Chapter 301

Slowly, Jackson nods. “I think the God of Death and Goddess of Life would be the most powerful, the most…capable of giving gifts like ours.” Jackson murmurs with a shrug. “I mean, think about it - do you think you could give someone a gift right now? Or your mom?”

I shake my head, considering it and knowing that it’s completely out of my realm of power.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “I think the demigods are out. But, amongst his near-Godly children…it could be them.”

I bite my lip, studying his face. “Which one do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, turning to stare at me. “It’s all speculation anyway. But…you asked what was on my mind,” he shrugs. “That’s what I’ve been turning over.”

“Maybe we need to spend more time in the library,” I sigh, curling close to my mate and stroking what I hope is a comforting hand over his hair. “Get some religious texts. Try to figure it out.”

“Or not,” he says, wrapping me up tight against him. “Finding out more doesn’t change anything. Our time would probably be better spent elsewhere.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, sensing that there’s…more to that statement than just Jackson trying to change the subject and move away from the question of who gave him his gift.

Jackson inhales a deep breath and then lets it out slowly, staring again at the ceiling. “I mean that…things are changing fast, Ariel. It’s not a coincidence that the War Games got moved up, and you discovered your new dark gift, and maybe even that Jesse got his powers now. I think…pieces are moving into alignment. I think something big is coming. Soon.”

“How soon?” I whisper, slipping my arm tighter around his body.

“Like, now soon,” Jackson says, turning his head to tuck mine beneath his chin. “Hank’s moving things up with the Community too. Making some…real moves there, attempting to push forward humanitarian aid.”

“What?” I breathe, shocked. I mean, I knew that Jackson has been continuing to talk to Hank but…I had no idea that Hank was actually making moves. I always imagined him just…collecting information.

“Yeah, I feel really conflicted about it,” Jackson murmurs, and I can feel down our bond just how much the news twists him with anxiety. “Because…I know that any move to change things within the Community from outside is going to put pressure on the most vulnerable inside it. That’s what they do – when change threatens, the people in charge in the Community take it out on the poor, making them even more resistant to change. I just…don’t want anyone to get hurt because I’ve been…”

He stops there, unable to say any more, clenching his jaw and covering his face with a hand, guilt rushing through him. My heart wrenches in my chest as I watch, as I feel worry and fear and remorse and shame all pulsing in his heart. Because we did this – me and my family – we pushed Jackson to take this role.

And he still has ties to that place, still has people there whom he loves, and who he doesn’t want to see hurting. Especially because of actions he took.

I murmur my mate’s name, reaching for his face, but he stays very still even when I touch him, trying to turn him towards me, to let him feel that it’s all right.

We stay that way for a long few minutes as Jackson takes deeper and deeper breaths, not understanding how he feels about any of it and just feeling very overwhelmed by it all.

“If it gets to be too much,” I whisper to him, “you can tell Hank you want to stop.”

Jackson lets out his breath in a long woosh of air. “But how could I do that? I know…I know, in the end, that Hank is right – that the Community is hurting people and that people are suffering inside without medical intervention. How could I stop that?”

“You’re allowed to put yourself first, Jacks,” I whisper. “Like you’d put me first, if you saw me hurting this badly. At the very least, you’re allowed to take breaks, to take time to think it over.”

Jackson groans a little, turning towards me, pulling me tight against his chest so that our stomachs line up, so that I can hook one leg over his in the way I like to, so I can press my cheek to his chest.

We don’t say anything for a long time and I can feel Jackson trying to figure out how he feels, and what is right, and where he fits in it all.

But through all of it, I can also feel that he’s exhausted.

“Come on, baby,” I whisper, reaching up and stroking a hand over his hair. “Let’s go to sleep. Go for a little cliff run as our wolves. We’re not getting anything sorted worrying about it, and we need the rest.”

After a moment, Jackson sighs and dips his head, pressing a kiss to the part of my hair. “You’re right,” he murmurs, giving me a last squeeze. “I shouldn’t have kept you up this long anyway.”

“Oh, you can keep me up anytime,” I murmur against him, lifting my head to press a kiss to his chest before I let my eyes fall shut. “I love you, and I like your mind, and I like hearing about your ideas.”

“You’re very sweet, princess goddess Sinclair,” Jackson sighs, making me smile.

I can feel it as he falls asleep, glad that he’s found his rest. And even if I’m incredibly eager to join him in that state, to go for the run that I promised him – I have to admit that I’m disturbed by Jackson’s predictions for the future. Is it really so stark as all that?

Are all the pieces falling into place for something much, much larger than us?

And if change is coming…how long do I have left to enjoy this life, which I love so much?

When Jackson wakes me up the next morning bright and early for my sniping practice, I pretend to moan and complain as I always do, even though I’m thrilled to be up. I flop around in the bed, making him pull me up into his arms and set me on my feet before he passes me my little jolt of morning energy.

“Thanks,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

“Out!” Rafe calls from his bed, rolling over and pulling his pillow over his head. “None of that!”

“Sorry!” I call out to my brother, keeping my voice low as I grimace, hating to have woken him.

“Banished forever,” Jesse mumbles from his own bed, pointing a stern finger at the door.

I just smirk at Jesse, because I know he wandered in late and probably got less sleep than all of us, before quickly and quietly getting cleaned up and ready for my day. When that’s all done, Jackson takes my hand in his and we both head for the door, ready for sniping practice.

Jackson and I talk quietly in the morning light, again going over what happened in the Game yesterday, me giving him the details of all the shots that I took and discussing different ways I could have done it, perhaps improved my performance.

I’m so lost in the discussion that I don’t even notice someone standing at the bottom of my blind until they clear their throat, making my whip my head up in surprise to stare at the Captain, standing there with his arms crossed.

“Cadet Clark,” he says, raising an eyebrow at Jackson and looking him up and down. “I was unaware that you were bringing…guests along to your morning practice.”

“For her safety, sir,” Jackson says, standing up straight and giving him a little salute. The Captain looks at Jackson like he doubts that my safety is the main priority here, but he doesn’t say anything. “And,” Jackson says, glancing down at me, “I have some ideas on how Clark’s training can be improved.”

My eyes go wide as I look up at Jacks because…what? He didn’t say anything about that!