When fate and worlds collide

16 | Home Bound

“But… you’re a First Gen Aura, aren’t you?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“Of course a downcast-bred like you wouldn’t understand,” I spat. I grunted as another wave of agony hit. This explained why I only felt Jax’s daughter, Clarice, the others were lesser Aura’s. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Please, friend,” Jax pleaded quietly. “Put the gun away.”

“Do you want to take the pain instead?” I sneered. He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion etched into every line. I recognized it instantly.

“Help me understand,” he replied calmly. “So I can help you.” I studied him, weighing my options as pain shuddered through me again. I didn’t have the strength to gun them both down, let alone the whole group—not without losing control entirely.

And worse…Something about him steadied me. Centered me. I’d learned long ago to trust my instincts. Even when I hated where they led. I lowered the gun, never taking my eyes off the girl. Another wave of pain rolled through me and I clenched my teeth, breathing sharply before speaking—slow and careful, like explaining how fire burns to a toddler.

“You cannot share or transfer power if you have an Alpha. Power only moves within the pack you’re bound to.” I shot her a hard look. “Foreign power—especially downcast blood—can kill us when we’re extremely weakened.” I paused, letting the words sink in. “A state I was already in, thanks to saving you and your group more times than I care to count.” I added sourly.

Jax frowned. “What do you mean by…downcast?”

I tipped my head toward the girl. “Someone born from a lesser Aura. Or bitten by…” I grimaced, biting back a cry as pain flared. “You know.” I inhaled sharply. “Judging by her age, she wasn’t born one.”

Jax glanced at the girl, then back to me. “Those creatures gave you powers?”

A dry laugh escaped me. “Where do you think all our powers came from, Jax? First Gen Auras were only created at the time of the Fall. Lesser Auras? Their power eventually turns them back into the original state it manifested from.” Understanding dawned on his face. Murmurs rippled through the group. “The fact she hasn’t turned yet is surprising,” I continued, “unless she was bitten recently.” The girl’s eyes flicked straight to Jax.

Thought so.

“So why aren’t there more Auras?” he asked. “I’ve met people bitten by beasts who never gained powers.” I sighed. Why was I giving a lecture?

“Look, from what little we know only a handle gain powers through bite. Even fewer survive it. Most just turn into those things.” I paused, memories surfacing—ones I’d rather not revisit. “And trust me,” I added quietly, “you’d know if you met one.” My body shook again. I locked my jaw until the pain passed.

“How do we stop this?” Jax asked.

“Normally?” I panted. “She’d be given the choice to join my pack. Then the power wouldn’t be foreign anymore.” His eyebrows shot up. I resisted the urge to hit him. “Alpha Liam would have to accept her,” I went on. “And I don’t have the strength to burn it out myself. She needs to take it back.” Jax turned to the girl and motioned her forward. Her eyes flicked nervously to the gun still in my hand. She reached out and yelped as my hand snapped forward, gripping her forearm with inhuman speed. My eyes flared bright purple as the beast stirred. I dragged her closer, a low growl vibrating through my chest. Thank the gods for the mask—at least she didn’t have to see my canines lengthen.

“This is going to hurt,” I hissed. I forced the foreign power out of my body and back into hers. Her scream tore through the tunnel as the energy—now tainted with mine—ripped through her system.

I wasn’t dying for this group. Even if Jax’s personality was starting to grow on me.

My gaze slid past the girl as her scream faded into something distant and warped, like sound underwater. Soon there was nothing left but my own breathing—slow, measured, deliberate. The beast inside me writhed, furious at being denied, craving the way Glen’s fear would crack and bloom across his face if I let it loose. I curled my free hand into a fist and drove my nails into my palm. Pain flared—clean, grounding. Useful. Killing him now would accomplish nothing. And worse, it would feel too good.

When the last of the girl’s power was finally torn from my body, I released her. She crumpled to the tunnel floor, limbs folding beneath her as if they’d forgotten their purpose. Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. A dark burn marked the place where I’d gripped her, half-moon welts of blood dotting her forearm where my nails had broken skin. Two people rushed to her side, frantic fingers checking her pulse. One of them shot me a look—pure revulsion, like I’d just proven every ugly thing he’d already decided about me. I met his stare without flinching. My eyes dulled back to their usual colour, the glow bleeding away as the beast retreated, sulking. I didn’t care what they thought. I wasn’t here to comfort them, and I certainly wasn’t here to be liked.

The pain ebbed quickly, but the aftermath clung to me—lead in my limbs, exhaustion sinking deep into my bones. I felt wrung out, hollowed, running on nothing but momentum and spite. I turned to Jax.

