When fate and worlds collide

30 | Revelations

I turned to Rowan, brushing my hand against his arm to draw his attention. His eyes were still fixed on Glen as he disappeared from view, glassy and swirling with emotions I couldn’t begin to untangle. This wasn’t how I wanted it to unfold.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly, my voice steady even as my heart hammered.

Tears streaked down his cheeks. “I should be asking you, Mum,” he whispered, voice tight. My chest clenched. My worst fear—the exposure of that side of me, the fear and pain I had tried so hard to hide—had reached him. I should have protected him better.

“I’m okay, Row. The past stays in the past,” I murmured, forcing a small, reassuring smile. I turned back to Liam. His eyes were dark, simmering with unspoken anger. I felt the familiar wave of his rage brushing through the pack link, his eyes flicking to yellow, a silent storm of power waiting to be unleashed. My jaw tightened. Tonight had been a reminder: I would protect my son at any cost, and no one would compromise that. “If you can’t control your emotions, Liam, I suggest you go somewhere there won’t be casualties,” I prompted, voice sharp but controlled. His shoulders stiffened at my words, then slowly eased when I said his name.

“I’m sorry, Aiya…that man…” His voice trailed off, heavy with tension.

“Won’t be an issue from now on. Rowan made his choice. Glen might take time to register it, but until then, keep a watch at his door. Make sure nothing escalates.” I kept my tone firm, leaving no room for argument. Liam ran a hand down his face, the internal struggle evident—what he wanted to do, what I was asking him to do. A few tense moments passed before he nodded, posture rigid once more, and left with Braydon at his side.

I let out a breath, hand gently squeezing Rowan’s. His Aura swirled alongside mine, a storm of heightened anxiety.

“Are you sure, Row? He’s your dad. You know I love you no matter what choice you make,” I reassured, voice soft.

Rowan’s nod was small but steady. “That man’s not my father. He never was. When he did those things…” He drew a shaky breath, returning my hand’s squeeze with his own. “He might be my biological father, but Xavier…he’s more my dad than anyone else. At least he’s been there for me, no matter what, Protecting us. Even though I’m not really his kid.” My chest tightened at his words. Seeing the impact Xavier had had on Rowan’s life—just by being present—hit me harder than I expected.

A soft shuffle outside the door made us both look up. Xavier’s figure filled the doorway, and immediately Rowan relaxed, shoulders easing, his tension melting slightly. I, too, felt my emotions settle at the sight of him. Had he overheard what Rowan said? I studied his expression carefully, curious how long he’d been standing there. But Xavier’s focus was entirely on Rowan—embracing him, checking if he was okay. His demeanor didn’t falter, calm and steady. Would knowing he meant so much to my son change our dynamic?

Xavier’s eyes flicked toward me, a trace of that strange emotion lingering. My heart thumped against my ribs in reaction. I watched as the two made their way back to the lounge, talking quietly, comfortably.

I quietly closed the door behind me and followed them. Even if he did know…who we were as a family wouldn’t change, right?

~*~

Thick, bruised clouds rolled in from the south, dragging with them the promise of a violent storm. Cold winds tore through the courtyard outside, snapping blankets and tarps, sending everyone scrambling indoors. I claimed a quiet corner near the wall in the training hall, watching as Rowan sparred with Amelia, their movements fast and instinctive, laughter slipping through their concentration.

Xavier lingered near a window, arms crossed, glancing in my direction more often than necessary. His expression sat somewhere between concern and something far less comfortable to name. I pretended not to notice. The morning had been spent with the younger Auras, guiding them through the delicate art of tapping into their power without letting it burn them alive from the inside out, and threading it carefully into what they wanted from it. I went through the motions, corrected stances, adjusted breathing—but my mind kept drifting. No matter how hard I tried to anchor myself, it circled back to Jax’s daughter.

Clarice.

What would her power look like when it surfaced? Would it behave like the others—or twist into something volatile, unpredictable?

And then came the question I’d been carefully avoiding.

Could I kill her if she became a threat?

The thought tasted like ash. She was just a child. None of this was her fault—the violent, blood-hungry nature threaded into her origin, inherited not chosen. And yet…if it came down to her life or the Tower’s survival, I already knew the answer. That truth didn’t make it easier to swallow.

A sudden shift in the air made my head snap up. Power rolled through the room—controlled, dominant, unmistakable. Liam had entered.

