Page 158 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
“I’m only telling you this because of her,” he continues, his tone softening.
My eyes narrow slightly, as I remain silent.
“That’s why I started sleeping with Celaena,” Jason admits, his jaw tightening as the words leave him. “My father—he told her once, after a council meeting, that he would kill anything or anyone that wasn’t mortal. He said it with such conviction. And Celaena… she told me, thinking I believed in his twisted ideology, thinking I’d laugh it off with her.”
He pauses, his fists clenching at his sides.
“She thought it was a joke, but Iknewbetter. Lailah might be mortal, but he doesn’t see her that way. He sees her as something else. Something…monstrous.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and oppressive. I feel the familiar coil of anger tighten in my chest, but I force myself to stay calm. Jason’s eyes meet mine again, searching for some kind of understanding. I nod slowly, letting the gravity of his words settle. Malachi shifts slightly beside me, his gaze fixed on Jason, but he doesn’t speak.
We all know what this means—what it could mean for Lailah if Clyde or Sarris gets their hands on that stone.
Jason takes a deep breath, his posture stiff as he continues.
“My father is meeting with Sarris the day after tomorrow. They’ve been planning this for weeks. He’s going to take a small human guard with him this evening to ride west, toward the mountains.”
“Why west?” Malachi finally speaks.
Jason hesitates, his expression conflicted.
“That’s where they think the entrance to the stone’s resting place might be. They’ve been narrowing it down for years, and now… they think they’ve found something.”
“Is he bringing you with him?” I ask, my tone clipped.
Jason nods.
“He asked me to come,” he says, his voice tight with resignation.
I glance at Malachi, then back at Jason.
“You’re going,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. “Ifyou’re with him, you’ll be our eyes and ears. You’ll find out everything.”
Jason’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue.
“I’ll go,” he says after a moment, his voice hesitant. “But if this goes wrong… if he finds out?—”
“He won’t,” I cut him off, my voice firm. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t. But you have to stick to the plan. No risks, no heroics. Just get the information and get out.”
Jason looks at me for a long moment, his expression hard to read.
“Forher.”
Jason stiffens, his frustration almost tangible as he glances back at me and Malachi. His eyes dart between us, nimble and searching. I think he might say something, but instead, his lips press into a hard line, his jaw clenching tightly before he turns toward the tent flap.
Just as he reaches for the opening, the flap moves, and Callum steps inside. The two of them lock eyes, and the anticipation in the air intensifies. Jason freezes, his face twisting with open disdain. He doesn’t bother to hide it—his loathing for Callum is written in every rigid line of his body, in the way his nostrils flare and his fists curl slightly at his sides. But Callum, ever the master of provocation, tilts his head with that maddening look, his eyes glinting like molten metal in the firelight.
Jason’s lips curl, and for a second, I think he might actually take the bait. But then he exhales through his nose, exasperated, shaking his head as if forcing himself to let it go.
“Stay out of my way,” he mutters, each word like a dagger aimed at Callum.
Callum shrugs, his smirk never wavering. Jason spares one more glance over his shoulder—at me, then Malachi. His expression is a storm of anger and frustration. Then, without another word, he steps past Callum, letting the tent flap snaps shut behind him, leaving an echo of unease in his wake.
Callum watches him go before he turns his attention to me.
"Well," he says lightly, "someone’s in a mood."
The tent is silent now, the remnants of Jason’s departure stilllingering like an uninvited guest. I remain where I am, staring at the fabric walls as if they hold answers I can’t grasp. The hunger inside me is relentless, clawing at my insides like a beast desperate to break free.
