Chapter 22 - Jasper
“Tara, stay with me,” I command, kneeling on the ground to catch her in my arms.
It’s the hardest thing to watch. She’s unresponsive, her eyes shut, but I can tell that she’s in pain. All I want is to take it away.
“Tara,” I shake her gently. “You have to wake up.”
I realize that I’ve never felt fear before. Yes, I’ve been afraid in my life, but not like this.
Her face twists like she’s fighting something, and it tears me apart that I can’t follow her to wherever she is. I can’t fight whatever darkness has its claws sunk into her.
I scoop her into my arms and hold her close to my chest.
There’s darkness around us, watching her, and if I could, I’d tear every one of those creatures apart. But what I need is to get Tara back to safety first.
I run through the forest, the wind whipping at my sides.
I glance down every now and then at her—she’s still in pain.
There has to be someone who can help.
Once I reach where my pack and the witches are, I don’t even look at them. I can feel them about to rush forward, to ask me questions, but there’s no time.
“I’m taking her back,” I growl, rushing past them all at lightning speed.
No one tries to stop me.
I have the urge to shift, but I fight it, unwilling to let go of Tara for even a second.
“Stay with me,” I whisper to her again. I say it over and over, as if it’s said enough times, it’ll bring her back. “Stay with me. Don’t you dare leave me.”
My territory rises in the distance, the familiar border line slowly coming into view. Relief and dread hit me all at once.
I rush through our border, my guards saying something that doesn’t register with me. I don’t slow down.
“Healer,” is all I say.
As I approach the healer huts, two of them emerge from the doors.
From the look on their faces, it’s as though they were ready—prepared for something like this.
But when their eyes land on Tara, their calm fades. I can see the urgency beneath their eyes.
“Lay her down,” one of them orders, already clearing space on the bed inside the hut.
I oblige, although every part of me protests against letting her out of my arms.
The two healers exchange glances as they hover over her. One presses a hand to her forehead, the other checks her pulse at her wrist.
I pace back and forth. My body feels as though it’s about to snap.
All I can think about is the times I’ve taken her for granted, about how wrong I was.
The seconds stretch like hours.
“Well?” I ask. “What’s wrong with her?”
The healer shakes her head. “Her body’s strong. Her heartbeat is steady. There’s no wound, no poison, nothing I can touch.”
I feel myself losing control.
“That’s not an answer,” I snarl, my wolf threatening to break through my skin. “She’s in pain. Look at her face.”
Tara’s eyes are closed, but she is still wincing.
The second healer, the older one, frowns deeply. “It isn’t her body,” she says slowly. “It’s something else. Something I can’t reach.”
I move closer, looming over them both. “You have to reach deeper.”
The doors behind me fling open, and in walks Lacey and Danielle. Lacey rushes to Tara’s side, Danielle eyes her carefully.
My sanity returns to me, if only a little.
“Thank you,” I say to the healers. “You both may go.”
They exit swiftly, nodding their heads before leaving through the door.
“Danielle told me what happened,” Lacey says, cradling Tara’s head. I glance over at Danielle, desperately. She’s my last hope.
“Tara drove the dagger through the flower. The flower changed color, and then she collapsed in crippling pain. She won’t wake up.”
I’m not sure what Danielle knows, but I want to make sure she has all the information. There has to be something the healers are missing.
Danielle’s face is calm, placid.
“She’s alive and well,” she says. “That flower was obviously a trap, and it’s going to take some time for the magic to get out of her system. Slowly, she’ll begin to wake up.”
“Is she in a lot of pain?” My voice is hoarse, desperate.
I see the pain behind Danielle’s calm expression, too. “Yes,” she says. “But it’ll wear off.”
We all gaze at Tara’s face, at the tension that lingers even though she lies unmoving. Her chest rises and falls with every shallow breath.
I wish it were me. I wish I were the one to stab that flower and take on the pain. She doesn’t deserve this.
