Alpha Xander's Undoing Chasing my Unknown Mate Back novel Chapter 114

Chapter 114

Rory

Chapter 114

Rory

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The fire had thinned to embers, glowing soft and low, like the world was whispering instead of breathing.

Outside, the wind howled through the trees, pushing against the cabin walls as if testing the strength of the night. Inside, it was quiet. The kind of quiet that felt alive.

Xander’s arm rested around me, his thumb tracing idle circles over my skin, slow and grounding. Every pass of his touch sent small ripples of heat through me. His body was warm- steady in a way I wasn’t. I didn’t realize how close I’d curled into him until he shifted, brushing his nose against the side of my temple.

“You’re still shaking,” he murmured, voice low and rough from disuse.

“I’m not cold,” I whispered.

I wasn’t. I was every other thing – tired, frayed, full of want I didn’t know how to name. It wasn’t about comfort anymore. It was about needing to feel something that wasn’t loss.

When I looked up, his eyes caught mine in the dim light. There was something in them – love, yes, but also hunger, and the ache of too many nights spent trying to be strong when he was anything but.

“Rory…” His voice wrapped around my name like it meant something sacred. His hand slid from my arm to my jaw, rough fingers tilting my chin up until there was nowhere to look but at him.

The distance between us disappeared before I could think. His lips brushed mine – tentative, searching – as if asking permission. I gave it the only way I could, by leaning in and breathing him in. The kiss started soft, like the memory of warmth, but deepened quickly, drawing the air right out of my lungs.

He tasted like smoke and the kind of promise I had stopped believing in.

My fingers found his shirt, clutching it in a half–fist, not to pull him closer but to keep from falling apart. He kissed me deeper, slower, as though trying to rewrite the silence between us. The world outside could have burned and I wouldn’t have noticed.

When his hand slid to the small of my back, my breath hitched. The heat of his palm bled through the thin fabric of my shirt. Every move was deliberate – not rushed, not greedy. He touched me like I might break, and it only made me want him more.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed against my mouth.

“Don’t,” I said.

That was all it took. The rest unfolded like it had always been waiting for this moment.

His lips trailed lower, brushing the hollow of my throat, the edge of my shoulder. The warmth of his breath made me shiver. My hands moved without thought – over his chest, his neck, the sharp line of his jaw- learning him again through touch. The scar near his collarbone caught against my fingertip, and something about that tiny imperfection undid me.

12:16 Wed, Oct 15

Chapter 114

Chapter 114

Rory

7

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The fire had thinned to embers, glowing soft and low, like the world was whispering instead of breathing.

Outside, the wind howled through the trees, pushing against the cabin walls as if testing the strength of the night. Inside, it was quiet. The kind of quiet that felt alive.

Xander’s arm rested around me, his thumb tracing idle circles over my skin, slow and grounding. Every pass of his touch sent small ripples of heat through me. His body was warm – steady in a way I wasn’t. I didn’t realize how close I’d curled into him until he shifted, brushing his nose against the side of my temple.

“You’re still shaking,” he murmured, voice low and rough from disuse.

“I’m not cold,” I whispered.

I wasn’t. I was every other thing – tired, frayed, full of want I didn’t know how to name. It wasn’t about comfort anymore. It was about needing to feel something that wasn’t loss.

When I looked up, his eyes caught mine in the dim light. There was something in them — love, yes, but also hunger, and the ache of too many nights spent trying to be strong when he was anything but.

“Rory…” His voice wrapped around my name like it meant something sacred. His hand slid from my arm to my jaw, rough fingers tilting my chin up until there was nowhere to look but at him.

—

The distance between us disappeared before I could think. His lips brushed mine — tentative, searching if asking permission. I gave it the only way I could, by leaning in and breathing him in. The kiss started soft, like the memory of warmth, but deepened quickly, drawing the air right out of my lungs.

He tasted like smoke and the kind of promise I had stopped believing in.

My fingers found his shirt, clutching it in a half–fist, not to pull him closer but to keep from falling apart. He kissed me deeper, slower, as though trying to rewrite the silence between us. The world outside could have burned and I wouldn’t have noticed.

When his hand slid to the small of my back, my breath hitched. The heat of his palm bled through the thin fabric of my shirt. Every move was deliberate – not rushed, not greedy. He touched me like I might break, and it only made me want him more.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed against my mouth.

“Don’t,” I said.

That was all it took. The rest unfolded like it had always been waiting for this moment.

