Page 33 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
“Do you love me?” A soft moan punctuates the pause, her voice trembling as she continues, “Not her?”
My chest tightens, the ache unrelenting, anger simmering beneath it. My gloved hands press against the stone wall as I lean forward, caught in the sickening pull of dread and anticipation.
Jason slows, savoring the moment. He lifts her effortlessly, pressing her against the wall, his lips trailing along her neck before capturing her mouth in a kiss that appears both possessive and final. When he speaks, his voice is low, flat, devoid of tenderness.
“She pales in comparison to you,” he mutters, the words an accusation rather than a compliment.
My breath falters, the rejection cutting deeper than I imagined. Anger surges, hot and consuming with a raw and bitter undercurrent. To him, I am nothing more than a duty, a pawn in a game I never agreed to play.
The tightness in my chest grows unbearable as the sounds linger. My steps are heavy as I leave, each footfall a reminder of the weight I carry. The castle feels colder now, the shadows deeper, as though they too have turned against me. I press my hand to the stone wall and summon a portal, its violet glow flickering to life. I step through, letting the magic tug me back into the solitude of my bedroom. The portal closes behind me, and I collapse against the cold stone, my body trembling with the storm of emotions inside.
The first hints of dawn filter through the curtains, soft and unyielding. I take a shaky breath, trying to gather the shattered pieces of myself. The walls, the door, the air around me—they should offer solace, but instead, they magnify the isolation.
Outside, rain begins to tap softly against the window. Everything feels heavy—my limbs, my head, the air itself. I drag my feet across the room, my dress clinging to my skin like a shroud. I strip it off with trembling hands, letting it fall to the floor with the heels that have already bruised my feet. The cold air bites at my skin as I collapse onto the bed, sinking into the cool satin sheets.
But the second I close my eyes, my thoughts refuse to quiet. Images of the tryst I just witnessed flash behind my eyelids—cutting deeper with every turn. The sound of their moans, the way her hand brushed his arm, the way Jason looked at her like she was the only person in the world. The betrayal gnaws at the edges of my sanity. I press my face into the pillow, willing it all to disappear, but it’s useless. It lingers, swirling like a storm that won’t settle.
A single tear slips down my cheek, and I wipe it away furiously, as though punishing myself for being weak.I am stronger than this.I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force the images back, but they refuse to leave. All of it feels like a dagger twisting inside me.
I know what it feels like to be wanted by him. There was a time when his gaze made me feel like the most precious thing in the world. His touch had carried a kind of reverence, as though I was something he both desired and needed. But now… now it feels like a lie, a cruel illusion crafted to keep me close. I trusted the warmth in his eyes, but how can I trust it now when I’ve seen him look atherthe same way?
Jason’s face fades, blurring at the edges as another memory pushes forward, unbidden. Green eyes flash vividly in my mind, and I feel the pull of that night in the tavern.
I can still hear Casper’s voice, steady and low, dark and intimate. I remember the way his gaze held mine—not filled with expectations like Jason’s, but with something raw and untamed. He had looked at me like he sawme, not the witch, not Clyde’s daughter, not a piece in someone’s scheme. Justme.
In that moment, I had felt something I hadn’t even realized I was starving for: to be seen, to bewanted.
The intensity of it had shaken me, made me feel vulnerable in a way that frightened me. Yet, even now, that feeling lingers, a quiet ache that refuses to let go.
The image of his face, his lips, the way he had leaned in, just a breath away—plays in my mind like a haunting melody. I try to push it aside, but my thoughts don’t relent. I see myself stepping closer, my hands tracing his collarbone, his breath warm against my cheek. His hands pull me in closer until there’s nothing left but the thrum of our heartbeats.
But then doubt creeps in, like a shadow slipping into the light. It curls around the memory, twisting it until it begins to blur, melting like smoke carried off by the wind. The warmth fades, and I feel a stab of uncertainty.What if Casper has someone else?The thought grips me, sinking deeper as it takes root. Jason had looked at me with that same warmth, had held me as though I were the only thing that mattered—and yet, he still found another.
