Page 80 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
The loud clang of a goblet meeting the table shatters my haze. I look up, startled, to find my father studying me.
“Something wrong, my sweet?” he asks, his tone pointed.
I force a small smile.
“Nothing at all,” I reply, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “Everything is as it should be.”
His lips curl faintly upward, but he doesn’t press further. Instead, he leans back in his chair, raising his goblet in a casual toast. I lower my gaze to my lap as the noise of the room grows louder, laughter and music drowning out the silence that rings in my ears.
Jason’s hand suddenly finds mine beneath the table, his touch warm and steady against the cold tension in my fingers. He doesn’t look at me, but his thumb brushes gently over the fabric of my glove, a silent reassurance that only deepens the ache in my chest.
I know I should rise and rejoin the crowd, but I can’t. Not yet.
Instead, I sit, petrified, forcing myself to breathe.
Jason’s hand tightens slightly, steadying me just enough to hold myself together. But the ache grows deeper with every passing moment. I push it down, burying it beneath the mask I’ve worn for so long. And as the music swells and the crowd moves, I let the facade settle back into place.
Everything is as it should be.
But for the first time, I wish it wasn’t.
16
CASPER
Vanessa trails behind me, her steps slow and unsteady, like a predator drunk on its kill. Her arousal hangs in the air, thick and cloying, mingling with the remnants of my bite. I can smell it as clearly as I can feel the lingering effects of her blood humming in my veins. It burns through me, a heady mix of heat and power that claws at my restraint, demanding more.
My fangs throb, still aching to sink into soft flesh, to take and take until the hunger fades. But it’s not Vanessa’s blood that lingers in my thoughts.
Lailah’s scent clings to me, faint but undeniable, cutting through the haze. That intoxicating mix of sweetness and bitterness—like ripe fruit laced with something acidic, something darker—has embedded itself in my senses. It isn’t just her scent, though. It’s the way her emotions hit me all at once, an overwhelming rush that no amount of distance can dull.
She looked betrayed.
That thought pierces through the lingering euphoria, carving away the edges of my high until all that’s left is the deep ache it leaves behind. I hadn’t dared to look at her, not directly.
But gods, I had felt her. Felt the silence between us tighten like anoose as Vanessa swayed into me, pressing her body against mine. I had felt the disbelief, the confusion, the jealousy tangled in her gaze. But beneath it all, there had been something else—something primal and impossible to ignore.
The sharp tang of it had hit me like a blow, mingling with the bitterness of jealousy until I could no longer separate the two. My senses are too attuned to every subtle tremor of her body’s betrayal. She couldn’t hide it. Not from me.
And that only made it worse.
Vanessa hums softly behind me, the sound low and sultry, savoring the remnants of her high. Her satisfaction radiates off her in waves, like a perfume too strong to ignore. The sway of her hips, the teasing way her fingers brush against her own neck, speaks volumes about how much she enjoyed the performance.
It was just a performance, I remind myself.
But the way Lailah looked at me makes it feel like anything but.
We reach the campgrounds, the flickering firelight casting long shadows across the tents. Alias and Gwyn’s voices rise and fall in bursts, their endless arguments cutting through the night like jagged edges. Callum and Malachi sit near the fire, their eyes lifting to meet mine as I approach. They don’t speak, but their expressions are enough to tell me what they’re thinking.
You reek of it, they’re saying without words.You reek of her.
They’re right. Her scent is still on me, a heady reminder of what I’ve done, but it’s the ghost of Lailah’s presence that lingers most.
I move toward my tent, and Malachi rises to block the entrance before Vanessa can follow. His massive frame fills the space, a silent wall of authority that even she won’t challenge easily.
“Malachi,” Vanessa purrs, her tone honeyed but edged with irritation. “You’re not really going to keep me out, are you?”
Malachi doesn’t respond, his expression carved from stone.
