“I see,” he says quietly, standing to search for his discarded shirt.

  “It’s not… it’s not you,” I say, unsure which one of us I’m trying to convince.

  He pulls my shirt over his head and flashes that painfully cheerful fake smile. “It’s fine, Bash. You needed to let off steam, and that’s…” His voice falters before he steadies it. “That’s what I’m good at. What I’m… here for.”

  “Xeni, no—wait,” I call as he turns toward the door, shoulders thrown back in false bravado. “Don’t go. Not like this.”

  He hesitates with his hand on the knob before glancing over his shoulder. I yank my shorts up and stand, blatantly aware of the fluids drying on my stomach and thighs. Neither of us knows what to say, but eventually, Xeni breaks the silence.

  “Do you remember me telling you about my father?” he asks.

  I force a rough swallow as I nod.

  Xeni rarely spoke of his childhood or family, even to me. My stories of loving parents were met with quiet longing he tried to hide. I could picture him as a child, seeking approval from strict military parents who saw him as little more than an order fulfilled.

  They were encouraged to repopulate after the rifts closed.

  Produce the future and pass on the superior genetics.

  He was raised by caretakers then shipped to a military academy while his parents lived their crafted life without him. Only when he earned accolades in Project V did they notice, and even then, affection was never given.

  It always made me sick.

  Xeni’s gaze drops to the knob, sex-rumpled hair curtaining his face in a white veil that hides the storm brewing behind it.

  “My whole life, I’ve been a pawn,” he says into the suffocating silence. “A piece in someone else’s game. I’m… used to being used, Bash.”

  He glances up briefly, just long enough for me to catch the sadness in his eye. “If I’m going to be used by anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

  “That’s not what this is,” I insist.

  He shakes his head while staring at the floor. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. I’ll stay out of your way, and I’ll… I’ll wait for you. I can be patient. I know you don't think I can be, but I can,” he says, not taking a moment to breathe.

  “Xen—” I try to interrupt, but it's like he doesn't even hear me.

  He shakes his head in a movement that feels manic. “I can,” he insists again. “I’ve waited this long. I’ll be good… I promise I can be good.”

  His voice chokes on the last word, and he takes a deep breath that squares his shoulders again. The fragile armor he hides behind rebuilds itself in real time, piece by piece until he’s steady.

  “Whatever you need, and whenever you need it, I’ll give it to you, okay?” he says. “Anything. Just please don’t make me leave. You don’t have to love me back, and you don’t have to pretend. I won’t ask that of you.”

  I reach for him, desperate to pull him back—to scream that of course I love him, and that we’ll figure this out together, then wrap him in my arms and shield him from any more pain.

  But this time I’m the source of that pain, and despite the years I spent wishing I could break his heart just like he broke mine, the reality is not what the fantasy pretended it might be.

  There’s no righteous vindication.

  No balancing of the scales or righting the wrongs of our past.

  There’s no pleasure in the pain I’ve caused him, no satisfaction in watching him offer himself up like a sacrifice.

  There’s only guilt like a knife in my gut.

  Someone calls my name from down the hall. Before I can force my lips to move, Xeni twists the knob and flees, escaping the danger.

  Escaping me.

  Ego approaches the open door timidly, and her eyes widen at my state. I swipe a hand over my face, frantically searching for my shirt as she stands there, mouth open.

  “What?” I snap, voice fragile.

  Her lips purse in sympathy. “Everyone’s in the conference room waiting.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I mutter as I scrub at my eyes. “Give me a minute.”

  “Sure thing, boss,” she says before hesitating. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “I’m not even sure there’s anything I can do,” I admit.

  She shuffles between her feet. Ego is not one for discussions of feelings, so I wave her on without meeting her eyes.

  “Go on. I’ll be there shortly.”

  She sighs and walks away. I take a few minutes to compose myself before stepping into the hall, wondering where Xeni ran and fighting every urge to chase him.

