Chapter Nine-Jasper's POV
1399 Words
I stood silently at the foot of the infirmary bed, my hand still wrapped around hers—small, fragile, yet clinging to me like I was the only tether she had left in this world.
April.
My Rosebud.
Her breaths were soft, uneven, as sleep pulled her under again, but even unconscious, her fingers wouldn’t let go. It gutted me.
She didn’t remember me. Not fully. Not yet. But I saw the flickers in her eyes earlier, the confusion that came with familiarity buried beneath years of pain and silence.
She would remember. I’d make damn sure of it. Piece by piece, memory by memory, I would bring her back.
This time, no one—no one—was taking her from me.
Not the Blackwoods.
Not Red River.
Not even the ghosts of our past.
I let out a slow breath, trying to steady the fury simmering just beneath my skin. I looked over to Marcus, who had been standing by the door, quiet as always but his expression clouded with the questions he hadn’t dared to ask aloud.
“Pack our things,” I said quietly, but there was no mistaking the weight behind my words.
Marcus blinked. “What?”
“I said, pack our things. From the guest rooms. We’re done here.”
He took a step forward, brows furrowing. “We’re leaving? Tonight?”
I nodded once, glancing down at April. Her hair spilled across the pillow like strands of crimson fire, her face pale beneath the fading light. My chest tightened.
“We’re not staying another second in this godforsaken place,” I said. “April’s coming with us.”
Marcus’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Understood. I’ll move quickly.”
“And cut all ties,” I added, voice low, sharp as broken glass. “I want no affiliation with Red River. Not after what they’ve done to her. Not after what they’ve allowed.”
He looked down, silent for a beat, then murmured, “She doesn’t even know.”
“No,” I said, and my throat burned. “But she will. Once she’s safe. Once her body—and her wolf—have time to breathe again.”
I turned back toward the door, intending to speak to Jordan, to make it clear what was happening and where the line had been drawn.
But before I moved, I looked down at her one last time.
So pale. So still.
The bruises hadn’t even begun to fade, and yet she looked... peaceful. Like she knew she didn’t have to run anymore.
“She’s not their property,” I muttered through clenched teeth. “She’s my mate. And I’ll burn this entire f*****g pack to the ground before I let them lay another hand on her.”
Marcus gave me a short, steady nod. “I’ll meet you at the truck in twenty.”
I didn’t answer. I just sat back down beside her, one hand reaching to brush a lock of hair from her cheek. My fingers lingered there, aching with the weight of years lost.
There were still a thousand questions to ask.
Still monsters to confront.
Still secrets she didn’t even know she carried.
But none of that mattered—not right now.
She was alive.
And she was mine.
And this time—I was taking her home.
I walked out of the infirmary with April’s scent still clinging to my skin—roses and something wild, like a storm trapped in a garden. My wolf snarled beneath the surface, barely restrained. He wanted blood. He wanted to turn this entire pack into ash for what they did to her.
What he let happen.
Jordan Blackwood.
That bastard didn’t just fail to protect her—he made sure no one could.
Every bruise on her skin. Every moment of silence from the doctor. Every order to look the other way. That was all Jordan. The great former Alpha. The supposed wise elder. A coward hiding behind titles while he let his wife and daughters tear April down piece by piece.
And he had the audacity to look me in the eye all these years like he wasn’t keeping a secret buried in his home like a chained wolf in a cage.
I had half a mind to put my fist through his skull.
But first—I had to get her out.
As I stalked down the hall toward Jordan’s office, someone stepped out of a side corridor and blocked my path. Victor Blackwood. Golden boy, arrogant posture, still wet behind the ears no matter how broad his shoulders were.
“What the hell are you doing, Black?” he demanded, chest puffed out like he was actually going to do something about it.
I stopped, tilted my head slightly. “Move.”
“She’s a damn maid. And you’re dragging her off like she’s royalty—like she matters.”
“She does.”
“She’s an Omega—”
I was on him before he could finish the insult.
He didn’t even see my fist until it cracked across his jaw.
Victor stumbled backward, hitting the wall. “What the—”
“She is mine,” I said, voice low, vibrating with rage. “She’s my mate. And if you call her an Omega again, I’ll break more than just your pride.”
“You think you can just walk in here and take what you want—”
“She was never yours to mistreat.”
He lunged, but I ducked, grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back. He let out a grunt of pain, and I slammed him to the floor, knee pressing into his spine.
“Your whole family will answer for what you did to her,” I growled into his ear. “Every bruise. Every command to keep her small. And trust me, I don’t need an army to take you apart.”
“Enough.”
The voice was cold. Familiar.
I looked up and saw Jordan standing at the end of the hall.
He hadn’t aged well—deep lines creased his face, his once-proud eyes dull with guilt or cowardice. Or maybe both.
“Get off him, Jasper,” he said, tone flat.
I did, slowly. Victor scrambled away, seething but not stupid enough to speak again.
Jordan didn’t acknowledge him. His eyes were on me.
“I want answers,” I said.
“You already have them.”
“Say it,” I spat. “Say you let them hurt her. That you watched her fall apart.”
Jordan looked at the floor for a long moment. “I didn’t stop it.”
“You started it,” I snapped. “You gave the order to ignore her pain. Brennan told me. You didn’t want the doctor treating her, didn’t want anyone seeing what they did.”
His jaw tightened. “She was just a mutt we took in”
My stomach turned and I snarled and so did Cain. " SHE IS NOT A MUTT!"
I stepped closer. “No. You don’t get to use that as an excuse. You don’t get to a***e her and call it discipline”
He didn’t argue.
“I’m taking her with me,” I said. “Today. Now.”
“She is a pack member!.”
“I’m cutting ties. Black Claw will have nothing to do with Red River ever again. Not under my command.”
Jordan nodded once, slowly. “So be it.”
Victor glared between us, fury bleeding from every pore. “What the hell is going on? What is she—?”
“She’s mine,” I snapped. “That’s all you need to know.”
Jordan put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Let it go, Victor.”
But I could see it—Victor wouldn’t. Not really. And that was fine. He could stew in his ignorance.
He didn’t deserve the truth anyway.
No one here did.
April’s truth—what she really was—belonged to her. When she was ready to remember, ready to stand tall again, it would be on her terms. Not as a secret Jordan hoarded or a weapon I wielded.
She wasn’t a pawn.
She was the Queen.
My Luna.
I turned on my heel and walked away.
Back to her
- Writer
