When fate and worlds collide

13 | Selfish never changes

Glen scooped the child up with an ease that made my jaw clench, tossing her into the air like the world hadn’t ended. Her delighted squeals cut straight into my chest—painful in a way I didn’t appreciate. Even after everything, they’d been selfish enough to start a family. And judging by the scar that ran down her cheek and her arm, she’d almost paid for it with her life. More than once.

I should’ve left him to die.

Jax watched me from the floor, his daughter leaning into his side. His gaze lingered too long, searching, as if he could read everything I tried to hide. I forced my features into neutrality—no easy task when eyes were an easy betrayal.

“Thank you for getting us back to our family,” he praised quietly.

I glanced down at him. “Don’t mention it. Considering this shithole you dragged me into, I’d rather not be thanked by getting eaten.”

“When do we leave?” he asked too loudly, ignoring my comment. Heads whipped toward me. Perfect. Exactly what I wanted—an audience.

“Are we leaving?”

“Where are we going?”

“Is it Safe Haven?”

“Is it safe?”

Questions ricocheted around me as bodies pressed in closer. My instincts flared—fight, not flight—fingers itching toward the knife at my hip as adrenaline surged. Their hope was suffocating, and hope was dangerous.

“Guys! Hey—back up! Give her some space!” Jax stumbled to his feet, putting himself between me and the swarm. “She probably hasn’t seen a group this size in years.” Internally, I scoffed. If only he knew. Most of them listened, shuffling back with mutters and wary glances. But a few stayed close—those with the brightest, most desperate hope carved into their faces.

“Are you our salvation?” an older woman asked, hands clasped like she expected me to sprout wings. My gaze caught on the rosary beads clutched in her fist. I couldn’t help the sound that slipped out—a short, unimpressed scoff.

“With this dead-end bunker as your hideout? I wouldn’t count on it,” I replied callously, tone slicing clean. A ripple of murmurs swept through the group while Jax shot me a worried look. I exhaled sharply through my nose, irritation flaring hot. This was not the plan. Not even close. And now I had a problem. I was boxed in, surrounded by people I couldn’t help—not without my Alpha here to anchor me. Transporting one or two? Maybe. Thirty desperate civilians clinging to hope like it wasn’t a death sentence?

Not a chance.

Jax finally managed to herd the remaining people back, then approached me again with his daughter glued to his side. Those big blue eyes stared up at me, wide and unblinking. I didn’t look down—couldn’t. Her Aura pulsed so strongly it practically hummed against my skin. Whether Jax had noticed or not… well, that was a problem for Future Me. Preferably a very distant version.

“What now?” he asked. I swallowed the urge to roll my eyes at him. My sympathy had limits—very narrow ones—and I was already past them. I was a full day late returning to the Tower, and I hadn’t even meant to leave in the first place. I was absolutely f****d when I got back.

“In less than an hour,” I began, arms crossing, “the Ferals are going to swarm this building, sniff out your hiding place, and enjoy the little buffet you’ve laid out. Congratulations.”

Jax blinked at me. “What is wrong with you?” I turned my full exasperation on him.

“I’m not the one who thought hiding thirty people in a room with one entrance and exit was genius. I’m not the one who decided to parade a caravan through a city still crawling with Ferals, Nightmares, and every other death-on-legs roaming these streets. I’ve been asking myself the same thing since I saved both your asses,” I placed my hands on my hips, staring him down, “—how the f**k have any of you survived this long while being this stupid?”

“We needed shelter before nightfall,” he argued. “We didn’t have time to scout.”

“Ah, so the issue is laziness. Got it.”

His jaw hardened. “We’re anything but lazy, stranger. We’ve had losses—hard ones.”

“Uh-huh.” I jabbed a finger toward Glen’s wife. “And yet some of your people seem very… well-fed.” A petty jab. Pointless. I didn’t care—I was too irritated to aim properly. Jax frowned, glancing her way before looking back at me with suspicion.

“You’re mean, lady.” his daughter whispered. I looked down. Her Aura flickered—bright and wild for half a heartbeat.

“I’m a survivor, kid,” I snapped, tone sharp enough to cut. “I don’t have time to coddle every person who trips over.” I was done. “I’m leaving before you all get me killed. I have people waiting on my return.” I turned to go, but Jax grabbed my arm. His fingers barely closed before I twisted, knocking his hand away and stepping in close—so close he could feel my breath through the mask.

“Touch me again,” I murmured, voice low and lethal, “and I’ll remove your hand for you in a way you won’t like.” The mask hid my face, but the message landed anyway—Jax paled instantly.

