Page 169 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
“She stays here,” I say finally, the decision solidifying like iron cooling in a forge. “I’ll stay with her until she’s strong enough to move.”
My gaze shifts to Callum, who remains quiet and inexpressive in the firelight. Reluctance holds me briefly, the next words bitter on my tongue.
“When night falls, you’ll go with him. Find the information we need about the stone and bring it back to me.”
His nod is slight, but it’s enough. Our unspoken bond holds firm, though the gravity of it is not lost on either of us. For now, though, we’ll remain here. For now, the rest of the world can wait. I’ll guard her through this darkness, no matter what it takes, until she’s ready to face the light again. The world beyond this cave will move forward without me, without her.
Let it.
38
LAILAH
The crackle of the fire pulls me from the haze of dreams and into the chill that has clung to me since Callum carried me here. My body aches with a bone-deep exhaustion, and as I blink away the sleep, my first thought is ofhim. I move my hand, reaching instinctively for the solid presence I’ve come to rely on—but the warmth of Callum’s lap is gone.
My eyes dart around the cave, wide and panicked. The firelight casts shadows on the walls, the light playing tricks on my mind, but no one’s there. The emptiness is deafening. I try to rise, to stand on unsteady feet, but the world tilts, and I collapse back to my knees, my breath coming quick and shallow.
Before I can fall further, a hand catches me. It’s strong yet achingly gentle, wrapping around my arm. I look up and meet Casper’s steady, familiar gaze. His expression softens, his dimple carving into his cheek as his lips curve into a faint smile.
“Where is he?” My voice trembles.
The thought of losing Callum is unbearable. I need to see him, to know he’s breathing. Casper brushes his knuckles across my cheek, his touch both reassuring and maddeningly tender.
“He’s safe,” he murmurs. “He’s with Jason, making sure everythingruns smoothly. The others are at camp, keeping up the front—making it look like everything is fine. No one suspects anything.”
“We have to go back,” I whisper, shaking my head, unwilling to accept it. Panic stirs again, clawing up my throat. I try to stand, but the effort is futile. My knees buckle, and before I can hit the ground, Casper catches me, his hands steady as iron.
“No,” he says, his tone deepening. “You need to rest.”
“I don’t care—” I manage, my voice breaking as my body trembles beneath the strain. But then his hands rise to my face, cupping it, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Lailah,” he says, voice low and anchoring. “You’ve used too much magic. You’re in no shape to walk, let alone go anywhere.”
I sigh, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
“Trust me,” he says, and as I search his gaze, he adds softly, “I wouldn’t let anything happen to them. Or to you.”
The sincerity in his voice cuts through the chaos. For a breath, just one, the storm quiets. I inhale slowly… then nod. But the calm doesn’t last. Another thought surges forward, colder than the last.
“Where isshe?”
Casper’s silence is telling, and it feels like the cave itself holds its breath. The realization of what I’ve done—or nearly done—settles heavily on my shoulders. I glance at him again, searching for answers I’m afraid to hear.
“She won’t be a problem anymore,” he says finally, his voice as gentle as the touch that guides me back down.
Casper moves with purpose, laying out pillows and a bedroll before carefully tucking thick fur blankets over me. The scent of the fire and the damp cave mingle as I sink into the warmth, though the ache in my chest refuses to ease. He leaves my side for a moment, returning with a cup of steaming liquid.
“Drink,” he says, holding it out to me.
I reach for it, only to pause as my bare fingers brush his. Only then do I notice it—the blood. Faint smears still cling to my skin, dark traces from where my hands had pressed into Callum, forcing life back into his body. My eyes narrow slightly as I take a slow sip,the taste of honey and something floral warming me from the inside out.
He hands me a bowl next—steam curling up from the broth, rich with the scent of meat and potatoes. I take it without a word. I don’t realize how hungry I am until I’m eating, each bite sinking into the ache inside me like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. The warmth settles in my chest, but it does nothing for the chill pressing against my ribs.
Somehow, that’s what unlocks it.
My mind slips backward, dragged by a memory I’ve spent years trying to outrun. A barn—splintered wood, the sharp sting of smoke and dust—collapsing around me in a storm of my own making. I remember the heat of it, the way my magic tore through the air like a scream I couldn’t hold back. I was just a child.
But that never mattered.