Lacey strokes a strand of hair from Tara’s face, Danielle wets a cloth and places it on her forehead.
“She was right about us being on the right track,” Danielle finally says. “We were close, and that flower was a diversion. Its purpose was to stop the hunt.”
I nod. I crouch down beside the bed, my hand hovering over her hand before I finally interlace my fingers with hers.
“She’s strong,” I say. “She’ll be okay.”
I don’t care about the flower, the hunt, or anything to do with the curse at this moment. All I care about is her.
Danielle’s eyes flicker toward me. “That’s true, it will wear off, Jasper, she just has to get through these first waves.”
“Is there anything you can do? To help with the pain?”
Danielle looks down at Tara with cautious eyes. “I don’t know the exact nature of what’s plaguing her. Anything I cast would help her body, but I know that’s not what’s wrong.”
I clench my jaw, so painfully aware of Tara’s fragility.
“But the magic is already wearing off,” Danielle says. “It’ll only be a matter of time.”
“How long?” I ask.
Danielle shakes her head slowly. “I can’t say. But she will wake up.”
I don’t let myself sag, although every bone in me wants to.
She will wake up, that's all I need.
“I’ll stay,” I say. “You both should probably get some rest. I’ll let you know when she wakes.”
Neither of them protests.
Lacey leans down and kisses Tara’s forehead. “You got this, girl.”
Danielle nods at me, glances at Tara.
Then they both exit through the door of the healer’s hut, and the silence takes over.
***
It must be morning; the night sky has turned from black to dark blue.
I’ve been thinking a lot. Replaying my encounters with Tara, everything I’ve done wrong, everything that went well.
That date I took her on, up high in my secret spot, was one of the best nights of my life. When we made love.
“I promise you, Tara,” I tell her. “When you wake up, things will be better. I want to give you everything you want.”
All I hear is silence, and the regular hum of her heartbeat.
She’s so beautiful. So perfect.
Suddenly, her body jerks.
My heart lurches.
It’s the slightest movement, but it’s there.
“Tara?”
I'm desperate. My eyes are sore and cracked.
She inhales deeply, sharp and pained, as though she’s feeding from the air.
Her eyes snap open.
I'm careful not to make any sudden movements, as though the moment itself is delicate. Any brash movement and she might close her eyes again.
I’m leaning over her, my hand still gripping hers.
“Tara—"
Her gaze darts around, disoriented, and then finally locks onto me. Her panicked expression eventually softens when she sees me.
She looks fragile, softer as she begins to make sense of her world.
“You’re okay,” I tell her, squeezing her hand. “You’re back at the pack. You’re okay.”
She nods with her eyes and then swallows.
I get up and grab her water. Cradling her head in my hand, I slowly bring the cup to her lips.
She closes her eyes as she sips it down.
Once she’s finished, I lay her back down, and she props herself up.
“Easy,” I say. “You’ve been in a lot of magical pain. I don't fully know what that’s done to you, but it didn’t exactly look like a joy ride.”
She inhales.
“Do you want a blanket?”
She shakes her head.
Then she looks at me, and in her face cracks a small smile.
“Well,” she says. “I could get used to this.”
I laugh. Laughing almost feels inappropriate, but in some ways it’s needed.
“Well, at least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
That small grin makes my heart ache.
“Hey, for a second there, I almost did.”
Her voice is raspy, broken, but at least she’s talking. I didn’t realize how much I missed her voice until now.
“Stay here,” I say. “I’ll bring you anything you need. Or I can get Danielle.”
“No,” she says, quickly. Her hand twitches against mine, a subtle squeeze, but enough to send a warm sensation that surges through me. “Don’t leave.”
My chest tightens, and I shake my head firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I settle down beside her, unwilling to put even an inch of space between us. “Rest, Tara. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She sighs, her breathing steadying before she flutters her eyes shut. I stay there, watching her, guarding her—vowing to myself that nothing will hurt her ever again.
