Alpha Xander's Undoing Chasing my Unknown Mate Back novel Chapter 118

Chapter 118

Chapter 118

Rory

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The courtyard was silver with frost when I stepped outside. My breath clouded the air, and for a moment, I just stood there, letting the cold sting my face. After everything–the ritual, the sleepless nights, the whispers about the Venatorum–1 didn’t realize how much I missed silence that wasn’t soaked in fear.

It wasn’t perfect. The Academy still carried its scars. Some walls gleamed new and pale where they’d been rebuilt, while others were patched with mismatched stone. The scent of ash lingered in the cracks, a ghost that refused to leave. But there were sounds again. Laughter. Footsteps. Life.

Across the yard, Dhara’s voice broke through the morning quiet. “You’re holding back again!”

I turned toward the training field just in time to see a bolt of lightning snap from her hand and sizzle across the dirt, missing her opponent by inches. The man she was sparring with–Castor, the new rogue Vallin had brought in a week ago–grinned, unruffled.

He was a Sky wolf, and he made sure everyone knew it. Quick as wind, unpredictable, and just smug enough to get under Dhara’s skin. His eyes glinted like stormlight, his dark hair half–tied, falling into his face when he ducked beneath another of her strikes.

They moved like opposites that didn’t know they were meant to meet halfway. Lightning and air. Power and

control.

Dhara lunged again, sparks cracking down her arms. Castor caught her wrist mid–strike and twisted, spinning her momentum into his own. She hit the ground hard enough to send up a puff of frost, then rolled and kicked his legs out before he could gloat.

I couldn’t help it–I laughed.

They both froze, startled, then turned toward me. Dhara’s cheeks flushed red as she scrambled up, brushing off her training jacket. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said, still smiling. “But apparently neither could you.”

Castor straightened, the wind around him shifting faintly as if it listened to him. “You don’t waste mornings when you’re trying to keep up with this one.”

Dhara threw him a glare that carried little heat. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said easily, brushing frost from his sleeve. His grin lingered though, the kind that looked like it had its own agenda.

I folded my arms, watching them. “For what it’s worth, it’s nice seeing someone finally land a hit on her. I was starting to think she was invincible.”

Dhara smirked faintly. “Don’t encourage him.”

“Encouragement? I’d call that honest observation,” Castor said, stepping back into the sparring ring. “You could join us, Rory. I’ll even go easy.”

13:03 Sun, Oct 19

Chapter 118

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“Not a chance,” I said, though part of me was tempted. My body hadn’t seen a proper fight since the dungeon, and I wasn’t sure I trusted it to remember how. “Besides, someone’s got to keep an eye out for lightning

casualties”

He laughed, and even Dhara’s mouth twitched. It felt… normal. Almost painfully so.

They resumed sparring, and I stayed at the edge of the ring, letting the rhythm of it pull me in. Dhara moved with sharp precision, every strike clean and deliberate. Castor countered with flow instead of force, turning her angles into arcs, meeting her lightning with the whirling rush of air. Sparks hissed, wind cracked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it didn’t sound like war.

It sounded like healing.

When they finally broke apart, breathless, I tossed Dhara her water flask. “You’re improving,” I said.

She grinned at me, though her chest still heaved. “He’s fast. Not good, just fast.”

“Fast is good,” Castor said, wiping his brow. “Fast keeps you alive.”

“Arrogance gets you killed,” she shot back, but her tone was softer than before.

He just smiled, that quiet, infuriating confidence slipping into something gentler. “Maybe. But you need a little arrogance to face what’s coming.”

Dhara’s grin faltered. The air around us shifted–the playful edge replaced by something heavier.

Castor must have noticed because he stepped back, giving her space. “Sorry,” he said, tone careful. “Didn’t

mean to-”

“No,” she cut in, shaking her head. “You’re right.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. Just full. Dhara sat down on the frost–lined bench, staring at her hands like the static under her skin needed somewhere to go.

I joined her, leaving enough space between us that she could choose to fill it if she wanted. “You okay?”

She hesitated before answering. “You ever tell yourself you’re fine so often that you almost believe it?”

“Every day,” I said quietly,

She huffed a laugh but didn’t look up. “My family used to live near the southern border. Small pack. Mostly farmers. They didn’t believe in all this elemental nonsense–thought we were too small to matter to anyone.

Until the Venatorum came.”

Her voice didn’t waver, but the way her fingers twisted in her lap told me enough.

“They called it a cleansing,” she said. “Anyone they couldn’t recruit, they burned. My mother hid me under the floorboards. When it was over…” Her throat worked once. “When it was over, there wasn’t anything left to go back to.”

I didn’t know what to say. The words felt too fragile to reach across something like that.

13:04 Sun, Oct 19

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20

Chapter 118

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Castor crouched in front of her, the wind quieting around him. For once, his smirk was gone. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Dhara gave a small nod, her eyes wet but steady. “I’ve spent years pretending I was over it. That anger kept me sharp. But lately…” She exhaled. “Lately, I don’t want to fight because of grief anymore. I want to fight for something else.”

Castor studied her for a moment. His voice was low when he spoke. “Then when they come again, they’ll meet your storm before your grief.”

Her eyes lifted, and for the first time since the Solstice, Dhara smiled like she meant it.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked away, giving them a moment. The frost glittered along the grass, the wind carrying faint laughter from the east wing where students trained. Somewhere, someone played music too softly to make out.

It wasn’t peace exactly. But it was close.

I leaned back on the bench, feeling the cold bite through my coat. For the first time since the Academy reopened, I let myself think maybe–just maybe–we’d done it. Maybe the world had stopped spinning long enough for us to breathe.

But beneath that fragile calm, something trembled. The kind of quiet that wasn’t safety, only the pause before

a storm.

Zerina’s faint hum brushed against my mind–weak, almost gone, but there.

Balance trembles before it breaks.

I closed my eyes, exhaling through the cold.

It was beautiful, this morning. Too beautiful to trust.

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