“Please, stranger,” he whispered, fear bleeding into the air. “Don’t leave us to die.” His scent hit me, sharp and desperate, and my nose twitched despite myself. I didn’t owe these people a damn thing. Rowan would tear me apart if I left them to die, knowing I could’ve saved at least a few. Not to mention Alpha Liam’s lectures—the kind that could make a grown woman want to gouge her own eyes out. A few tense seconds passed before I let out a frustrated, defeated sigh.

“Wait here,” I murmured. I pushed the metal door open, leaving it slightly ajar, and made my way upstairs. Once in the lobby, I let my powers stretch, threading my mind outward to the roof. I needed eyes on the street, a feel for how much time I had, and a measure of how brutal the next steps were going to be. I crouched on the edge, scanning the streets below with precision. The Tower glinted in the distance, the sunlight catching its glass like a promise. The thought of leaving flitted across my mind. Alone, I could move faster, freely between rooftops, unencumbered. The sun was still high; I had time. Plenty of time. Yet I let out a low, exasperated huff. I couldn’t walk away—not now.

Threading my power, I scanned the area. A few blocks away, Ferals drifted, noses down, scenting our trail. They’d be on us faster than I liked. I sucked my teeth in annoyance. Even if I did leave now, getting back to the Tower unnoticed would be tricky, maybe impossible. I transported myself back down to the lobby and froze at the sight of Jax’s surprised face. I held still, letting the moment stretch. Humans always reacted differently to us, Auras—sometimes with suspicion, mostly with hostility. Even though we were created after the fall happened, or for some I’d heard the moment the sky split, at no fault of their own.

The fall hadn’t been kind to either side. So many humans died in the first week. Many Auras after, and the real horror began once people discovered what our blood could do. We were hunted, drained, captured… sometimes to the brink of extinction. It was how they created the antidote to the ferals toxin. Four years later, the proof was clear: as a species, humans hadn’t exactly earned survival.

“I thought you’d left,” Jax admitted.

“I considered it,” I murmured. “Needed to scan the area.” Silence stretched between us—tight and uncomfortable. I used it to study him. He stood at least a foot taller than me, still solidly built despite everything. Light brown hair, deep blue eyes, a nose that had definitely been broken once, maybe more. A scar ran from the tip of his eyebrow and vanished beneath the beard framing his face. In another life—one without Ferals and extinction—I might’ve found him attractive.

“You’re an Aura?” he broke the silence. I nodded once. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because being hunted, killed, or enslaved tends to encourage silence.” Deciding he wasn’t an immediate threat, I moved to the front doors and began tracing a symbol. Power rippled through glass and metal as I worked.

“We don’t hold grudges against Auras,” he replied carefully. “We’ve got a few in our group.” Interesting. His daughter was the only one I’d sensed with any power—but I kept that observation to myself. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Buying us time,” I replied. “These wards will slow the Ferals, but they won’t stop them.” I finished the doors and stepped back, inspecting my work. No one really knew where the symbols came from. Once you learned to control your power, the knowledge just… surfaced. I moved through the building, carving wards wherever I could, laying down every advantage available to me.

“This isn’t going to end the way you want it to, Jax,” I warned as I finished the final symbol outside the basement door.

“We have to try.” His words lacked conviction.

I shook my head. “You can’t honestly believe all those children are walking out of here alive.” His eyes flickered with fear. “It’s not possible to save everyone.”

“But you’re an Aura,” he blurted. “You can do things we can’t. Surely that gives us an advantage.” I frowned. Typical expectation of someone who knew nothing about Aura’s. People always assumed power meant miracles.

“There are rules,” I replied sharply. “And consequences. Moving this many people without my Alpha or pack support would kill me—and probably most of you. Worse, it would put my home at risk.” A high-pitched howl cut through the air outside. Both our heads snapped toward the doors. “s**t,” I muttered. The mongrels were fast when they caught a scent.

Jax dragged a hand down his face. “Guess even after the world goes to s**t, there’s still a lot I don’t know, and need to learn.” I glanced at him sideways. He wasn’t like the others—less entitled, more aware. “So, what do we do?” he asked quietly.

“We prepare your people to fight,” I replied. “And to possibly die.”

“How about we leave out the dying part?” he tried weakly. “Humans do better with hope.”

I shrugged. “Whatever keeps them moving.” The building shuddered violently as a deafening boom echoed through the structure, Screams erupted behind us. They were here. We shoved the metal door shut—unlatched, but reinforced enough to slow them. Another impact rocked the walls as the Ferals slammed into the building, desperate and furious. At least my wards were holding. For now.