Chapter 50 Jasmine
Ifeel them before I wake. Not their touch or voices. Just… them.
Kane feels the closest, his cool, soothing darkness curling around me like shade in an abrasive summer.
Ezekial wraps the edges, calm and quiet, like warm water.
Sai crackles somewhere to my right, restless, electric. Bright in all the right ways.
And Julien is heat. Velvet-rich, slow-burning. His presence sinks deep, like silk laid over embers.
All of it makes my chest ache pleasantly, and beneath it, there’s something even sweeter. Relief, hope, and maybe—
“…now?”
“You can’t force yourself to feel something, Sai,” Ezekial mutters.
“What about… now. What am I feeling right now?”
I don’t open my eyes, but a smile pulls at my lips as Julien exhales slowly. “Sai, it’s been almost an hour.”
“I’m just saying now that Mr. Mine over here can feel, maybe he should try using it. Maybe try something wild like communicate. Or at least use it to tell us who Red’s favourite is.”
“Because you think it’s you?” Ezekial asks.
“Well it’s probably not the one growling every time someone touches her.”
Kane makes a sound that’s almost a growl and I laugh without meaning to. It seems to freeze the room for a moment. Then furniture shifts, feet move, and something dips beneath me. Am I on someone’s lap?
When I slowly open my eyes, I find four men watching me.
“Hey,” I say, stretching a little.
There’s no pain or fatigue, no aches or twinges. Just energy humming beneath my skin in a rhythm my body seems to recognise.
“No. Don’t you dare say how I feel right now,” Sai snaps, looking straight at Kane.
But Kane’s eyes are locked on me, expression intense, like he’s ready to catch me, or pin me down… maybe both?
“You’re back.” I smile. But he doesn’t respond, and it falters a little. “Are you feeling better?”
I sit up and Julien’s hands move to my waist, guiding me gently to his side so I can lean against him.
“Careful, mon ame,” he says softly. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a day. You shouldn’t—”
“You need to eat,” Kane snaps, far too fast, still not answering my question. He’s perched on the edge of a coffee table, fingers curled tight around it.
I quirk a brow at his sharp tone, and he retreats instantly. His shoulders sink, his gaze drops.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on the floor. “I’m fine. Now that you’re awake.”
I reach for him, resting my hand on one of his, feeling his fingers unclench slightly. “It’s okay, and I’m fine too.” I glance between them all, feeling their nervous energy pooling around me, making me add, “I feel really good. Better than I ever remember.” Then I smile, and the tension eases.
I start to shift on the sofa, trying to shimmy to the edge, but Julien’s grasp holds me in place. “I’m just going to the bathroom.” But he doesn’t let go. “I just want a quick shower—”
“Need a hand?” Sai cuts in, hand already out, accompanied by a wide grin and dark cobalt eyes.
I place my hand in his, and Julien’s grip finally eases as Sai helps me to stand. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, Sai.”
But Sai escorts me to the bathroom anyway, refusing to let go of my hand until the very last second.
When I do step back into the living room, the scent of food hits me. The men have cleaned up, re-dressed, and the space has a quiet, comforting warmth.
Kane spots me immediately, and his eyes drop to my clothes with a frown. Black leggings and a jumper. Comfortable, soft. Not at all revealing.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, heading towards him.
“You’re not wearing my shirt.”
Fuck this man is so cute, I can’t help but smile. “I can’t walk around in your shirt forever, Kane.”
“Why?” he asks, genuinely unsure.
I laugh, sliding my arms around his waist as I rise onto my toes and whisper against his lips, “I’ll wear it tonight.”
Then I slip away, turning to flash a sly smile over my shoulder. I feel his gaze tracking my every step, even as I curl up on the sofa and pull a large, fluffy throw over myself. He stares at the blanket like he’s trying to burn through it.
But then Julien’s leaning over the back of the sofa, taking my attention as he hands me a large bowl of food. I thank him, and he smiles.
