Jason was dying.

And damnit, he wished death was faster.

He'd been struggling, running, starving in the dark forest for a whole month. Being able to shape-shift had made him last this long. But it was also the reason he got exiled in the first place.

He would've chuckled at the irony if he wasn't so damn tired.

He hated his father. He always had, and he would've gladly left the palace willingly. What he wasn't so happy about, was the fact his little Damon was still there. His little brother.

Gods, their father was going to eat him up now that Jason wasn't there to protect him, to take the anger for him. To take the whip for him.

He shifted as he leaned against a tree, wincing at how much his damn neck hurt. He'd encountered a bunch of wolves two weeks ago, and had shape-shifted into one to actually have a chance.

One of those assholes had bitten his neck, and injuries unfortunately stayed on his body when he shifted back. So here he was, with a clearly infected wound on his neck, sleep-deprived, starved and dehydrated.

And yet death didn't come for him.

Instead, you did. You were just walking through the forest when you found him. He looked up at you through his now greasy and dirty bangs and whispered with a hoarse voice.

"Please.. just.. just let me die."