“Get them moving,” I ordered quietly. I pivoted and walked away, boots barely whispering against the tunnel floor. Behind me, Jax began issuing orders, his voice low and urgent. I heard him assign two people to carry the girl. A moment later, the slow, uneven shuffle of feet followed after me, echoing down the tunnel.

I didn’t look back. Forward was the only direction that mattered now.

~*~

A few hours bled by, my body grudgingly stitching itself back together after everything I’d forced it through over the past two days. We emerged from the tunnel at the river’s edge with the sun already sinking lower than I liked. Too many detours. Too many bad decisions. Time I couldn’t afford to lose.

No Ferals were in sight, but their howls drifted on the wind, distant and searching for a trace of our scent. Despite Jax’s attempts at conversation, I didn’t speak again. I used the silence to rebuild what I could—pulling my power back into something stable, something usable. One more mistake, one more fight in my current state, and I’d be dead. I wasn’t gambling with that, not this close to home.

If we were attacked now, I would leave them behind.

I suspected Jax understood. He didn’t push. There was a steadiness to him—an ability to stay calm without going dull—that I hadn’t seen in a long time. It was almost…refreshing. He reminded me of someone I’d trusted before the fall, back when that sort of thing hadn’t been suicidal. He’d do well in the Tower. Leadership came naturally to him, the kind you didn’t have to shout to be heard.

The Tower finally rose into view, broken storefronts and abandoned shops lining the street like picked-clean bones either side of us. The massive structure stretched toward the sky, a beacon in a dead city. The walls encircling it vanished in both directions, solid and imposing—exactly as the stories claimed. My stomach tightened as I scanned the road ahead. The closer we got, the heavier the air felt. Soon, there would be questions. About me. About who I was.

Part of me still wished I’d left those two men to die.

I signaled Jax to sweep the alley on the right. This area was heavily patrolled, but complacency got people killed fast. He gave the all clear, and the group moved forward, their eyes glued to my back like I was the only thing keeping the world from swallowing them whole. A petty, vicious part of me felt a flicker of satisfaction at the thought of the scolding Glen’s woman was about to receive—for choosing herself over her child, and over the others. Survival didn’t excuse everything.

A faint whistle cut through the street.

I raised a fist, stopping the group cold, and scanned the buildings. A pair of eyes stared back from behind a windowsill in nearby tall building, a sniper trained squarely on my head. I nodded once, recognizing him—the same guard from when I left two days ago. His sharp hand signal told me we were clear to pass through. As we neared the wall, my power wrapped around me like a breath of clean air after too long in a sealed room. I looked up at the Tower, the faint shimmer around it visible only to Auras—a protective veil humming with familiar strength.

A deep, grinding sound rolled toward us. Something heavy being shifted. Then the wall split open, groaning as the gate pushed open. Relief rippled through the group behind me. Some people cried. Others sagged like the fight had finally drained out of them. I glanced at Jax. His eyes were wide, fixed on the opening, searching desperately for a glimpse of his daughter. I reached out and touched his arm. He startled, then looked down at me.

“Soon, Jax. She’s safe.” I reassured, breaking my silence at last. He smiled—weak and exhausted, but real.

“Will I finally get to thank the person behind the mask properly once we’re inside?” he asked. Then, quieter, glancing back at Glen, “I can tell you know him. Whatever happened between you… it’s a past filled with pain. But, people can change.” I blinked, caught off guard by how much he’d seen without ever seeing my face.

“Some people…don’t,” I replied flatly. “No matter what they survive.” I looked away, then added, “You’ll know who I am soon enough.” I started forward, then paused and glanced back at him. “I like you, Jax. I don’t like many people. You’ve got your head screwed on in this f****d-up world.” A beat. “I’m glad you didn’t die.” I turned and walked through the gates. Familiar faces turned toward me, relief blooming when they recognized my stride, my presence. Inside the walls, the large space buzzed with life—soldiers moving with purpose, civilians gathering supplies. I heard the ring of a blacksmith’s hammer to my left. The scent of fresh bake food drifted through the crowd to my nose. Incredible, warm and rich, like hope pretending to be food. The chatter softened as the size of the incoming group through the gates became clear. I scanned the crowd, the relief on their faces grounding me in a way nothing else could.

This was my family.

I was home.

We stopped in the centre of the courtyard near several large storage crates. People gathered, eyes searching every new face, hoping—always hoping—to find someone they’d lost. The newcomers began to murmur, fear creeping back in now that the adrenaline had nowhere left to go. I wrinkled my nose. Jax stepped up beside me, studying the crowd.

“So,” he started. I looked up at him. “What now?”