Page 43 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
His eyes narrow ever so slightly, and I know he’s choosing his words carefully—or choosing not to speak at all. He lifts his gaze to mine, slow and deliberate, and I lift my chin in response, a challenge in the tilt. My silence is louder than any excuse.
He smiles, then steps forward, smooth as smoke.
“You know, if you wanted to know more about my blade, all you had to do was ask.”
Heat floods my cheeks before I can stop it. I bite my lip to stifle the embarrassment threatening to spill out, but I know he sees it. He always does.
“Who says I was thinking about you at all, even if it wasyourdagger?” I shoot back, stepping closer, tilting my head as I meet his gaze.
“Hmmm.” The sound rumbles from him, low and knowing, sending an unwelcome warmth rising through me.
Casper steps closer, scanning my face with a precision that makes my heart stutter. His proximity is unnerving. I open my mouth to question him, but the words catch in my throat as he moves suddenly.
With a swift motion, he pulls out a dagger—my dagger.
I forgot I left it behind in the forest. The breath leaves my lungs as I freeze, my gaze locked on the blade gleaming in the low light. Casper tilts his head slightly, holding it up in front of me.
A smile spreads across my face as I set the book down, reaching to grab the dagger from his hand. But Casper, quick as ever, pulls it just out of range. I try again, lunging forward, but he’s already a step ahead, too swift to be caught. Frustration flares inside me, but it’s smothered quickly by his playful, knowing grin. His eyes sweep over me again, sending a spark of heat to my cheeks.
“Are we playing again?” I ask, my voice dropping into a soft, teasing purr.
“Would you like me to play with you?”
A sly smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I clasp my hands behind my back. Casper holds the dagger loosely, his posture relaxed yet poised. I let the familiar thrum of dark magic course through me, hiding in plain sight. Slowly, I step closer, keeping my gaze locked on his.
When our eyes meet, I let mine drift briefly to his lips before biting my bottom lip, just enough to catch his attention. His jaw tightens, and I can feel the tension radiating from him. I close the distance, pressing my chest against his. His hand holding the dagger lowers slightly, distracted, as I lean in closer, my face just inches from his. The air between is almost electric, charged with unspoken possibilities.
And then, with a fluid motion, my magic surges. Silent and swift, it slips the dagger from his hand and into mine before he even realizes what’s happened.
The blade is now pressed against his neck.
Casper’s wicked smile widens, unbothered by the razor-sharp edge against his skin. If anything, it seems to amuse him. He leans into the blade ever so slightly, as if daring me, his gaze dropping briefly to my lips. His expression carries a reminder of the time he held a knife to my throat, and the memory stirs something between us.
I step back, keeping the dagger in place, feeling the heat of his hungry stare.
“We’re even now,Casper,” I say softly, satisfied.
Casper’s eyes follow my movements as I lower the dagger, brushing it against my thigh. I slide it gently into place along the slit of my dress, the blade resting against my bare skin. His gaze lingers, his expression shifting between curiosity and hesitation, as though he’s weighing the risks of his playful boldness.
A small smile plays on my lips, amused by the subtle deference in his gaze—or perhaps his attempt at caution around the Vampire King’s daughter.
I glance down, adjusting the fabric of my dress to hide the bladefrom view. As I lift my eyes again, ready to deliver another remark, I find the room empty.
He’s gone.
“Typical,” I laugh, shaking my head, the sound fleeting and brittle in the quiet of the library. Casper always has a way of vanishing without a word, leaving behind an air that unsettles and clings to me. The way his gaze lingered just now, his smirk pulling at the edges of something I can’t to name—stays with me, igniting a frustration that simmers within me. I turn back to the stack of books, trying to ground myself, but the bells suddenly cut through the stillness, low and heavy.
The chime reverberates through the castle, each mournful note dragging me back to reality. The engagement bells. A reminder of what tomorrow brings, of what I cannot escape. My hands hover over the books for a moment before unrelenting frustration boils over.
I rise abruptly, waving a hand through the air. The flames of the candles flicker before extinguishing, their light snuffed out all at once, leaving only the faint glow of embers from the hearth. The cold darkness wraps around me, mirroring the heaviness inside as I stride toward the stairwell.
The steps spiral upward, narrow and uneven. The weak light of the sconces along the walls does little to banish the oppressive gloom of the castle. My thoughts churn with each step, and I can think only of Jason.
The memory of him with her twists inside me. Those fleeting glances, those unspoken moments were things I dismissed as unimportant. But now I see it—the way their eyes found each other, drawn by a secret I wasn’t meant to know. He claims to care for me, to want this union, and yet he let her touch him in ways I thought only I could. He gave himself to someone else while speaking words of loyalty to me.
I clench my fists, my nails biting into my palms as if the pain might ground me. Anger rises, fierce and unrelenting, pulling me under.
How dare he try to stand beside me, to take my hand, after what he’s done?
