When fate and worlds collide

23 | Puzzle Pieces

I found Xavier watching the courtyard with that quiet attentiveness of his, the way he always seemed to notice what I didn’t want anyone else to see.

“So, to answer your question… do our people think you’re selfish?” he asked, turning to me, his gaze warm, steady. “No. They don’t. They could never give enough back to repay what you’ve done for them.” My chest tightened, and the switch inside me flickered uncomfortably, nudging at the edge of my control, whispering for tears that I stubbornly refused to let fall.

“Thank you, Xavier,” I said, offering him a small, genuine smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d definitely be bored on a daily basis,” he joked, and I couldn’t help the corner of my lips twitching.

“Well,” I murmured, letting a sigh slip, “I hope you like entertaining me, because you’re going to get a lot more practice.” His brow furrowed in confusion. I shook my head, letting the words spill. “Liam and I… we’ve come to an agreement.” The amusement vanished from his face. Xavier had never liked Liam, not really. Even with the history they shared before the fall, he always struggled to reconcile Liam’s presence with his need for control, especially when I was on the line.

“I’m sorry for not helping you the other day,” he admitted quietly, jaw tight. “I should have stayed. Tried harder to keep him under control.”

“You know he would have seen it as a challenge,” I replied, brushing it off. “He would have killed you, Xav. I don’t need rescuing.” I tilted my head back, letting out a soft sigh.

“You’re basically my family, Na-na,” he muttered, and I couldn’t help but give a small, teasing scowl at the pet name. What had started as a way to provoke me had quietly evolved into something like affection over time.

“I gave up Alpha because I didn’t think I could lead,” I answered, exhaling. “I gave it to someone I thought could. Turns out, it’s not as simple as swapping roles.”

“No s**t,” he muttered under his breath, glancing at me. Then he smirked. “I don’t need to start wearing headphones again during your… ‘meetings’ with him, do I?” I made a face, remembering all too well. Before Liam and I had reined in the bond, our interactions had included… distractions. Noise-canceling headphones had been his only salvation, and even then, the vibrations of the Tower had a way of giving him away.

“No,” I admitted. “Things are different now. Out of the whole Tower, him and I are the only ones not fully working together. It goes against everything I’ve tried to build. I’m not exempt from those rules.”

“So…” Xavier’s voice was cautious, almost teasing. “What’s the agreement now?”

“My scouts have been cut to twice a fortnight,” I muttered, bracing myself. Xavier staggered back a step, feigning shock.

“And you agreed?” he whistled, clearly impressed. I jabbed him in the arm.

“Don’t get excited,” I snapped. “I have to take you with me when I go.” He made a face, muttering something under his breath. I raised a brow.

“Anything else?”

“I have to attend the council meetings,” I added. His laughter burst out before I could even blink, full and unrestrained.

“In return,” I sighed, “he stops trying to force this bond. Stops trying to control every little thing I do.” I couldn’t shake the feeling that the deal was still skewed in his favor, no matter how hard I pretended otherwise.

“And you believe he’ll actually listen this time?” Xavier asked. I paused, letting the question settle over me. It was a fair point. Liam had a habit of circling back, of retreating to the person he’d always been.

“I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. Something felt… different this time. Like something actually shifted inside him. Time will tell if I’m right.”

“And if you’re not?” His tone was soft, probing, and my chest tightened.

“I’ll have to re-evaluate whether he’s the right fit as Alpha for the Tower,” I admitted, the knot in my stomach coiling tighter at the thought. “Alright,” I added, moving before he could respond, determination bristling through my words. “Let’s do the rounds before it gets too hot. I don’t intend to be sweating like a pig all day.” Xavier opened his mouth to reply, but I didn’t wait. I had made my decision, and sometimes, it was better not to hear the arguments that might make me second-guess it.

After the rounds—checking in on the new recruits, trading blows in a few sparring sessions, and making mental notes about what was breaking, leaking, or on its last legs—Xavier and I climbed higher up the Tower. We assessed damage as we went, cataloged what we’d need to scavenge on the next run, and pretended we weren’t both already planning three different contingencies for when things went wrong.

I hadn’t seen Liam once. That didn’t mean he wasn’t there. I felt him in the war room—felt the weight of his presence like a pressure change before a storm. When my thoughts drifted and I brushed his mind without meaning to, guilt flared sharp and unwelcome. I pulled back immediately, jaw tightening, and followed Xavier in silence.

We ended up in our usual spot near the top of the Tower, legs dangling over the edge, the city yawning beneath us. The quiet between us stretched long and easy, the kind that didn’t demand to be filled. The kind that carried more truth than conversation ever could.

I never got tired of this view.

The city was shattered—buildings cracked open like old bones, streets scarred and broken—but threaded through the ruin was life. Gardens climbing out of rubble. Smoke from cookfires. Movement. Community. Proof that decay didn’t always win. Xavier’s hand rested over mine, his thumb rubbing slow, absent circles. It was a small thing. An intimate thing. One I would never allow from anyone else.

I didn’t fully understand the way we connected. I’d stopped trying a long time ago.

His power brushed mine, familiar and steady—second only to Rowan’s in strength. When I first dragged him back to the Tower, I’d thought he was just another capable fighter. It took weeks to realize the truth.

First-gen Aura. Like me.

After getting caught out in the city together more times than I cared to count, after hauling each other out of situations neither of us should’ve survived, it became obvious our powers resonated in a way I’d never felt before. Since then, he’d stayed close. Close to me. Close to Rowan. Protective without possession. Present without ever crossing a line. Not for the first time, I wondered.

If I’d met him first… would he have made a better Alpha?

Would we have worked better together than Liam and I ever had?

Would I have let him in differently?

Or was the reason we worked at all because we’d grown as friends first—without bonds, titles, or expectations strangling us from the start?

“What’s troubling you?” Xavier asked quietly. The question pulled me from my thoughts. I looked at him, at the flecks of green scattered through the blue of his eyes like moss in clear water. I turned back to the city.

“Same old. Same old,” I replied. He bumped my shoulder gently, and the switch inside me twitched—annoyingly aware that with him, I felt… safe. I shoved the thought aside.

“I know that look,” he pressed softly. “I feel that look, Aiya.” I sighed. Hiding from Xavier was about as effective as hiding from Liam’s bond. Different reasons. Same futility.

“What would you do,” I asked slowly, waving a hand toward the broken city below, “if tomorrow all of this disappeared? If humanity could live without fear again. Without constant death. If we could rebuild properly.” I turned back to him. “Where would you go?” He blinked, clearly not expecting that. After a moment, he leaned back on his hands, one knee brushing mine—another small, unconscious point of contact.

“Before the fall,” he began, thoughtful, “I didn’t dream big. Joined the army straight out of high school. After discharge, I traveled for work, never for pleasure. No kids. A loveless marriage that ended badly.” He exhaled. “I just… existed. No goals. No direction.” He rarely spoke about the past. None of us did. The world before was a wound we didn’t poke unless we had to. We mourned in shrines, in quiet rituals, in shared silences—not in conversation. “But now,” he continued, voice softer, “knowing what I know… meeting the people I have…” His gaze drifted back to the horizon. “I’d like to show you and Rowan the world. The quiet places. The ones untouched by all this.”

My heartbeat stuttered.

“And then,” he added, almost hesitant, “maybe I’d find somewhere I could build something new. Somewhere I could give you and Rowan the peace you deserve. A life without this weight. Without the burden.” The switch inside me flared hot, dangerously close to flipping. I swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the city below, because if I looked at him—I wasn’t sure I’d keep my walls intact.