CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

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                Jack soon realized that the entire castle must've witnessed his reaction to William's death last night. Everywhere he went, he was met with nervous glances and careful studying eyes, like they were waiting for him to wildly bat them all away with a stick.

When he sat down at the dining table, he pressed his lips together to the servants in the attempt to assure them that he wasn't going to suddenly scream and run away again. He'd been devising a careful plan since finding the wisp after all, because he knew now that it had to be a wisp, and the best course of action was to slip away in the middle of the night.

He supposed, in that sense, it didn't matter what others thought of him. He wouldn't be around much longer anyway.

And to think, all this time that he'd been looking for a way out, and all he'd had to do was look for wisps . . . though he did have to wonder why one was whispering to him now. Why not before?

"Jack!" Tiberius covered Jack's fist with his hand.

"Huh? What?"

"I called your name twice," he said, brows furrowed. "It's like you couldn't even hear me." He pressed the back of his fingers to Jack's forehead, then his cheek, then the side of his neck, and murmured, "No fever . . ."

"I'm not sick, Tiberius," Jack said edgily, swatting his hand away. "I just don't want to talk to you."

Tiberius wasn't buying it. "This is about what you saw in the hallway, isn't it? You've been distracted since."

"I'm always distracted."

"Not around me."

"Especially around you," Jack argued, and looked back at his untouched plate. "You said you'd give me time, but you've stuck to my side since I've been here."

"I'm not as strong as I'd like to be," he said.

Yeah, Jack thought, frustrated, neither am I. He stood.

"I'm done."

"You've hardly eaten a thing."

"Guess I'm just not hungry," he said. "You should stay, have some food."

"No," Tiberius said at once, catching Jack's hand and gently kissing his fingers. "All I want is you. Where would you like to go?"

Jack clenched his jaw and pulled his hand away. "Just my room, thanks."

"Great, I'll come with you."

"I'm going to bed, actually – and no, you can't come with me," he added as Tiberius looked like he was about to invite himself. "You gave me my own room for a reason, remember? Unless everything you said about not forcing yourself on me was a lie."

He made sure to sound concerned enough that Tiberius faltered. He shook his head, his humor gone and his voice softer. "Of course not, my darling. Good night then."

Goodbye, Jack thought in response, but his legs wouldn't move. What was wrong him? He wanted to go, he wanted to leave already. He wanted to be home. That was what his mind insisted, no matter the objections of his heart. Why couldn't he just move?

Licking his lips, Jack leaned up to press a gentle kiss to Tiberius's cheek. Tiberius inhaled sharply and turned slightly until his cheek was against Jack's.

Jack whispered, "It's not because I forgive you. I just . . . need it. Just this once."

And his body finally seemed to agree as it melted at the touch of Tiberius's skin against his own, as if finally releasing him from his tight hold, and, his eyes burning for a reason Jack couldn't fathom, he turned away and left the dining room. Hopefully, he told himself, for the last time.

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