Wake of the Dead | Three

Chapter Twelve | Killian

The moon was high in the starry abyss above, the sky black and unfriendly. Cold, silver light cast the forest into an ominous and ghostly hue. Killian looked down at the ground, watching the dappled spots of moonlight filtering in through the tree branches against the leaf-littered forest floor. His whole body trembled in the freezing cold, he shrugged Jasper's jacket even tighter around him. The steady tromping of hooves and swaying of the massive horse's haunches were the only things he could use to distract himself.

Stephan sat on the Clydesdale's back directly behind Killian, dangerously close. So close that he could feel the tingle of tension between their bodies. Instead of holding onto the reigns beside Stephan's large hands, Killian prompted to set his own on either side of the horse's massive neck. He leaned forward, pressing his face into the surprisingly soft, dark mane of the animal. Glossy black fur tangled in his fingers, bringing him what little comfort he could find. Killian didn't know much about animals, most of them scared him. At first he'd been terrified of an animal that's hoof was the size of his head, but now, he wondered if the gentle giant would bring him any sort of solace away from its master.

It was odd, how comforting an animal could be. Killian traced the white fur that was shaped in the symbol of a frightening smile on its neck—Stephan had branded the horse and when the fur had grown back, it'd lost its pigment. A thunderous voice jolted Killian away from peace he'd managed to find. "You're cold, Rabbit."

Killian swallowed hard as Stephan's large hand ran up the length of his throat and held his chin. The man's palms were rough, calloused from years of wear and tear. Countless scars riddled the knuckles from what Killian could see. He must have gotten into a lot of fist fights to get those. His heart slammed against his chest as Stephan jerked him back. Killian was forced to lay back against the other man's body. His back fit perfectly into the curve of Stephan's toned stomach and chest. It's warmer this way. Killian reluctantly admitted to himself.

"I'd rather freeze." Killian said shakily, but his body refused to move away. The warmth was something he desperately needed, he could see his fingernails turning a sickly blueish-purple, he could see the veins beneath his paled skin. He could feel Stephan's chest rumble into a morbid chuckle, but he refused to speak again. Instead Killian continued to stare at the horse's fur. Just think of Jasper. Jasper. Everything is gonna be okay once you find him again.

Killian held his breath as Stephan's fingers ran through his hair, deceptively gentle. His stomach churned the more he realized. I missed this feeling. Killian's hands clenched into fists. But not from you. I want Jasper. Setting his jaw, Killian jerked away from Stephan, stiffening as the large man's hand held a tight grip and wouldn't let go. "You're going to freeze, Rabbit." He growled, "You're not to leave until we reach our destination." Don't touch me! But Killian was frozen. He nodded numbly. "Good." Stephan's praising purr was infuriating, not because it was feigned, but because it was effective.

How, after everything Stephan had done—how did he still manage to hook his claws so deeply into Killian's skin? How was he able to root there, to keep Killian at his side no matter how terrifying or threatening he was? Killian's nose wrinkled into a hateful snarl, frustration tingling alongside confusion, bringing boughs of inexplicable anger. He knew the answer. Because I'm helpless without him. Killian could feel the bubbling heat in his veins, the tension that made his nails dig so far into his own skin. He's in charge of my food, my water, my health, where I get to go and where I don't, when I sleep or when I'm exhausted. I have to obey everything he says just to survive and there's nothing I can do about it.

The thought that he now depended on Stephan for his every need--the thought of depending on anybody that much--made the hairs on the back of Killian's neck bristle and goosebumps cover his arms. Along with it came a sense of sadness, fear. He was disposable to Stephan, nothing but a toy to play with and throw away whenever he got bored. So how long would it take before the man decided to use him, then result to killing him? Killian was ultimately helpless, with nothing to do but wait in silence for a chance at escape. The forest around them, the scent of fir trees was all too irresistible. It was a taunting joke, humiliating. Killian had the chance to run. But he would instantly be brought back. He'd found a way out of the camp, the fresh wind on his tongue brought along the exhilaration of freedom. So close, and yet so tasteless in essence.