  Xeni

  Voices carry through the hallway as I pace. The cheerful murmur of conversation is interrupted by occasional bursts of laughter. They’re easy, effortless sounds for those who grew up surrounded by friends or a loving family.

  For someone who never quite learned the rhythm of belonging, they’re hard to hear.

  Bash’s calm timbre isn’t among them, and I don’t know if our mutual isolation makes me feel better or worse.

  I haven’t seen him since I fled his room this morning. The memory of his touch still seared hot on my skin as I left. It burned in places I’d forgotten could feel alive, and the ghost of it lingers, despite the hours that have passed.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have run.

  Maybe I should’ve been brave and stayed to face whatever came next, but staying would’ve given him the chance to voice all those things that were brewing on his tongue.

  The gentle dismissals.

  The careful excuses.

  The insistence that what happened was a mistake, and yes, he was using me, and no, I shouldn’t read into it too much.

  That we were just two bodies coming together because it’s all we’ve ever known how to do.

  My arms bind tighter around my chest, hugging as if I could hold myself intact. Waking up surrounded by his scent had felt so natural, so right, after years of everything feeling wrong, but I know what this morning was.

  Pity.

  He’s always had compassion in spades, and he offered it to me in a moment of vulnerability. He let himself forget long enough to give me a taste of something authentic.

  Comfort, perhaps, or nothing more than a dose of synthetic love.

  Whatever it was, it shocked my system and let me believe it was the real thing. It gave me a high, and the comedown left me scattered.

  My stomach growls again, but the churning in my gut won’t allow food. I’m starving… empty in a way no meal could fill. Pushing another sigh through my nose, I follow my senses.

  I walk that invisible path between his heart and mine.

  People stare as I pass, and a few cower, but they’ve stopped trying to contain me to that room when I don’t want to be contained.

  I turn a corner to find a plain metal door, and when I open it, fresh air blows down the stairwell. Clouds litter the sky, veiling the sunset and bringing the scent of distant rain as I climb towards them.

  The rooftop is more cheerful than it has any right to be. Leafy potted plants thrive along one edge, and metal chairs with colorful, sun-weathered cushions scatter sporadically around the area. Off in the far corner, a cluster of them faces away, and a familiar frame sits alone.

  Gravel crunches under my feet, but Bash doesn’t flinch as I approach.

  “Hey,” he says softly.

  “Hey.”

  “I felt you coming.” He rubs his hip and glances over his shoulder at me. “Weird how that still happens, isn’t it?”

  “I missed it,” I admit.

  His face twists into something unreadable before he turns forward again.

  “After you were gone, I’d sit there sometimes and wish for it,” I say. “Close my eyes and beg for some little sign of your presence.”

  Bash releases a long, exhausted sigh that seems to pull from the depths of his bones and shakes his head.

  “What are we going to do, Xen?”

  My heart kicks to life in my chest, and I'm hit with a sudden, foolish surge of hope at the simple intimacy of the question. I cling to that fragile thread, despite knowing how easily it could be severed.

  “About what?”

  His laugh is more scoff than humor, bitter and weary as it escapes him, and he’s distant as he shakes his head again.

  “Any of this.”

  I step closer and hesitate before dragging my fingertips along the back of his neck. Goosebumps chase my touch, and a tiny smile tilts my lips as he shivers.

  “We don’t have to decide now.” My voice is soft as I move to stand beside him, hand still resting on his nape.

  He angles his face up with his tongue flicking between his lips, and though I want to kiss him, I hold back.

  He absently rubs at his hip as his gaze falls back over the skyline, and I track the motion as my mark flares in response.

  “I was never sure how much of what they did to me affected you,” I say softly. “I hated that part of it the most.”

  Bash is quiet for a long stretch as we both stare out into the dying light over the city.

  “There were times it would hurt,” he says finally, “but I don’t know if that was because of what they were doing to you or just because…”

  “Because what?” I press when he leaves the words hanging.

