Now reunited, Killian, Jasper and the group must cross dangerous territory to the Freebird's main camp. On their arrival, Killian learns just how far the Freebird's hatred of Jasper expands-and just how much danger that puts him in.
Soon after arri...
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Jasper's eyelids were heavy, as if they'd been weighed down by anvils, impossible to keep fully open. Exhaustion proved to be a crushing pressure on his sore muscles, wounds still recovering from his expedition with Hadrian's patrol still required tending. Phoenix's arm gash had become infected, her fever was being watched closely by Hasan, while Casimir kept tabs on Benjiro.
Rowan and Anderson were long since deceased, one violently torn apart and the other shooting himself before succumbing to the horrific virus. Two people he loved so dearly, both medically ill. His mother dead. His father kidnapped and held hostage by a man he could only describe as the Devil in human flesh, without any power to stop it, burdened to remain at The Nest until he'd face the atrocities he'd committed under the manipulation of an ex lover—one he still cared for, one he watched slowly deteriorate in that one fateful room, the room that haunted his nightmares.
The knowledge that a woman who'd once been a dear friend to him had been burned alive. Now the death of two groupmates, Jess and Noel, slaughtered like cattle. The pressure of leading his people into the unknown future horrors, having to smile and reassure them that everything would be okay. Jasper allowed his eyes to close, his hands to run through his hair and fingers to dig into his scalp. The pain helped to distract him.
When he was alone, that was when the despair fully gripped onto him, the grim reality that nothing would ever be safe again, nothing would bring his loved ones back, nothing could wash the countless splatters of blood from his hands. How am I supposed to do this? Jasper wanted to scream, to punch holes in the walls, break windows, drink to numb the pain. But he could do nothing, trapped in the prison of own mind. It hasn't been like this since I was overseas buried in a trench. He thought bitterly.
Jasper sat up straighter when the door creaked open, a lantern bringing in just a flickering circle of light to illuminate the hand holding it. The door closed delicately behind Killian, the click of a lock set in place. "How are they doing?" Jasper whispered.
Killian crossed the room with soft padding feet, his steps as graceful as always, then set the lantern on the table. A soft whoosh filled the silence when he blew out the candle inside. "We convinced Phoenix to get some medicine down, her fever broke just an hour ago. Benjiro's sleeping, everybody's taking night shifts to look after them." Killian reached him, his kiss just barely brushing the surface of Jasper's brow. "They're going to be okay."
Jasper sighed, holding his face in his hands. "Killian," he uttered his partner's name so quietly that he wasn't sure if he could hear him. "I can't lose another one."
"I know you can't, baby." Killian replied just as daintily. He took Jasper's hand, then started towards their bed. Hesitantly, Jasper stood from the lounge chair and followed, allowing his partner to guide him blindly through the hostile shadows. Shuffling onto the bed, Jasper laid down in the center, then relished in Killian's warmth when those lean, safe arms wrapped around him.