***
She smiles softly.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t leave!”
“I didn’t,” I say, carrying Tara’s care package and settling it down by her bed. “This was hand-delivered by the pack.”
My Shifters banded together to make up a plate of fresh food. I’ve got water spell-bound to hydrate her with electrolytes and ‘healing’ energy—whatever that means.
She’s looking pale, slightly better, but still unwell. Beautiful as always, of course.
“This actually looks really good,” she sighs.
“You need me to help you eat?”
I mean it seriously, but she smiles at me as though I’m joking.
“No, Jasper, I don’t need you to feed it to me.”
“Hey, this is what the Princess treatment entails.”
“Oh, if all I had to do was get taken out by a magical flower to get Princess treatment, maybe I would have done it sooner.”
“No more magical flowers for you.”
She cocks her head and smiles. “And the Princess treatment?”
“That can stay.”
I pass her the plate of food, and she coughs a little as she sits up to eat. She manages a few bites, slow and steady, and I watch her carefully—eyeing her like a hawk.
“Stop staring at me,” she mutters lightheartedly as she pokes at her food with her fork.
“I can’t.”
Her eyes flick to mine for a moment, and I see the faintest blush of red creep up her cheeks. She’s pretending not to be affected by me.
Nice try.
“Eat,” I urge, nudging the plate closer. “Doctor’s orders.”
“But you’re not a doctor,” she teases.
“Alpha’s orders, then. Holds a lot more weight.”
Having not dealt with the magic world too much in my life, I always thought that a healer could fix any problem anyone had.
I was wrong.
She laughs. “You love pulling that card with me, don’t you?”
“Hey, it definitely works.”
For a few moments, we sit in silence, Tara eating, while I watch. Or trying not to watch, but still ultimately watching.
I don’t like my thoughts that begin to fill the silence. I’m starting to think about the reality outside of this room, and it becomes too much.
I lean back in my chair.
“You know,” I say. “The guards at the border were talking about the book you lent them the other day.”
Tara’s head pops up, surprised. The Alchemist?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh,” she grins. “I’m surprised any of them actually read it. They asked me for recommendations, you know, of human books to read on their days off. I’m glad. That makes me happy.”
“How come you didn’t recommend it to me?”
“Well, hmm, on second thought, maybe you would like it. I just assumed you didn’t like to read much, so there would be no point.”
She stabs another bite of her food.
“Oh, and what made you think that?”
“Are you offended?” She smiles.
“No,” I cross my arms. “Just curious. Wondering what sort of energy those guards give off that I don’t.”
She laughs. “I’ve seen your book collection. I wasn’t exactly impressed.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Of course, you’ve been eyeing that up. All I’ll say is that it’s a work in progress, okay?”
“Hey, I get it,” she shrugs. “This whole tapestry flower curse situation is definitely a work in progress. It feels like we’re taking two steps forward to go three steps back.”
The sun is starting to set again, and I’m reminded of all the crap that we’re up against. I’m reminded that Tara still isn’t fully well.
“We’ll get there,” I say.
“I just wish I felt better. I feel so weak, so hu—”
“Don’t say it,” I interrupt. “You’re strong, Tara. Really strong. I know that you’re going to be okay.”
I’m dead serious as I say this, leaning closer toward her so that she gets the point. I don’t want her to call herself weak or think that she won't get better just because she’s human.
Not only is it not true, but it’s not helpful. Words have power, and as a lover of books, she should know that.
“Thanks,” she whispers.
We continue talking about things that are stupid, things that serve no purpose other than keeping us entertained.
And more importantly, keeping her distracted.
As the sun fully sets, and night descends all around us, Tara gradually begins to drift off.
She’s getting stronger, looking healthier, and if humans are anything like us, which let’s face it, they are, all she’ll need is rest.
Once I’m sure that Tara is fast asleep, I call on one of my guards to man the place and set out to find this damn flower myself.