––––––––
When Jethro woke his fever was gone, and so was the anger in his blood. The room was white and clean. It was some kind of hospital, but it was too nice to be the infirmary.
“You’re awake,” said a female.
He turned his head and a female Guard, probably in her early thirties, stood in the doorway, smiling at him. She was pretty. This definitely wasn’t the infirmary.
“Where?” His voice cracked from disuse and lack of water.
She moved to his bed and lifted his head as she held a glass to his lips. He took a small sip. The first drop made his thirst hit him like a carriage. He grabbed the cup, gulping the water.
“Slow down.” She tried to pull the glass away, but he couldn’t let that happen. He needed this water like he needed air. He wrapped his hand around hers, holding it in pl
