Chapter Seven Jasper’s POV – The Fragile Rosebud
1754 Words
I hadn’t let her go since I pulled her from that blood-stained floor.
Now she lay still on the infirmary cot, bruised, battered, and pale, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only confirmation that she was still with me.
April.
Her name felt like a prayer on my lips and a curse in my chest. She was my mate. My Rosebud. And yet… she didn’t remember me.
She didn’t even know who she truly was.
Dr. Brennan worked quietly at her side, checking vitals, murmuring diagnoses to himself. The man was old, respected—and one of the few people I trusted. But even he looked uneasy, his shoulders tense under the weight of what we were discovering.
“How bad is it?” I asked, my voice low, barely holding back the growl in my throat.
Brennan paused, eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Some of these wounds are days old. Fading bruises. Cracked ribs that were never treated properly. She’s been like this for a long time, Jasper.”
“She came in bleeding from the skull,” Marcus said, hovering behind me. “What kind of Alpha lets their people suffer like that?”
“Jordan Blackwood,” I muttered darkly. “And his perfect, vicious little family.”
Brennan hesitated, then said quietly, “I’ve tried to treat her before, you know. Caught glimpses—broken fingers, limping, burn marks. But they always kept her out of reach. Beth gave strict orders. No medical help unless she was dying.”
I clenched my fists. My wolf was pacing inside me, howling at the injustice. “And you listened?”
“I had no choice,” Brennan said. “If I’d gone against their orders, they’d have thrown me out. Then she would’ve had no one at all.”
I looked back at April.
She was curled in the blanket I’d wrapped around her, her long crimson hair spilled over the pillow like spilled wine. The side of her face was bruised, her lip cracked, one eye nearly swollen shut. She looked so small. So breakable.
So familiar.
I crouched beside her, brushing a lock of hair away from her forehead with shaking fingers. Her scent washed over me again—roses. Not the delicate kind. The deep, wild bloom of midnight roses growing in f*******n gardens. Sweet and sharp.
My Rosebud.
A name I used to whisper into her hair when she’d sneak away from her duties and hide beside me under the moonlight. She was six the last time I saw her—spirited and untamable, giggling when I’d climb trees and steal her books. Then she vanished.
They told me she died in a rogue attack.
They lied.
I looked at Brennan. “She doesn’t remember.”
“She might not for a while,” he replied gently. “If the trauma runs deep enough, her mind could’ve buried the memories to survive.”
“She called me ‘Romeo,’” I whispered. “That was her name for me when we were kids. Said I always showed up when she was sad.”
Marcus’s breath hitched behind me.
“Do you think it’s really her?” Brennan asked.
“I know it is,” I said. “Jordan knows it too. That’s why they kept her locked up. Why they kept her hidden. He knew what she was—what she is.”
“A pureblood Alpha,” Brennan said under his breath. “No wonder they tried to bury her.”
Before I could respond, April stirred.
A twitch in her fingers. A flutter of lashes. Her brow furrowed like she was trying to make sense of the pain—or the scent in the air.
Then her body stiffened.
Her nose twitched, lips parting as she inhaled deeply.
“Mate…” her voice was faint, breathless.
Her eyes opened.
Blue. Wide. Bleary. They locked with mine, and in that split second, time stopped.
Recognition flickered—but then confusion drowned it.
She stared at me, dazed. Hurt.
And then she whispered it. The word.
“…Romeo.”
The sound of it hit me like a blow to the chest.
I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Couldn’t.
April blinked, looking around as if trying to make sense of where she was. She winced, trying to sit up before Brennan rushed over.
“Easy, April,” he murmured. “You’re safe now.”
“Who… who are you?” she asked, eyes locked on me again.
My throat tightened. “I’m Jasper. Alpha of the Black Claw Pack.”
“I don’t… remember.”
I gave a small nod. “That’s okay, Rosebud. You don’t have to.”
She didn’t flinch at the name, but she didn’t recognize it either. It was just a word to her now.
I’d get her back. I’d help her remember who she was—who we were.
And this time, I’d protect her with everything I had.
Even if the entire Red River Pack burned for what they’d done.
Marcus's POV
The tension in the Red River pack house was stifling the moment Jasper and I stepped through the doors. The stench of pride and deception clung to the walls like mold. I'd been in hostile pack territory before, but something about this place felt… off. Cold. Wrong.