The rain continues to fall steadily against the windows, a soft percussion that mirrors the ache in my chest. I sink deeper into thesheets, resting my head on my gloved hands. The cool fabric offers no comfort. Tears slip down my cheeks freely now, unbidden, the satin beneath me drinking them in. Pain rises, all-consuming, and I lash out without thinking. My magic surges through the room, dark and volatile, shadows smothering the fire and unfurling like sails to block the light from the window, leaving the chamber shrouded in black.
I lie back against the pillows, my breath shallow and uneven. Slowly, I pull off my gloves, one finger at a time, exposing the scars to the chilled air. Magic stirs in my palms, restless and wild, as I lift my hands and conjure an illusion above me. A night sky unfolds against the ceiling, stars twinkling faintly in the inky blackness. Their fragile light feels distant yet intimate, unjudging in a way that no gaze ever could be.
Only the stars understand—their brilliance fleeting, destined to fall into the void. I watch them, yearning for their descent, regarding their shimmering dance as if it could quiet the storm within me. Their movements lull me, holding my focus until my eyes grow heavy and the rain outside becomes a distant hum.
When sleep finally finds me, it pulls me into dreams of dark green eyes—Casper’s eyes. They are vivid, piercing, impossible to escape. His intensity draws me in, comforting and tormenting in equal measure. I reach for him, drawn by the silent truths and unspoken promises that seem to linger in the air. But the dream begins to twist, shifting beneath me like the earth giving way.
The green eyes remain, but the gaze turns predatory. Casper’s face becomes clearer now, his figure leaning into someone—Celaena. Her golden hair cascades over her shoulders, catching the light in waves that almost mock the darkness surrounding them. Her lips curve into a smile, sly and taunting, and her eyes lock onto mine even as a moan escapes her parted lips.
I can’t move, can’t breathe as I watch Casper’s hands on her, gripping her waist with the same intensity as I once imagined him holding me. The space between them vanishes, his lips brushing against her neck, her laughter low and sultry as she tilts her head togrant him access. The sound of her moans echoes in my ears, each one cutting deeper.
Celaena's smile widens, her gaze unwavering as she meets my eyes across the dream’s blurred distance. The triumph in her expression is undeniable, her voice dripping with satisfaction.“Did you really think you were the only one?”she seems to say without speaking.
Casper doesn’t look at me, doesn’t see me. He’s lost in her, and the air grows colder, the chasm wider. My magic stirs restlessly, but in the dream, it falters, refusing to obey me. I am powerless to stop it. Powerless to change what I’m seeing.
I wake with a start, gasping for breath as the dream lingers, cruel images playing over and over in my mind. The rain’s soft patter feels deafening in the heavy silence of the room. I press my palms into the mattress, my body trembling as if I’d physically endured what I had just seen.
The stars I conjured above me have long faded, and the room is shrouded in darkness. Yet, the vivid memory of the dream remains—Celaena's mocking smile, her hair, Casper’s hands on her, the sound of her moans all claw at my mind, feeding the doubt that already gnaws at me. I curl my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms as I try to shake the images loose.It was just a dream.But dreams don’t pull at the truth like this unless they’ve already found cracks to burrow into.
I feel caged, trapped by the suffocating stillness of the room. My body aches to move, to run, to dosomethingthat will burn the restless energy clawing at my insides. The storm in my head needs a release. Sitting here, letting my thoughts consume me, feels unbearable. The need to escape, to quiet the chaos within me, grows louder with every passing second.
Finally, I rise from the bed and fling open the wardrobe, searching for something less constraining than the gown Sera had laced me into the night before. My hands find a pair of fitted black pants and a loose linen tunic. I pull them on quickly, tucking the tunic into the waistband before fastening a thick leather belt around my waist. I pause just long enough to secure my dagger at my side—silent, familiar, necessary. My black boots follow, their weight grounding me as I tie the laces with trembling fingers. Then, almost without thinking, my fingers find the gloves—soft leather, worn smooth with time. I slip them on slowly, each one a silent barrier, not just against touch, but against the world itself.
The cloak comes last, its wool lining brushing against my skin as I fasten it tightly at my throat. It feels like a shield, protective and solid, as I move toward the balcony. The rain-soaked air lashes against my cheeks as I step outside, welcoming the chill that bites at my skin.
