Alpha Xander's Undoing Chasing my Unknown Mate Back novel Chapter 123

Chapter 123

Xander

The forest had gone quiet again. Too quiet.

didn’t trust silence anymore–it never meant safety, only aftermath.

floated low through the morning fog, settling over the underbrush like a pale shroud. The first Venatorum camp we nd was burned beyond recognition. The second still smoked. The third looked like someone had set it ablaze from the

hree in one week,” Mati muttered, kicking at a half–buried helmet. “Either they’re sloppy, or someone’s doing their work

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Durnham, Isaac said from behind him. He crouched near the blackened ground, dragging his fingers through the soot. His expression darkened when he found the faint trace of sigils burned into the dirt. “These aren’t random fires. They’re targeted. He’s hunting them.”

I studied the markings with him. The pattern was familiar–the same symbol etched into the Venatorum weapons we’d seen before. Only this time, the lines weren’t carved by a blade but scorched deep as if fire itself had signed their deaths.

“He’s making a point,” I said.

Isaac’s jaw tightened. “They betrayed him. He’s returning the favor.”

Matt crossed his arms. “Great. So the psychopath’s killing other psychopaths. Should we be celebrating or panicking?”

“Both,” I said, because it was true.

The air felt heavier the farther we went. The trees whispered, their branches bending under unseen weight. Even Azrien was restless, pacing hard against the inside of my chest.

‘The fire’s wrong,‘ he growled, his voice low and uncertain. ‘It doesn’t smell like war. It smells like warning?

I didn’t answer him out loud, but my pulse beat in agreement.

Isaac stood, dusting his hands. “If Durnham’s turning against them, he’s either desperate or delusional. The Venatorum doesn’t lose control of its monsters easily.”

Matt huffed. “Neither does he.”

The words hung in the air. No one contradicted them.

We continued our sweep, boots crunching through brittle ash. The smell of smoke clung to us, the kind that didn’t fade even after hours. Every so often, Isaac would glance at me, like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. Maybe it was the first time he didn’t see me as competition but as someone standing beside him against the same ghosts.

It was strange–how easily respect could grow out of ruin.

By the time we looped back toward the ridge, the light had started to fade. The world looked bruised, purple at the edges. Matt headed ahead to report back, but Isaac lingered near the slope.

He looked out across the trees. “You ever think about what happens when it ends?”

“When what ends?”

1/3

“This. The running. The fighting. All of it.”

Can’t say I’ve planned that far ahead”

de gave a small, crooked smile. “You should. You’ve got something to live for.”

I didn’t answer, but he caught the flicker in my eyes anyway–the same ghost that followed me through every breath since

Bed been taken and brought back. Rory.

phantom thread had started pulling again. Faint, but there. The bond still dead, yet something deeper humming lerneath like an ember refusing to go cold.

voice cut through my thoughts. “If I wanted her, you’d know.”

oked at him then. long enough to make sure he meant it. “If you hurt her,” I said quietly, “you’ll know too.”

He didn’t flinch. Just nodded once, like the understanding between us didn’t need more words.

When I turned away, the forest seemed darker. Azrien pressed harder against my ribs.

We’re being watched,‘ he said.

1 froze, scanning the treeline. Nothing moved, not even the wind.

But when I looked again, a shape shifted between the shadows–there and gone, like smoke folding into itself.

“It feels like the forest is watching back,” I murmured.

And for the first time that night, I almost believed it was.

*Rory*

The storm had finally passed, but the quiet it left behind felt wrong. Like holding your breath after lightning–waiting for the next strike that never came.

I sat in Vallin’s study, the candles burning low, the smell of ink and old parchment filling the air. Mona was sprawled across a chair beside me, sketching quick copies of the runes spread over the desk. Vallin stood over them, his brow furrowed, muttering under his breath.

“These aren’t just old sigils,” he said. “They’re layered—like someone was trying to hide a second language beneath the first.”

“Who?” I asked.

He didn’t look up. “Whoever wants the fracture open again.”

The words sank into me like ice. The “door” had been haunting me since the note, since Zerina’s whispers started returning. I could feel her again now–faint, distant, but there.

Balance, she murmured. Everything that is, seeks what it isn’t.

I pressed my hand to my chest. The voice wasn’t just in my head–it reverberated through my ribs, soft and resonant, like a string being plucked somewhere beneath my skin.

Mona leaned closer to me. “She’s speaking again, isn’t she?”

2/3

I nodded slowly “Not like before. It’s.. gentler.”

“Gentle isn’t bad,” she said, her pencil stilling. “It means she’s healing. You both are.”

Maybe. Or maybe it meant the storm was coming again, and she was bracing me for it.

the time I left the study, the corridors were dim, moonlight spilling through the tall windows. The Academy had never

der was waiting outside my door.

hin task what Vallin said. He didn’t need to. The way I gripped the parchment told him enough.

ied against the wall, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m starting to think this bond of ours is never coming back.”

He moved closer, his shadow folding over mine. “Then we’ll build a new one.”

I looked up at him, caught between wanting to believe and being afraid to. “You make it sound easy.”

“It isn’t,” he said. “But neither are we.”

I tried to smile, but it came out too fragile. “You’d wait through all of this? The silence, the distance, the not knowing if I’ll ever feel you again?”

He reached out, his hand brushing mine. “I already am.”

Something in me cracked open at that–quietly, softly, like glass finding its first fracture.

Zerina’s voice whispered again, faint as breath. Balance begins where fear ends.

For the first time, I let myself hope that she was right.

I didn’t know if the door could be closed, or if the bond could be restored. But with Xander’s hand in mine and the moonlight bending around us, I felt–for one trembling moment–like the world wasn’t breaking apart. It was trying to piece itself back together.

And maybe so was I.