  “Because I missed you,” he admits in a whisper.

  That foolish seed of hope grows roots, fueled by the insistent pound of my heart. I circle in front of him, and he doesn’t stop me as I sink into his lap.

  For a moment I’m stiff, waiting for the inevitable rejection, but Bash bands his arms around my waist. My back meets his chest, and his sigh dances between relief and regret.

  His breath is steady in my ear, but his pulse jumps in as frantic a rhythm as mine. Timid fingers tiptoe along my hipbone, circling that cursed mark.

  My biggest fear and greatest joy, diminished to ash under my skin.

  “Tell me about the people you’re with,” he says, and when I tilt my face to look at him, our cheeks brush.

  I fight the urge to kiss him once more and settle in, sharing the history of our group. How Ronan and Cameron found each other and freed Nyx, how August worked at the clinic with me until he and Elas escaped. Bash grows unnaturally quiet, and I twist my head towards him again.

  “Did you fall for him?” he asks softly.

  My brows snap together. “What?”

  “August.” When I give my head a confused toss, he sighs. “I know you, Xeni. You talk about him differently than the others, and you said his mate was jealous. Was he… did you…”

  “He has your eyes,” I admit in a whisper, twisting to stare into them. “The first time I saw them, they were so much like yours that I thought… maybe I could eventually move on.”

  “And did you?” His gaze lingers on my mouth before flicking back up. “Move on?”

  “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “He was with Elas, and I…”

  “You…?”

  I sigh with a helpless shrug. “I was in love with your ghost. There was nothing left to offer anyone besides you, Bash.”

  His hand weaves through my hair and tugs me forward, pressing a kiss to my lips so faint it’s barely more than shared breath.

  I bite my lip as he pulls back. “You and Cato?”

  His smile is rueful, bordering on embarrassed as he shakes his head. “I tried to move on, too. It didn’t work well for me either.”

  My nostrils flare as jealous anger builds inside my chest, and Bash tracks it in that observant way he’s always had about him. He guides me to recline against him, and his fingers slip underneath my shirt to brush at the bare skin of my hip. Static crackles between us, enough to make me draw in a sharp breath, but he only continues with the gentle, calming swirl of his fingertips.

  “Finish your story,” he says. “Tell me more.”

  Fighting through how his touch demands my attention, I force myself to talk. I give him every gritty detail of Ljómur’s destruction and everything we’ve learned since then—the portals, the way they react to the magic, our desire to open them.

  “What do they want to do if they can open them?”

  “Go through,” I say with a flourish of my hand. “Fulfill the prophecy and try to fix this world.”

  “You think that’s possible?” he asks.

  I pause, closing my eye as the sun shines its final rays over the city. I savor the warmth of his body against mine as I shrug. “Anything’s possible. I think it’s worth trying.”

  “And you need me?”

  “I’ve always needed you,” I whisper.

  He takes in a shuddering breath as he dips his finger lower, pushing it under the waist of my pants.

  “Why’d you come after all this time, Xen?” he asks, voice quiet.

  “Because we need your help,” I say, the words tumbling out on autopilot. “Your research could be the missing piece—”

  His arms band tighter around my middle. “That’s not why.”

  I take a deep breath, shoving aside the story I told the others so many times that I'd tried to believe it myself.

  Instead, I give him the truth.

  “No, you're right,” I admit. “It isn’t. I came because I’m selfish. Because they think I’m dead, and because every moment of every day since I watched them drag you away, I’ve been desperate to get you back. And then that place blew up, and the rubble hadn’t even settled before I realized this meant I might be able to have you.”

  He hums thoughtfully, and I glance over at his expression. “Even after you read my name in the list of casualties, you knew I wasn’t dead.”

  The soft brush of his fingers turns firm as he grips my hipbone and holds it against his body. “I knew.”

