Page 78 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
With measured steps, he begins to approach the table, the woman trailing beside him, her smile still plastered on her face like a victory only she thinks she’s earned.
My stomach tightens as he moves closer, and I can’t look away. My father watches Casper approach with a keen grin, his pale eyes gleaming as he leans back in his chair, lifting his goblet to his lips.
“Ah, Ghost, so good of you to join us,” he drawls, his voice cutting effortlessly through the hum of the room.
A pause, then a pointed glance at the woman at Casper’s side.
“I was beginning to think you were keeping this delightful companion all to yourself. I had hoped to find some time to get to know her better.”
Laughter ripples through the crowd, low and indulgent, as if they’re all in on some private joke.
Vanessa smiles, tilting her head as though basking in the attention. Her fingers brush against Casper’s chest, the gesture light but deliberate, designed to declare him as hers in front of everyone.
“Your Grace,” she purrs, her tone sweet and syrupy, “I’m flattered. But I fearGhostmight not be willing to share.” She glances up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Casper’s remains composed as his hand slides to the back of her neck.
“Not willing to share?” he repeats, his voice low. “Perhaps. But only because I take care of what’s mine.”
The room hums with approval, scattered murmurs and soft laughter following his words. Every subtle motion from him, every touch, unsettles me. I force myself to sit still, my hands clasped tightly in my lap beneath the table.
My father chuckles, clearly entertained. He swirls his goblet lazily, his eyes settling on Vanessa.
“Oh, Ghost,” he says, his voice low and mocking, “you sound so sure of yourself. But everyone tires of their toys eventually. Isn’t that right, Vanessa?”
His words are a challenge, an attempt to unnerve, and the crowd laps it up, their eyes darting between Casper and my father like spectators at a duel.
Casper doesn’t rise to the bait, not directly. Instead, he tilts his head, his grip on Vanessa’s neck tightening ever so slightly. His lips curve into a wry smile that carries just enough heat to feel like a slap in the face.
“Perhaps,” he says, his voice soft yet cutting, “but you see… she is all I have ever desired.”
The words hit me like a blow. The room falls silent, save for the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. Then, in a move so calculated it feels like a declaration, Casper turns Vanessa toward him, his hand sliding from her neck to cradle her jaw.
“And I never let go of what’s mine,” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower, dripping with possession.
Without hesitation, his lips crash against hers in a kiss that shatters the quiet. It’s unapologetic, a moment so steeped in desire it feels almost nauseating. Vanessa melts into him instantly, her hands clutching at the fabric of his coat, desperate to hold onto him. His mouth dominates hers, his movements fierce and possessive, as if claiming her completely.
I can’t breathe.
The air in the room feels too thick, every sound muffled beneath the thunderous roar in my ears. My gaze locks on them, unwilling and unable to look away, my body burning with something harsh and unrelenting. His other hand slides to her waist, gripping her tightly as she arches against him, her body pressing flush to his as though she can’t get close enough.
Vanessa’s soft gasp breaks the air, barely audible over the heavy silence. Casper deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping over hers with an intensity that makes the crowd hold its collective breath. His hand tightens at her waist, pulling her even closer, their bodies aligned in a way that feels too intimate for a public display. The knot in my stomach tightens painfully, twisting with each second that passes.
When he finally pulls back, Vanessa’s lips are red and swollen, her chest rising and falling as she stares up at him like he’s the only thing in the room. But he doesn’t stop. His lips trail down her jaw, slow and sensual, before brushing over the delicate curve of her neck. My breath catches as his fangs glint briefly in the candlelight.
And then he sinks them into her skin.
The gasp that escapes Vanessa’s lips is followed by a low, breathy moan that cuts through me like a knife. He pulls her back against his body, his hand splaying across her stomach to keep her in place as she grinds against him, her movements slow and desperate, as if she’s utterly lost in him. My chest tightens further, the ache unbearable as I watch the way her body molds to his, every inch of her surrendering to him.
His eyes flutter shut as he drinks, his jaw working steadily, eachmovement controlled. Vanessa’s head falls back against his shoulder, her lips parted as soft sounds escape her, her entire body trembling in his hold.
Vampires don’t drink from another unless they mean to claim them; it is intimate—undeniably so—and never a choice made lightly. I’ve lived my entire life surrounded by that truth, seen it enacted in darkened corners and candlelit halls, witnessed the way blood and silence and heat tangle together. And through all of it, I remained untouched. Unmoved. I never wanted it. Never needed it.
But now—watchinghim…
His mouth at her throat, his hands anchoring her as if letting go would undo him—something inside me fractures. This isn’t hunger. It isn’t performance. It’s an unforgiving vow, offered in full view like she belongs to him and always has.
And I sit there, breath caught somewhere between ribs that no longer feel like my own, while something unbearable begins to unravel in me. It’s not just jealousy. Not even rage. It’s grief—for the wanting I never let myself feel, for the touch I never imagined craving, for the intimacy I never believed I deserved.
