Chapter 11: Viptan

It is too much. Jasper has yet to regain consciousness. His breathing is labored, a roughness to the sound.

Eliana, although on the brink of collapse herself, runs after Conrad as he carries Jasper close to his chest.

There are dried tears and blood on her cheeks and her skin is tainted. She pushes stray locks from her sight as she hobbles faster.

“We are almost there.” Beatrice gasps, her eyes wild with fear. She continuously glances between Jasper and the path ahead.

“There,” Conrad grunts as the trees begin to spread out and they are able to see the towering wall surrounding Viptan.

Eliana can barely hear the shouts from the individuals, guards, on top of the wall. They will save Jasper, right?

She fights the tears swarming as they reach the border of the werebear sanctuary.

Three men rush out to meet the group.

“Conrad,” the one in front speaks, his eyes wide, “What has happened?”

“We were attacked by Climont. Please, Jasper needs help.”

The other werebear pauses, glancing at Eliana, but nods and steps aside to allow Conrad to rush inside.

“Beatrice, the Chief will not be happy about this.” The man states softly as they pass by. His gaze continues to go back to Eliana.

“I will deal with him once my son is okay.” Mama grumbles placing a hand behind Eliana and pushing her after Conrad.

The sanctuary is bustling with hundreds of men and women moving about, but as the group pass by, the Xefol halt all activity. Glowers and confusion befall Eliana. She inches closer to Beatrice as they run through the sanctuary.

“Are humans unheard of here,” she questions herself.

There are very few children playing in the streets, or even within eyesight. Everyone they pass has a burly build, towering over her thin frame.

Once Beatrice slows and enters a large tent on the edge of the road, Eliana’s heart shakes.

“Is Jasper going to survive? What do I do,” she almost begs within her mind. It is all her fault. She bites a sob as she sees Jasper, sprawled out on a small cot.

“He will survive.” The man that speaks is much older than any other within the sanctuary. At least that Eliana has seen. His long, greying hair is bundled in multiple braids with feathers and beads adorning them. Wrinkles etch into his skin and droop over his eyes. “The cut is not as deep as it appears. I will place an herbal ointment on the wound before binding it. He will remain unconsciousness for some time, but he will be alright. He just needs rest.”

Eliana almost falls to the ground as the good news washes over her. Jasper is going to be alright. He will wake up eventually. The tears finally escape her grasp and she releases a sob. “I am so sorry.”

The entire room turns toward her.

“Oh honey, please,” Beatrice rushes to her side and strokes her head. “This is not your fault. Jasper was being reckless. Do not fret.”

Eliana is unable to forgive herself though. “They were after me, not any of you.”

Conrad pivots from his son, “Jasper would not want you blaming yourself. The healer has stated that he will be alright. You will be able to make it up to him when he is healed.”

Eliana stifles her sobs and looks up at the large werebear.

“I am sorry for intruding,” the man from before pushes the flap of the tent aside. “Now that we know Jasper is in good hands, please come with me. The Chief needs to be told about what has happened.”

“I will not leave my son.” Beatrice glowers at their fellow clansman.

Eliana swallows, pushing herself up. “It is alright. I will stay with him.”

“Are you sure, dear?”

She nods, “This is the least I am able to do.”

Beatrice’s brow stitches up and she glances back at her son.

“He will be okay,” Conrad sighs, placing a hand on his wife’s back. “Let us go and meet with our Chief.”

Mama hesitates for but a moment before following after.

Eliana moves to the corner of the tent, watching as the healer and a few other werebears maneuver about, mixing plants and water into a bowl, muddling the ingredients. They clean Jasper’s wound and after applying the solvent, wrap his torso very carefully. The healer glances back at Eliana so often his dark gaze void of any emotion. She is not sure what he is thinking.

Once Jasper’s injuries are taken care of, the assistants quickly disappear from the tent.

“What is your name,” the healer questions once they are alone.

Anxiety builds in her chest, but she holds it at bay, “Eliana.”

He nods, quiet for a moment.

“Where are you from?”

She tightens her grip on the hem of her shirt, “Drein.”

Why is he asking such questions, she wonders to herself.

The healer does not ask any more questions. Once he is finished with Jasper’s bandages, he nods toward Eliana and exits the tent, leaving the two of them alone.

As she sits there, watching the man that saved her, she allows tears to flow. Because of her, he almost died. If she went with the soldiers, maybe she would be married to Prince Drake by now. Realistically though, she might also be dead.

As she listens to the bustle of the werebears outside the tent, Eliana gives in to her anguish and wraps her arms around her knees. She has lost her handmaid and her guards. She almost cost the Darcy’s their lives and she is being hunted down by her fiancé. Not to mention that she is within the sanctuary of the clan that murdered her mother. She is lucky to still be alive herself.

She does not know how long she is in that position, quite possibly hours. She refuses to move until Jasper begins to shift.

He grumbles, his features distorting as he shifts on the cot. He bares his teeth in a grimace, a long sigh releasing as he breathes out.

Eliana inches closer, blinking away tears. “It is alright, Jasper.”

He reaches blindly around, gripping the side of the bed tightly, until his knuckles become white. Eliana grasps his hand, allowing him to constrict her hand. She halts the urge to whimper at the pain.

“You are alright. You are safe,” she whispers close to his face.

He groans, but his head slowly moves in her direction, his brow softening slightly.

Eliana is unable to take her eyes off him. A bead of perspiration drips down his brow. The urge to reach out tingles every nerve in her arm and she eventually gives in, gently brushing the sweat away.

As soon as she touches him though, Jasper’s head quivers and his face scrunches, a low moan rumbling through his battered body.

Grimacing, Jasper’s dense gaze slowly opens. Eliana swallows her heart and tries to ignore the heat blooming in her face.

“Eliana,” his voice is weak and cracks. He coughs, his chest rattling.

“Do not speak. You must rest.” She urges, placing her free hand on his shoulder in order to make sure he does not try to sit.

“Where—”

“We are in Viptan,” she says quickly to stop him from speaking. “Your parents went to meet with the Chief to explain the situation.”

It takes a while before Jasper finally relaxes his brow and his entire body stops fighting Eliana. He looks up at her, his pupils dilating until they almost take over completely. “Why are you. . .”

“Oh,” Eliana tries not to show the disappointment that his words strike or the crack in her own heart. Her features flash with a soft wince as she realizes what he means to ask. “I am sorry. I did not want to leave you alone incase you awoke. I will leave.”

Releasing his hand, she pushes off the cot to stand all while holding back tears by biting her lip.

“No,” Jasper grabs her wrist tightly before Eliana can walk away.

She takes a shaky breath in as a harsh shiver runs down the side of her head and shoots right into her heart.

“Do not go,” he whispers harshly, his eyes drooping with fatigue.

“Okay,” Eliana is only able to speaks softly as her entire body is on fire, the flames emanating from their contact.

“I only. . .” Jasper is losing the fight with his exhaustion, “Want you. . .”