His eye moves up to mine with a hint of his usual rebellious fire shimmering inside it, but I’m too mad to appreciate the spark.

  “Why are you doing this?” I demand.

  Xeni holds my gaze for a stretch before nodding towards Cato. “I probably owe Big Red over there for threatening to send him out the window.”

  Cato snorts a laugh, but I only shake my head.

  “This isn’t some sort of joke, Xen! You could get captured or killed, and then what the fuck would I do?”

  He stares at me for a moment longer before he sets his jaw in that stubborn jut. “My mind is made up. Lock me back in that room if you want, but you know I could’ve gotten free any time I wanted. I’m here, so let me help.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need you to remember I’m not the bad guy.”

  Xeni’s words—my words from that night on the roof—are whisper-quiet, but they hit me like he shouted.

  His mask finally slips, and he pushes his fingers into his hair and tugs. My chest aches as I recognize the way he’s hurting himself to regain some control.

  I charge over and drag him into the hallway. “That’s not why you’re doing this,” I say as I turn to face him, “and I didn’t mean that.”

  “It is, and you did mean it,” he responds softly. “Ever since Ljómur was destroyed, I have been trying to figure out what the Fates were doing with me. What was the point of everything? Ronan and Cameron needed to find each other at that moment because they were the catalysts. They started all of this. Elas found August because that led Reyes to Nyx. All of that makes sense… it has purpose.”

  He shifts, crossing his arms like he’s holding himself back. “But this? Me and you? I can’t figure out why the Fates gave me the best three years of my life just to take it away.”

  My anger falters as he lets his shoulders fall against the wall, staring down at the hidden mark on his hip.

  “Was it punishment for everything I did when I was younger? Atonement for the mates I sent to that place?”

  “So you run into danger, and for what?” I demand. “What does that prove? That you’re reckless? Self-destructing? That you don’t care about your own fucking life? Because I do, Xen.”

  Xeni is quiet as he shrugs and picks at the sleeve of his shirt, fingers worrying a worn thread. “For so long, everything about us has been angry or sad,” he says, “but it wasn’t always that way, Bash. We were good together. Being with you at Zaya’s reminded me of how happy we used to be… how happy we could be again.”

  He bites at his lip for a moment, then meets my eyes. “You still love me,” he whispers, the words fragile, almost afraid to exist. “You can’t help it, and a piece of you hates it.”

  My heart stutters, caught between the truth of it and the terror of admitting it. The undeniable fact hangs heavy between us, impossible to ignore.

  Xeni’s lips curve into a sad smile. It’s not surrender, but recognition.

  It’s the acknowledgment of every crack we’ve carved into each other.

  He draws in another slow breath as he takes my hand and urges me closer. “These past few days haven’t changed the truth. Part of you still wants to drag me to those gates, shove me out, and tell me to leave for good… and that part? It’ll never be mine. Even if you came back to me, slid that ring on my finger again and swore I was yours, that little piece would never really belong to me.”

  He hooks my neck and draws me in close. “I need you to belong to me again.”

  I close the distance between us, and the kiss is slow, deliberate, and achingly tender.

  Not frantic or desperate.

  No race to some fleeting escape, but the kind that savors every breath and brush of lips.

  When he finally pulls away, his hand slides to cradle my face, thumb tracing my bottom lip with reverence that cracks something deep inside my chest.

  “I won’t settle for a love that’s less,” he whispers. “Not from you. Not after what we were.”

  “I can try,” I plead, hating how the corners of his mouth soften into that quiet acceptance.

  He sees the truth in me… the one I haven’t even admitted to myself yet.

  “We’re talking instead of fighting now,” I continue, “and we had fun that night. We can give this time… we have time, Xen. You just found me.”

  “You and I both know how well you hold a grudge.”

  My half-smile wobbles as I lay my head on his shoulder. He pulls me into a hug, his palms stroking up and down my back.