Jasper was quiet beside me, his long black hair tied back, green eyes focused and scanning. He always had that way of moving like a predator — calm, calculating, waiting to strike. We’d barely had time to settle in before things went south.
I caught the scent first — blood, roses, and something burnt. It wasn’t right. It was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. We were just about to head down to the dining room when we heard it.
A crash.
Jasper moved before I could blink. I followed, rounding the corner just in time to see two she-wolves — the Blackwood twins — slinking away from a crumpled figure. Beth was there too, the former Luna, still radiating that fake grace like perfume. But all I saw was blood.
April.
She was sprawled on the tiled floor, her crimson hair like a river around her pale face. She looked so… small. Frail. Not at all like the April I’d seen in glimpses, flitting silently from room to room, working like a ghost. Jasper didn’t hesitate. He growled low, so deep the walls vibrated. His eyes flashed gold.
“What the f**k did you do?” he snapped at Beth, his voice pure alpha command. She flinched. Good. “You attacked a pack member. That’s a punishable offense.”
“She’s just an Omega,” Lily hissed, but even she looked shaken.
“She’s mine,” Jasper growled, scooping April’s limp body into his arms like she was made of glass. “And she bleeds because of you.”
That was the first time I saw him look… broken. He held her like a dying flame, hands shaking. I saw the moment he inhaled her scent — roses — and froze. The blood drained from his face. Recognition flickered in his eyes, and something else. Pain.
“Rosebud,” he whispered. A name he hadn’t spoken in over a decade.
We made our way to the infirmary fast. Dr. Brennan was already on his way out with supplies when we burst in.
“She needs treatment. Now,” Jasper barked.
Dr. Brennan glanced at April, then did a double take. “Is that—? I haven’t been allowed to treat her in years…”
“What?” I asked, my voice sharper than intended.
“Blackwood orders,” he said grimly. “Anytime she got hurt, they told her to walk it off. When I offered help, Beth would shut me down. Said the girl needed to learn her place.”
Rage clawed up my throat. Jasper was silent, but his jaw flexed.
We laid April on the infirmary bed. Her head lolled to the side, and I noticed the bruise blooming along her temple. Dr. Brennan started cleaning the wounds, whispering soft assurances even though she was unconscious. Jasper never left her side, fingers brushing her wrist, like he needed to feel her pulse to stay grounded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked suddenly, voice barely above a whisper.
“I didn’t know,” Brennan admitted. “She never said anything. Just kept her head down and worked. I… I assumed she was just a quiet Omega.”
“She’s not an Omega,” Jasper growled, almost too quiet to hear.
I stepped back, giving him a moment. My heart was pounding. I couldn’t stop seeing her on that floor, blood pooling beneath her. And yet she never cried out. Never begged. That strength… I’d seen it in warriors, but never in someone so beaten down.
“Marcus,” Jasper said.
“Yeah?”
“She called me Romeo before she passed out.”
I stared at him. “She remembers?”
“No.” He looked down at her again. “I don’t think she knows she said it.”
Dr. Brennan finished tending her wounds and left us alone. Jasper leaned over, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. His fingers lingered there, trembling slightly.
“She used to call me that when we were kids,” he said, more to himself than me. “She’d follow me around, singing those stupid little songs, calling me Romeo and asking if I’d bring her a rose.”
I swallowed hard. “You think it’s really her?”
His gaze was hard now. “I know it is.”
April stirred.
Her lips parted. Her eyes fluttered open — dazed, confused. She looked straight at Jasper, brows furrowed. Her gaze trailed over him like she was trying to solve a puzzle. I watched the exact second her wolf stirred.
Then, she tensed. Her pupils dilated. Her breathing hitched, and I saw it — recognition not in her mind, but in her soul.
Jasper didn’t move. He watched her with aching softness, but said nothing.
April blinked again, her voice barely audible.
“Romeo?”
Then she went still.
I saw Jasper’s breath hitch. He caught her before she could fall back into unconsciousness, his hands cradling her like she was something precious. Maybe she didn’t remember. Maybe she wouldn’t for a long time. But the bond? The bond knew.
And so did we.
- Writer