The others begin to hover nearby, forming an uneven wall in front of the sofa—close, but also not crowding. More like they’re guarding me.
As I begin to eat the heavenly concoction, mostly rice and fresh vegetables, the low sound of their voices fills the room. But even though their voices sound normal, overlapping naturally, relaxed, the bond betrays them.
Tension pulses beneath every careful word, beneath the smiles that don’t quite reach their eyes.
They’re waiting, or dreading, and the longer I pretend I don’t notice, the heavier it gets.
I set my fork down, placing the bowl of half-eaten food beside me as I swallow against the sudden weight in my throat.
“You’re all… nervous,” I murmur, looking between them. “Is it because of me?”
They all face me, immediately alert.
I try to laugh at their reaction, but it comes out wrong. Tight and off. “It’s okay. If something’s changed, I wouldn’t blame you. But… you did promise not to lie.”
No one speaks.
“Remember?” I hedge. “Even if it would upset me, you said you’d tell the truth.” I glance at the large wall of window behind them, suddenly not sure I can meet their eyes. “If what happened with Kane was too much… if all this feels like too much. I said if anyone wanted out, they—”
“Jasmine.”
It’s so rare for Julien to use my name at all, let alone like that. Never sharp. Never like a warning.
I flinch instinctively, shifting back on the sofa.
He sees it, they all do, and every jaw tenses.
“No, mon ame,” he says gently, removing all traces of his previous tone before easing into the seat beside me. “I apologise for my tone. But it isn’t that, not at all.”
“Fuck no,” Sai snaps next, sparks flying as he drops onto the seat on my other side. “Hell no, Red.”
“You think we’re nervous about you?” Ezekial’s eyes blaze silver, hard and hot with disbelief as he crouches in front of me, knuckles brushing the edge of the blanket. “No, Jasmine. Never.”
Kane hasn’t spoken, but his obsidian stare somehow hits harder than all their words.
Then his darkness flares like it’s been threatened. Shadows leak from him in jagged lines, and with each step closer, more of them splinter out until he’s towering before me.
“You’re ours.” His voice is low, rough, and so possessively dark it scrapes down my spine as he sinks into a crouch beside Ezekial. “We’re yours, Jasmine. Never question that again. Ever.”
Did Kane’s threat just give me butterflies? Apparently so. That weightless swoop in my belly is undeniable.
“I’m—I’m just…” And now I’m stuttering.
Mortifying.
“Holy shit,” Sai breathes, staring at Kane like he’s just witnessed a miracle before slowly turning to me. “What Kane just said. Ditto. For all of us.”
That earns a subtle nod from Ezekial, and a slower one from Julien. And that makes me laugh, that, for once, they’re all agreeing with Kane.
I clear my throat, trying to recover and refocus. “I’m just trying to work out why you all feel…” I scan their faces, trying to isolate the source, but it’s all of them. “Dread... I think?”
They glance between one another, silently making a decision.
“Mon ame,” Julien says gently, “you feel dread because we’ve only just uncovered a truth. One we’re still coming to terms with ourselves.”
Kane shifts slightly, his voice becoming softer.
“I can feel you now, your power.” He pauses and his shadows creep up and over me, settling my racing heart with their familiar chill.
“I’ve realised how strong you really are.
How you’ve always had control of the dark, that you didn’t need any training. It was the rune holding you back.”
My heart gives a strange little beat.
Ezekial meets my gaze next. “The dark is wild and chaotic. Some beings can’t control it, and become trapped in the realm. Mastering it often takes decades.”
Sai’s voice follows, soft and careful as he asks, “How old do you think you are, Red?”
I frown, then laugh, shaky. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“The darkness obeys you.” Kane’s voice is quiet, almost like he’s… awed. “You survived it. Endured it. Made it yours. That doesn’t come from training. That comes from time. From pain. From living.”
I swallow, the implication in his words becoming clearer. “…How old do you think I am?”
