Alpha Xander's Undoing Chasing my Unknown Mate Back novel Chapter 124

The courtyard looked like it had finally remembered how to breathe.

the first time in months. laughter drifted across the Academy grounds without sounding forced. The scars of battle- oken walls, cracked stones, the blackened edge of the north tower–were still there, but sunlight hit them differently now. didn’t hide the damage, it softened it, like light had decided that the ruin deserved warmth too.

cod at the upper balcony, arms folded on the railing as I looked down at the field below.

hara and Castor were at it again.

Thay’d been training since dawn, and half the Academy had stopped pretending they weren’t watching. It wasn’t like anyone could look away when the ground itself trembled under their feet.

Castor moved first–lightning trailing his palms, his grin wild and bright. He lunged forward, the charge of his energy splitting the air with a crack that made my pulse jump. Dhara countered, slamming her palms into the ground. The earth answered her like an old friend, rising in a surge of stone that caught the lightning, scattering sparks across the courtyard

like stars.

The crowd gasped. Someone whooped.

Castor’s laugh rang out–loud, reckless, entirely alive. “You call that defense, stormblade?”

Dhara narrowed her eyes. “Keep talking. I like watching your mouth move before it gets struck.”

He dodged her next strike, wind curling around his body in a flash of silver, pushing him higher. The way his movements folded into hers was effortless–a clash that looked like it had always been choreographed, except I knew it hadn’t. Their powers collided, feeding off each other instead of fighting.

Lightning struck the ground and split into dozens of smaller arcs that danced across the stones before dying out in curls‘ of smoke. The earth shuddered again, but it didn’t crack. It just… breathed.

Mona’s voice carried over the crowd. “Bet he kisses her before the week’s over.”

Matt laughed from beside her. “You’re assuming she’ll let him live that long.”

looked over and couldn’t help smiling. They were standing side by side, leaning against the same column, both pretending they weren’t. Mona’s hair was tied up messily, her cheeks flushed from excitement, while Matt–predictably–had his arms crossed and that quiet look that said too much without words.

He nudged her elbow. “You keeping track of who wins?”

“Obviously,” she said, tapping her clipboard. “You never know when a new ship’s gonna sail.”

“Ship?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I stifled a laugh. They hadn’t noticed me watching, but it was impossible to miss the soft rhythm between them–the kind that didn’t need lightning or earthquakes to make itself known. Just quiet understanding.

Below, Dhara sent a final surge through the ground, sending Castor sprawling backward in a burst of dust. The crowd erupted in cheers. She wiped her brow, smirking triumphantly, while Castor lay flat on his back, laughing like defeat didn’t

1/3

f

exist

He lifted a hand toward her. “Call it a draw?”

Not even close,” she said, but she still reached for him.

When their finger’s met, something changed. I could feel it from where I stood–the hum that rolled across the field like the add exhaled through them. Wind twisted up in a column, spiraling into the sky, and the stones beneath them glowed

anly Sky and earth, colliding, finding balance.

as breathtaking.

checis quieted, replaced by awe.

Valin stepped out from the archway, robes trailing like shadows against the sunlit stones. He didn’t speak, just folded his hands behind his back and watched as the storm they’d created faded into light. His expression was hard to read, but the faint nod he gave before turning away said enough.

He was proud. We all were.

Because this–this was what the Academy had needed to see. Not another fight. Not more fear. But power that didn’t destroy. Power that built.

When the last spark died out, Dhara and Castor stood at the center of the courtyard, faces inches apart, breaths unsteady. For a second, the world leaned in.

Then she shoved his shoulder. “You’re insufferable.”

His grin only widened. “And you’re magnificent.”

The crowd burst into laughter.

Mona cupped her hands around her mouth. “Just kiss already!”

Matt caught her arm before she could yell again, shaking his head but smiling. “You’re impossible.”

I stayed where I was, letting the warmth of it all soak in. It felt strange, watching something so normal happen after months of chaos. Strange, and beautiful.

For once, the Academy wasn’t divided between gifted and ungifted, between those who feared and those who were feared. It was one body breathing the same rhythm, laughing the same laughter.

Xander appeared beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. He didn’t speak at first; he just leaned against the railing, gaze. fixed on the courtyard below.

“Feels different, doesn’t it?” he said finally.

“Like the calm before something we can’t see yet,” I said.

He nodded slowly. “Vallin’s right to be wary. The Venatorum’s too quiet.”

“I know.”

We stood there in silence for a while, watching as Dhara and Castor started another round–this time slower, more controlled, more intimate, I caught the way he smiled at her when she let her guard down and thought, this is what healing

looks like.

2/3

Xander must’ve sensed where my mind went because he said softly, “She deserves something good.”

So do we.” I replied, glancing up at him.

His eyes met mine, calm and steady, but I saw it–the same storm I felt brewing in my chest. We both knew peace like this

last But maybe it didn’t have to. Maybe it just had to be real enough to remember.

tumble of thunder rolled through the sky. Not the kind from a sparring match this time–something deeper. waiting beyond the horizon.

Ad up mid–laugh, her expression tightening as if she’d felt it too.

d found mine on the railing, fingers curling tight. “Storm’s coming,” he said quietly.

med, eyes fixed on the line of dark clouds crawling toward us from the west.

“Let it come.” I whispered.

Below, the students still cheered. The Academy still laughed. And for that one fleeting afternoon, it didn’t matter that the world was holding its breath again.

We’d learned how to breathe together.