His lips trailed lower, brushing the hollow of my throat, the edge of my shoulder. The warmth of his breath made me shiver. My hands moved without thought – over his chest, his neck, the sharp line of his jaw- learning him again through touch. The scar near his collarbone caught against my fingertip, and something about that tiny imperfection undid me.

as

12:16 Wed, Oct 15

Chapter 114

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He caught my wrist gently, pressing a kiss into the inside of it where my pulse fluttered. “You’re shaking again,” he murmured.

“Still not cold.”

1

The words made him smile against my skin, a soft curve that melted into another kiss. The air between us turned heavier, full of heat and quiet sounds breaths, sighs, the faint crackle of the fire. It wasn’t the frantic kind of wanting that burned everything down; it was deeper, slower, the kind that rebuilt what had already

been burned,

When his forehead touched mine, his voice came out rougher. “You’re here,” he whispered, like he had to say it to believe it.

“I’m here,” I said back, though my throat tightened with how much those words meant.

We moved together in a rhythm that felt older than the pain that had broken us. It was gentle, tender, full of pauses that said more than words ever could. Every touch was a question; every breath, an answer.

At some point, the chains of exhaustion slipped off, leaving only the warmth of skin against skin, the slow beat of two hearts syncing after too long apart. When it was over, there was no grand collapse, no trembling confession – just silence, soft and complete.

Xander’s fingers drew lazy patterns along my spine as I lay against him. My cheek rested over his heartbeat, slow and solid under my palm.

“Do you feel that?” he asked quietly.

“What?”

“The calm,” he said. “It’s been so long since the world felt still.”

I smiled, a small, tired thing. “Maybe it’s just pretending for us.”

“Let it,” he said. “We’ve earned at least that.”

His hand found mine, weaving our fingers together until they fit the way they used to. I felt the flicker then – faint, delicate, like the brush of a flame over my skin. Zerina. It wasn’t power, not yet. It was presence.

I gasped softly. “Did you feel—”

–

He nodded before I finished. “Yeah,” he murmured, eyes flicking open to meet mine. “She’s still in there, love. You both are.”

Tears stung my eyes, unexpected and uninvited. “I thought she was gone forever.”

“She’s too stubborn for that,” he said, smiling against my hair. “Just like you.”

I let out a shaky laugh, my chest catching as relief and love tangled in one long exhale. He pressed a kiss to my temple, then to my lips again – slower this time, reverent.

“I love you,” he whispered into my mouth.

12:16 Wed, Oct 15

Chapter 114

“I know.” My voice broke. “I love you too.”

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He pulled me closer, his chin resting against my hair. The fire burned low, shadows swaying across the walls in slow, easy rhythm. For the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself believe in something good – in warmth that didn’t vanish, in touch that didn’t hurt.

Outside, the storm kept raging. But here, wrapped in his arms, I felt the echo of something I thought I’d lost -the bond, faint and flickering, like a spark under the ash.

And this time, I didn’t reach for it. I just let it burn.

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The fire had thinned to embers, glowing soft and low, like the world was whispering instead of breathing.

Outside, the wind howled through the trees, pushing against the cabin walls as if testing the strength of the night. Inside, it was quiet. The kind of quiet that felt alive.

75

Xander’s arm rested around me, his thumb tracing idle circles over my skin, slow and grounding. Every pass of his touch sent small ripples of heat through me. His body was warm steady in a way I wasn’t. I didn’t realize how close I’d curled into him until he shifted, brushing his nose against the side of my temple.

“You’re still shaking,” he murmured, voice low and rough from disuse.

“I’m not cold,” I whispered.

–

–

I wasn’t. I was every other thing — tired, frayed, full of want I didn’t know how to name. It wasn’t about comfort anymore. It was about needing to feel something that wasn’t loss.

When I looked up, his eyes caught mine in the dim light. There was something in them – love, yes, but also hunger, and the ache of too many nights spent trying to be strong when he was anything but.

“Rory…” His voice wrapped around my name like it meant something sacred. His hand slid from my arm to my jaw, rough fingers tilting my chin up until there was nowhere to look but at him.

The distance between us disappeared before I could think. His lips brushed mine – tentative, searching if asking permission. I gave it the only way I could, by leaning in and breathing him in. The kiss started soft, like the memory of warmth, but deepened quickly, drawing the air right out of my lungs.

He tasted like smoke and the kind of promise I had stopped believing in.

My fingers found his shirt, clutching it in a half–fist, not to pull him closer but to keep from falling apart. He kissed me deeper, slower, as though trying to rewrite the silence between us. The world outside could have burned and I wouldn’t have noticed.

When his hand slid to the small of my back, my breath hitched. The heat of his palm bled through the thin fabric of my shirt. Every move was deliberate – not rushed, not greedy. He touched me like I might break, and it only made me want him more.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed against my mouth.