  “I would wait forever for you, Sebastian. Be angry. You’re allowed. Scream at me, fight me, tell me you hate me. I’ll take it, darling. Whatever you need to do, do it. I deserve it.”

  “Don’t say that,” I murmur as he presses a soft kiss to my temple.

  “The truth is a hard mirror to look into sometimes,” he responds as he pulls back. “I can’t keep hiding from it.”

  He doesn’t look away from me, and doesn’t flinch at the reflection staring back at him in my eyes.

  There’s no armor left in his gaze.

  No practiced mask.

  For the first time since he’s been back, he’s stripped bare.

  He’s Xeni, without trying to be anything more.

  My throat dips in a swallow as he presses another kiss to my cheek, then drags his lips to the corner of my mouth. I twist my face to meet him, and he’s so tender as he kisses me like we have all the time in the world. Patient lips and soft breaths, and the gentlest swipe of his tongue over mine.

  I want to convince him we’ll find another way, and that he should stay behind and try to make this work, but as hard as it is to admit, he’s right.

  A part of me is locked up tight, and it refuses to move on from the hurt. It’s caged—stuck—and I don’t know how to free it so it can belong to him again.

  So I can belong to him again.

  “I won’t beg you to stay,” I say once we separate.

  “I wish you would,” he admits in a murmur, “but I understand why you won’t.” We hold each other’s gaze for another long moment before he leans in and kisses me one last time.

  “Those nosy little shits are eavesdropping,” he says louder, and a frantic shuffling brings a tiny, sad smile to both our faces.

  Xeni swipes his thumb over my lip once more. “We’re going to go back in there and come up with a plan now, alright?”

  “Yeah… alright,” I whisper. As I move to pull away, he holds me there. The intensity in his stare steals my breath, but he doesn’t say anything else. He only releases his hold on me and walks into the room as I stand here, completely and utterly defeated.

  Xeni

  Wednesday morning arrives in a blur of endless questions and meticulous planning. Maps with scribbled escape routes have been shoved in my face, and diagrams of the prison layout handed over like I’m supposed to memorize every detail overnight.

  They’ve even given me a list of the soldiers known to work at the supply distribution center, as if knowing Da’qual the two-stripe Curtiphan drove the truck seventeen weeks ago will somehow save the day.

  Bash has barely left the conference room since I burst in with my plan. He’s keeping his distance, but whenever I glance up, his eyes are on me. What started as worry on his face has shifted to frustration, and now it’s edged with outright anger.

  I’m starting to think my plan is backfiring spectacularly.

  It all seemed so logical in my head at the time. I’d just stepped out of the shower and was heading to his room, ready to remind him again how perfectly we fit together.

  I’ve got no pride left when it comes to him. Pleading with him to love me back won’t make it so, but I’d beg night and day if it shifted the needle even a nudge in my direction.

  Then I overheard them talking about Cato’s brother, and I seized the chance.

  Two birds, one stone.

  Begrudgingly save Gideon, and show I can be selfless.

  Bash has always had a touch of hero worship. He grew up devouring comic books, reading about the good guys who swoop in to save the day, and never outgrew his need for justice. He told me countless stories of running around as a kid with a tablecloth tied around his shoulders in a makeshift cape, saving his action figures from certain doom.

  It’s a stark contrast to how I was raised. I was taught to take what I wanted without caring who I took it from. Consequences were for those beneath us, or so my father drilled into me.

  Real winner, my pops.

  Bash’s need to play the hero and his tendency to always put others first made the plan feel foolproof in my mind.

  Save the day.

  Get the guy.

  Only now he’s pulled away again. He’s wrapped himself up tight and surrounded himself with his friends, all the while refusing to be alone with me.

  Once again, I’m the outsider.

  After everyone crashed last night, I ended up at his bedroom door, knocking and calling for him. Even without hearing the rustle of blankets, I sensed him there.

  My heart felt his presence, but he never came.