His posture was rigid with authority, presence commanding attention whether he wanted it or not. His gaze swept the space, searching and I instinctively shrank back, willing myself to blend into the stone and shadows. But the other part of me—the traitorous, lust-ridden part—nearly stood and walked straight into his arms. His nostrils flared. His head turning in my direction, eyes locking with mine. I exhaled slowly. So much for hiding. In a room this small, peace didn’t last long.

Working together, I reminded myself as I pushed up from my seat, stretching muscles still sore from the brutal workout Xavier had subjected me to earlier. Liam approached, a faint grin tugging at his mouth like he already knew he’d won some silent argument.

“And what has you so cheerful?” I asked once he was close enough, arching a brow. I signaled Rowan to keep going when I noticed him pause, his attention snapping sharply to Liam. The glare he sent told me he’d been seconds away from intervening.

“Can I not be happy to see you?” Liam replied, stopping a few feet away. His scent hit me hard—heat, pine, and something darker. My body reacted before my brain caught up, memories from the other night resurfacing. I dug my nails into my palms and folded my arms across my chest, locking everything down.

“Usually it means you want something,” I shot back.

He sighed. “I thought we were past this.”

“I’m not surrendering my sarcasm or sharp edges just because we reached an arrangement,” I replied coolly. “That, you will have to learn to live with.” My nerves had been frayed all morning, my patience thinner than usual, and I had no desire to indulge his moods today. For a heartbeat, his eyes darkened.

“You’re coming to the meeting this afternoon,” he clarified—not a question. His council summons had rippled through the pack link earlier, wide and unavoidable. Subtle, but calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing—cutting off any chance I had of pretending ignorance and slipping away. I clicked my tongue softly.

“It was part of the slave trade,” I muttered. Liam frowned, clearly not appreciating the commentary. I sighed. “Sorry. Habit. I’ll be there—punctual, cooperative, and pretending to be impressed,” I added dryly. sarcasm dripping.

“Are you going to behave?” he asked. The question caught me off guard.

“I’m a pain in the ass, not a child, Liam,” I replied coolly. “I know council meetings matter. They’re necessary. They’re just… painfully boring.” He gave me a look that suggested he’d heard every variation of that excuse before and turned to leave. “Liam,” I called.

He stopped and turned back. For half a second, something hopeful flickered across his face. My chest tightened in response—guilt, sharp and unwelcome. I crushed it just as quickly.

“Jax’s daughter…She’s an Aura.” I explained.

Both his eyebrows lifted. “And? You don’t usually ask to train new Aura’s. We need every Aura we can get,” he replied evenly.

My stomach twisted. “Her origin is… complicated. And a little…questionable. Her mother was infected while she was pregnant.” I watched the information settle. Lessor Auras were born from infection or lineage—first-gen bloodlines were still poorly understood, and unsure on how they would continue. The unknown always made people nervous.

“Can you sense her power?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Is she strong?”

Another nod.

“How strong?” There were a dozen questions buried in that one. Strategy. Risk. Control. He would be weighing up the potential possibilities from my answer. I’d already withheld part of the truth—if I lied now, he’d know.

“Almost as powerful as me.” Silence.

“Can you handle her?” he asked finally. A short, humorless laugh escaped me before I could stop it. I swallowed, then nodded again. He scanned the room quickly, then gave a brief nod in return. Decision made. By allowing him this curtesy it meant Alpha satisfied. He turned and left without another word. That was exactly what he wanted—authority acknowledged. When the door shut behind him, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Xavier appeared at my side, concern etched into his face.

“He does like to make an entrance.”

I snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Jax has been asking for you again,” he added, changing the subject.

I sighed. “That man is relentless.”

“At least he’s consistent, and determined,” Xavier responded mildly. “And he fits in well here.” I looked up a the man, his gaze now on Rowan and Amelia, still sparring with fierce concentration.

“I suspected he’d be an asset. I just didn’t realize persistence was his defining trait.” I paused. “Makes me almost regret saving his life.”

Xavier glanced at me. “Almost?”

“There’s only one person I regret saving,” I murmured. He squeezed my arm gently, then nodded toward the exit.

“He’s outside when you’re ready.” I watched him walk away to join the kids, my heart beating just a little too hard. My power stirred uneasily beneath my skin.

Jax was waiting. And I’d avoided him long enough. I squared my shoulders and headed outside to give him his answer.