“Don’t,” I said.

That was all it took. The rest unfolded like it had always been waiting for this moment.

—

His lips trailed lower, brushing the hollow of my throat, the edge of my shoulder. The warmth of his breath made me shiver. My hands moved without thought over his chest, his neck, the sharp line of his jaw learning him again through touch. The scar near his collarbone caught against my fingertip, and something about that tiny imperfection undid me.

as

12:16 Wed, Oct 15

Chapter 113

Her lashes fluttered, eyes wet with something she tried to hide. “How would you know?”

“Because I was there when you became her,” I said simply. “And she’s still right here.”

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She tried to look away, but I caught her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. The fire reflected in them, twin shards of light flickering over green. “You’re my wife, Rory,” I said quietly. “Bond or not, you’re still mine, and I’m yours.”

Her breath caught, shaky and unsure. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It isn’t. Nothing worth keeping ever is.”

She gave a soft, trembling laugh that broke somewhere near the end. “You always say the right thing, you know that?”

“I’ve had practice.”

She tilted her head. “Practice?”

“Talking to stubborn women who don’t realize how much I love them.”

Her eyes widened a little, then softened. “You love me.”

I smiled faintly. “That wasn’t a question.”

She shook her head, biting her lip. “You make it sound like something I don’t deserve.”

“Maybe you don’t,” I said, voice low. “But I don’t deserve you either, and that never stopped us before.”

The silence that followed was the kind that didn’t need to be filled. The firelight flickered across her face, and for a long time, we just sat there, breathing in sync, listening to the storm crawl closer.

Outside, the wind howled through the shutters. She shivered, and without thinking, I shifted closer. Her body leaned into mine like it was muscle memory. My arm came around her shoulders, and she melted against my chest with a quiet sigh.

“Warm enough?” I murmured.

“Almost.”

I pulled her tighter. “Better?”

She tilted her head, looking up at me. “Getting there.”

Her voice was so soft it barely reached over the crackle of the fire, but it hit harder than anything else. I could feel her heartbeat against mine, faint and uneven, and I realized how long it had been since I’d heard it this

close.

She shifted slightly, hand sliding over my chest, fingers tracing the pattern of my scars. “These still bother you?”

12:16 Wed, Oct 15

Chapter 113

“Only when you stop touching them.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, slow and steady. “Smooth.”

“I try,”

Her smile deepened, small but real, and before I could say anything else, she leaned in and kissed me.

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It wasn’t frantic, not like before when every kiss had felt like proof we were still alive. This one was slow, aching, tender. Her lips moved against mine like a question she was afraid to ask, and I answered it the only way I knew how–by pulling her closer, by kissing her until the world outside didn’t matter.

When we broke apart, her forehead rested against mine, her breath warm and uneven.

“I missed this,” she whispered.

“Which part?”

“All of it. The quiet. The way you hold me like you still believe I’m whole.”

I cupped her face, my thumb brushing away the tear she didn’t mean to let fall. “You are whole, Rory. You just don’t see it yet.”

She exhaled shakily, her fingers curling into my shirt. “I want to believe that.”

“Then let me believe it for both of us,” I said.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and for a heartbeat, everything stilled–the wind, the fire, the ache that had lived in both of us since the Solstice.

And then it happened.

The air shifted, warm against her skin. The fire flared higher, brighter, like something unseen had taken a breath. Rory gasped, hand flying to her chest.

“Xander,” she whispered. “Did you feel that?”

I nodded, pulse hammering. “Zerina.”

The faintest warmth lingered against her palm, fading as quickly as it came. But it was there. Not a memory. Not hope. A spark.

Her eyes met mine, wide and trembling. “She’s still with me.”

“She always was,” I said softly. “You just needed to remember how to listen.”

She leaned in again, pressing her forehead to mine. Her breath brushed my lips when she spoke. “What if it fades again?”

“Then we wait,” I said. “And we fight. And we start over as many times as it takes.”

12:16 Wed, Oct 15

Chapter 113

Her hand slipped into mine, fingers intertwining. “Promise?”

I smiled faintly. “Always.”

Joster

The storm outside hit full force, rattling the windows, shaking the old wood of the Academy, but inside, the fire held steady. The warmth pressed close around us as the snow fell harder, sealing the world quiet.

She rested her head against my shoulder, her breath slowing, her fingers still tangled with mine.

Azrien stirred in the back of my mind, his voice quieter than usual. ‘She burns brighter tonight?’

‘Yeah, I thought. ‘So do we.‘

The flames danced long into the night, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the silence between us didn’t ache. It glowed.

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