  Minutes dragged on, and after an embarrassing amount of time, I slunk back to my dark, lonely bed in that tiny windowless room.

  The razor sat on the bathroom sink, whispering my name. My sweating palms shook as I fought the urge to carve away some of this suffocating loneliness.

  But I promised him I wouldn’t, and the thread holding us together is fraying thin as it is. One wrong move, and I’m terrified it’ll snap.

  The smell of my armor turns my stomach as I secure the clasps, and as I slide my gloves over my hands, a soft knock sounds at the door.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready,” I mutter.

  The door swings open, and I expect Ego, but Bash steps inside instead.

  “Hey,” he says cautiously, eyes tracing up my frame. “It’s weird seeing you in the uniform.”

  “Weirder to wear it.”

  He nods, gripping the back of his neck. “Yeah, probably.”

  Awkward silence stretches between us, thick and uncomfortable in a way it never used to be.

  “Xeni—” he starts, just as I say, “Listen,” and we both fall quiet.

  “You go,” I say.

  He glances into the bathroom. “I should’ve checked on you last night.”

  My gaze follows his to the razor on the sink’s edge, and when I look back at him, there’s a silent question in his eyes.

  “I didn’t,” I say softly. “I promised you I wouldn’t, so I didn’t.”

  He releases a shaky exhale. “Did you want to?”

  My shoulder lifts in a helpless shrug, but I give him the honesty he asked for as I nod. “Yes.”

  He nods too, but it feels forced. His arms cross high over his chest as his face tightens, lips pulling into a tense line and a muscle ticking in his cheek.

  Silence lingers again until he blurts, “Don’t do this for me. Don’t put yourself in danger trying to prove something. You don’t have to, Xen. You don’t need to play martyr to remind me you’re not the enemy. I know you’re not.”

  “Maybe,” I concede. “Maybe you know that, or maybe you just want to believe it. But I know you, Bash, and I know what actions mean to you.”

  I take a cautious step forward, and he doesn’t back away as I rest my hand on his chest. “There’s a long way between ‘not the enemy’ and…”

  “And?” he prompts when I trail off.

  “And someone you used to love.”

  “Used to,” he mutters.

  A deep breath fills my lungs as my heart pounds. “Someone you might… learn to love again?”

  “Whatever happened to being patient?” he asks with a soft teasing in his voice that sends my nerves skyrocketing. “I have to remember how to like you first.”

  A real grin spreads across his lips. It’s the first genuine one I’ve seen since I arrived, and gods, it melts me.

  I step closer, drawn to his lightness, but hesitate and instead only return his smile.

  “Whatever it takes, darling.”

  He clocks my uncertainty and closes the gap between us in one fluid step, then wraps his arms around my neck, fingers threading into my hair.

  “Tell you what,” he says. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

  I hug his waist instinctively, clinging to the solid comfort of having him close. “Mmm, a proposition,” I say, forcing a playful edge to my voice. “Consider my interest piqued.”

  A half-grin tips his lips lopsided. “If you promise you’ll come back safely, I’ll take you on a date.”

  “Will you now?” I tilt my head, smile widening despite myself. “What kind of date?”

  “Dinner and a movie, perhaps,” he teases, his thumb tracing idle circles at the nape of my neck.

  My smile stretches further. “If memory serves, that was our first date once upon a time.”

  “Maybe it could be our… second first date?” he says, eyes searching mine with that quiet intensity.

  My eye closes as I take a deep inhale, hope flooding my chest in a reckless rush despite my best efforts to dam it up.

  “Don’t assume I’ll fuck on the first date,” I finally say.

  He coughs in surprise, a startled laugh bubbling up as his cheeks darken with a flush that’s utterly endearing. “You did last time.”

  “Yeah,” I breathe, as I lean in closer, forehead resting against his. “I guess I did.”

  “We didn’t even make it to the date,” he says with a quiet laugh.

  “No,” I agree. “We definitely didn’t.”

  Our laughter fades as my heart thunders, and Bash guides me closer until our noses brush.

