes me.
“You want me towatchthem,” I say flatly, my voice colder than I mean it to be.
“Exactly.” Clyde’s smile deepens, satisfaction glinting in his eyes. “You’ll go wherever they go. You’ll see what Striden and Jason are hiding. I want a report, Ghost, and I want it thorough.”
My throat tightens, the images refusing to leave. The idea of trailing them, of hearing her laugh with him, of seeing her smile meant for him—it’s too much. I force my gaze back to Clyde.
“And if they’re hiding nothing?”
Clyde chuckles again, downing the rest of his drink.
“They’re hiding something. They always are.” He sets the empty glass down with a firm clink, his eyes narrowing. “You taught me that, Ghost. Everyone has secrets. What isyours?”
I take a slow breath, forcing the tightness in my chest to remain hidden, though it grows with every second that passes. I manage to keep my voice steady, my words controlled.
“When would you like us to depart?” I ask, betraying nothing of the fire raging beneath. It’s a twisted game Clyde is playing, and I can feel the strings he controls binding me to a role I can’t escape.
Clyde’s grin widens, the predator in him showing as he savors the moment.
“By week’s end,” he says casually, swirling his drink like he’salready won. His eyes gleam as they drift back to the fire, the flames reflecting his satisfaction.