  “Your mark,” I realize.

  We’d seen firsthand the results of one mate dying and leaving the other behind in this world. He would’ve recognized the signs right away, and I feel like an idiot for not considering it sooner.

  “It didn’t change, no, but that wasn’t how I knew. If something had happened to you, I would’ve felt it.”

  “Do you wish it had?” I force the words out despite my fear of his answer. “Do you wish I’d died in that explosion?”

  “Of course not, Xen.”

  “You would’ve been free of me.”

  Bash’s other hand snakes around my chest and hugs me against him. His fingers are still tucked inside my waistband, and I haven’t felt this safe in years. His lips press against the curve of my shoulder and move up my neck, and I tilt my head as I shiver.

  “I’ll never be free of you,” he murmurs against my skin.

  “Do you want to be?”

  He draws a lengthy, steadying breath and rests his forehead on my shoulder. The light fades further, and disappointment chokes me when he never answers.

  When he finally speaks, the quiet has stretched so long the words startle me.

  “What would’ve happened if we’d never been caught?” he asks. “Would we have stayed there forever, or would we have run away?”

  “I couldn’t have risked running,” I answer without hesitation. “They would’ve never stopped looking for us.”

  He sighs again, and I can feel his frustration growing as he asks, “What makes you think we’re that important?”

  Stars have emerged in the sky above us, dotting between the breaks in the clouds. They aren’t nearly as bright as the ones we see at the village, but they’re still beautiful.

  “We knew too much, Bash.”

  “It’s nice to picture, though, isn’t it? That we could’ve left that life behind?” He hugs me tighter. “Where would we have gone?”

  A smile threatens my lips as his fingers resume their slow perusal of my skin. “To the ocean.”

  “Mmm,” he agrees with another of those gentle kisses to my neck. “We could’ve found a little hidden strip of land. Had a hut right on the water… a hammock between two trees, and sand everywhere.”

  “You hate the sand,” I say.

  His cheeks lift in a smile. “Yeah, I do. I would’ve gotten over it, though. We could’ve built a home—”

  “You would’ve built it,” I tease as my smile grows along with his, “while I watched and shouted praise from the shade.”

  “Spoiled princess.”

  A soft chuckle leaves me. “You love it.”

  “Yeah,” he whispers with a cutting edge of sadness. “Yeah, I do.”

  The air thickens again as I sense his withdrawal. Things have gotten too honest, too raw, and he’s shutting down. He tries to pull his hand back from my hip, but I reach down and clutch his wrist.

  “Don’t go,” I beg into the night. “Not yet. Stay with me a little longer.”

  He rests his forehead against my shoulder, and his swallow is audible in the quiet. “This is so fucking hard, Xen. We can sit here and talk about what might’ve been, but it doesn’t change reality. What did you think would happen when you showed up? That I would just forget everything you did?”

  “Not forget, no,” I force myself to say. “Forgive, maybe.”

  “I can’t pick up my life and follow you on this wild quest. Not when you can’t guarantee you won’t leave me again.”

  “I won’t,” I swear, but allow him to pull his hand away. I spin, letting my knees fall on either side of his hips.

  His eyes are pleading as they lift to mine. “What happens to me if you do?”

  One of his hands reaches for my face, brushing my cheekbone and tracing my lower lip.

  “I loved you too much, Xen. Look where it got me.”

  “Loved?”

  “Don’t,” he pleads as a fresh wave of devastation sweeps over him.

  “They had to sedate me, you know,” I whisper. “After they pulled you away from me. For weeks, I was locked in a room with enough drugs in my system to knock out someone twice my size. Every time I regained consciousness, I exploded. I screamed so loud my vocal cords swelled shut, and I threw myself against the door until I broke my arm.”

  “There was no emotion on your face,” he says, and the accusation cuts deep. “When they dragged me away from you, you just watched. You didn’t even fight… it was like you didn’t fucking care.”