  “Come back to me,” he whispers. “I know I’ve been difficult—”

  “I understand why you have been,” I interrupt.

  He shakes his head with a sigh. “The anger was just… fucking heavy, Xen, and after carrying it so long, I wanted you to feel it too. I wanted to stay mad.”

  “You had every right to be.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” he murmurs, his eyes locking onto mine, raw and unguarded in a way I haven’t seen since I walked back into his life. “There are three versions of you in my head. The one I loved so damn much, the one I hated for walking away, and now this one, standing right here. And I don’t know what to do with the Xeni in front of me.”

  “I know I’ve changed.”

  “So have I,” he admits in a low voice. “Life didn’t exactly hand us a choice, did it?”

  I grunt in agreement, the sound thick in my throat as his fingers scrape along my nape. I’m breathless under the weight of his nearness, watching those intelligent eyes wrestle with our reality.

  He focuses again, that sad smile cutting deeper than any anger ever could. “I wanted to hate you for so long that I forgot there was another choice.”

  “What choice?” I breathe.

  He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips like a confession. “To not hate you.”

  There are more words there, words I desperately crave, but as he opens his mouth, I pull him tighter and kiss him deeper. His groan is sweet, and he melts into my arms. My hands slide lower to grip his ass, and he smiles against my lips.

  Footsteps echo in the hallway and snap us back to reality.

  “This conversation isn’t done,” he whispers, stealing one last kiss.

  “So we’ll talk more about the whole first-date fuck when I get back?” I tease as I nip his bottom lip.

  “Xeni!” he gasps, barking a startled laugh as he shoves at my chest.

  The shy innocence in his wide eyes takes me back in time, dragging me straight to the old Bash.

  I can’t help it as I scoop him into another hug, burying my face in his neck just to feel him shiver. “Gods, I missed making you blush like that,” I tease.

  “Ready?” Ego shouts as she barges in, then freezes mid-step. “Oh, okay, wow, we’ve moved straight to PDA. I’ll just… give you two a moment… or ten.”

  Bash clears his throat, stepping back with that flush still burning hot, and rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to hide the evidence.

  I grin, and it feels natural for the first time in years.

  “It’s alright,” I say to Ego, though my eye is locked on Bash. “We have a schedule to keep, and I’m looking forward to getting back tonight.”

  “Oh, my gods, Xeni,” Bash mutters as he shoots me a glare that’s half mortified, half amused.

  I smile wider.

  My fingers graze Bash’s forearm as I pass, and he grabs my hand to stop me. My smile fades as I turn, and he yanks me down for another kiss, audience be damned.

  “Be careful?” he whispers.

  “Always,” I promise, squeezing his hand once more before joining the group in the hall.

  Xeni

  The engine purrs beneath me as I glance at Leuce, the Anunian female driving the delivery truck. She’s indifferent to the point of boredom, which only makes me more suspicious.

  The fates are either blessing me or setting me up for the ultimate letdown, because everything has gone far too smoothly.

  The guards at the distribution center didn’t bat an eye at my ID. Since my old fake name was compromised, Ego created a new persona for me as Alexise and even swapped the four rows on my uniform to two so people wouldn’t expect much from me. The eyepatch is the only standout identifier left, but there’s little to be done about that.

  My new ID was suspiciously identical to my old one, and when I questioned Ego about it, she cackled. Apparently, she made my original.

  And severely ripped me off.

  She found it endlessly hilarious that she’d overcharged the guy who sourced it for me, and insisted on digging through her records to show me the receipt.

  Ass.

  The rest of the plan went without a hitch. The second soldier assigned to delivery duty was easily convinced the scheduling office had made a mistake. I didn’t even have to use my powers to send him off to take advantage of a free afternoon.

  Leuce arrived to drive the truck and shrugged me off when I tried to explain the change in her partner for the day. She didn’t care, so I didn’t out myself by over-explaining.