Even if Killian did manage to escape, there was another lingering thought plaguing the back of his mind. What will I even do? Where would I even start? I'm useless surviving on my own. I'm exhausted, starving, injured. I couldn't last a single week. Especially without any supplies. So, Killian needed a plan. Something so calculated that not even somebody like Stephan would anticipate it. Where would he hide a collection of supplies without Willow finding out about it? It wouldn't be the first time the older woman checked his room a bit too close for his liking. 

Worrying his bottom lip, Killian couldn't help but feel like a stranger in his own skin, trapped, as if it was too tight and he had to wriggle out of it. He couldn't be here, he just couldn't. Leaning back against Stephan, feeling the other man so close that he could hear the heartbeat in his large chest--it wasn't Jasper. An overwhelming guilt pressed in on Killian at all possible angles. It isn't Jasper. Only Jasper should be this close. No, no this isn't right. This can't be happening. I can't be here. But he was, there was no escaping it. Killian closed his eyes, horrified by the hot tears forming behind their lids, doing his best to hold them back. What was Stephan's plan? His stomach twisted, he wanted to throw up. But then Killian wondered. If I want to escape, do I have to gain his trust? If Stephan thought he wanted to stay, would he suspect anything? 

Forcing himself to accept the reality of his situation, the easiest possible way for Stephan not to detect a possible plan of escape, Killian pressed back against Stephan, leaning his head against the other man's shoulder. It was warm, he couldn't deny that. Killian trembled, he was so close to who he could only think of as Death himself. The only thing he received was a quick glance from Stephan's coal-black eyes. He's suspicious. Of course he would be. "It's cold," Killian commented idly. His voice was a stranger, not his own. Flat, unfeeling. "You disgust me." 

A single, barking laugh left Stephan when Killian stated his second train of thought. "You, Rabbit, intrigue me." Stephan rumbled. The man's chest shook just barely as he spoke, the deep bass felt against Killian's cheek. "So insistent, after everything I've given you." 

"You stole me from my family." Killian murmured. He quieted down, adding a tone of finality to his sentence. If he spoke any more, he was going to vomit. 

Relief arrived in the form of the patrolman at the front of the procession, "This is where they were told to start tracking those Freebird cowards down." The man was olive-skinned, with curly brunette hair and bright eyes. Oddly enough, there was a familiar kind of necklace tightened firmly around his neck, one Killian recognized. Dog tags. "Is that kid you brought along really gonna be helpful?" 

Killian detested the man's words. "Why else do you think I was brought along dumbass?" He carefully moved away from Stephan and clumsily lowered himself to the ground, immediately shuddering once the icy wind hit him again. He made his way to the front of the group, warily eyeing the large horses a few of the patrol members were riding on. There were three horses in total, not including Stephan's massive steed. Killian barely concealed a flinch away from one of the large stallions as it snorted irritably and stomped its front hooves against the dry soil. Those things could kill you with a single kick. Killian thought to himself. 

At the front of the patrol, Killian shot the olive-skinned man a brief glare. Trying to make a fool of me. He thought bitterly. Well, you'll be made a fool of instead, when you can't find an embarrassingly large group for weeks and I find them in a few hours. At least, if the weather hadn't ruined the trails. Thankfully enough though, he could see the uneven ground and plants unnaturally brushed aside, subtle parts in the grass stems underfoot. "Keep those monsters away from me." Killian spat, nodding to one of the equines. "And don't let them stray. They could ruin the trail with a single print." 

The man who'd questioned Killian before wrinkled his nose as he was going to snarl in return, but Stephan interrupted him as he guided his massive stallion to the very front of the group, wheeling it around to a sharp, aggressive halt. It stood horizontally in front of the man between Killian and their mare. The massive man loomed over his subject with a stare that could wilt flowers in a single glance. Those black, cold eyes calculative and challenging. "That's enough, Xander." He rumbled quietly. His voice became deceptively smooth as he looked down at Killian, his eyes almost predatory. Killian swallowed back a bile that had risen to the back of his throat. Stephan dropped down from the large saddle on his stallion, "We travel on foot from here." He commanded. 

Without another word, Stephan narrowed his eyes at Killian. "Well," He said softly, "What are you waiting for, Rabbit? Lead the way." Killian flinched as a large hand trailed through his curls, a silent threat behind their rough palms. "And don't disappoint me."