Another pause, another glance passed between them.
Ezekial rubs the scar through his brow, adjusts his glasses, but never looks away as he finally says, “One hundred.”
“Give or take,” Sai adds, earning a sharp glare from Ezekial.
“A… a hundred.” The number echoes around me, my heart beating faster, harder.
“One hundred,” I whisper again, but it comes out wrong, followed by a ragged laugh, frantic and disbelieving. “But… but that would mean…”
I can’t think. My mind is all static and mumbled words as my breath stutters out.
“That would mean I…” I look to them, pleading, searching for something. Desperate for a lie, a distraction, a softer truth.
“Where was I?” It slips out.
My shadows unfurl, writhing up around me in tight, shivering coils.
I’ve only known five years.
Five.
Not one hundred.
Five years with my found family. Five years of wondering and pretending that was enough. Did they know? All that time I was with them, did they keep that from me? And if they did, what else did they keep? What other truths did they hide?
We’d joked about my age together over drinks, guessed late twenties, early thirties. Not one hundred fucking years.
“But why don’t I… I haven’t aged?”
“The strength of your darkness will have stopped your ageing at some point,” Julien explains carefully, pausing to soften his voice. “But we are still uncertain of the effects your rune has on you. Whether it’s been suppressing your change into immortality… or hiding that you already are.”
A tremor runs through me. I lose my breath.
One hundred years, stolen. And I might be immortal.
My hands shake in my lap, fingers clutching the blanket, slivers of shadow spilling between them like smoke.
“Do you think…” I try to stop, but the thought’s already there. It’s all I can see.
Prospero’s memory. That robe. That green fucking cloak. And now they’re seeing it too.
“Do you think I was with them?” My voice doesn’t sound like mine, thinner, hollow, drenched in horror.
My vision swims, darkens. I can’t—
“Breathe, mon ame…” Julien’s voice is near my ear. Someone’s hands are on me. “Breathe,” he repeats.
But I can’t.
My lungs burn. My chest aches. My shadows wrap tighter like they’re trying to suffocate the panic away.
Was I born there? Raised by them?
Were my parents a part of it? Were they my family?
Did I believe in it? Did I help them?
But then—I ran. In Prospero’s memory. I was running. Being chased.
Why run unless I needed to?
What did they do to me?
Kane drops to his knees, his shadows reaching for mine, trying to break through to me.
I stare at the carpet, focus on a single thread, a fleck of lint. Something tangible. Anything but this.
“We’ll find out,” he says it so surely, like doubt doesn’t exist in his world. “And we’ll repay the suffering tenfold.”
I look up, and meet his unwavering gaze. “But what if…” I try to say, as something warm slips down my cheek. “What if I caused suffering?”
He stares at me like the words don’t make sense, like they’re foreign to him.
“You said they followed your father. What if I was like him? What if I believed in it? In them? What if I was just like them?”
“Jasmine—”
“If I was with them for a century, Kane.” My voice shatters. “A century. What if the person I am now… is nothing like the person I was? What if I was evil? A killer? A monster.”
I close my eyes, and there it is again. The Divide. The memory of what I did to my bonds.
I can meld minds. Break them. I almost killed Kane. All of them.
“I almost killed you.” The words sear on the way out. And in the silence, there’s just the thunder of my heartbeat, and the burn behind my eyes.
The ache in my chest sharpens—twists—and—
I flit.
I run.
I stumble against a railing—
When I open my eyes, I stare out at a familiar lake.
Wind lashes my face, cool against my burning skin as my hands tremble around the railing, desperate to cling to something.
I feel sick. Made worse by the hollowness in my chest. I must’ve flitted too far because there’s nothing through the bond.
“Fuck!” I hiss, dragging my palms over my face, smearing hot tears into my skin.
All that time, I was taught that enforcers were the enemies. The monsters of this world.
But maybe… Maybe it was always me.