Chapter 16 Xeni
Xeni
I stare at the wall, tracing the faint scuffs and marks with my eye even though I should try to rest. My mind refuses to quiet for the night, spinning in relentless circles of worst-case scenarios ever since Bash threatened to drop me outside the city.
The possibility that this might be the end, that he could finally be done with me, creeps up my throat in a tide I can’t swallow. It floods me with a grief so sharp it feels like it could drown me from the inside.
Footsteps approach the door, heavy at first, then pausing as whispered voices exchange something just outside. One set retreats down the hall while the door creaks open.
Bash’s familiar scent reaches me before anything else, and I realize he’s alone. My heart stutters in a desperate, traitorous hope even as dread coils tighter in my gut.
Maybe it's a good thing.
Or maybe this is goodbye, and he's granting me the dignity of doing it without witnesses.
I lie perfectly still, facing away and barely breathing as he hesitates in the doorway.
A quiet sigh escapes him, laced with exhaustion and something far more fragile.
He steps closer until his presence looms beside the bed, then settles onto the floor and leans against the side of it with another sigh.
The sound is deeper this time, carrying a weariness that’s seated in his very soul.
Thick, suffocating silence stretches between us, broken only by the soft rhythm of our breathing. Every one of my nerve endings is alive with the agony of his nearness as I wait in the charged quiet.
“I know you aren’t asleep,” he says at last.
“No,” I admit just as quietly.
“Why’d you keep it?”
I twist to look over my shoulder to find the back of his head only a foot away. Slowly, I roll over to face him, though I keep my distance.
“Keep what?”
“The ring,” he whispers.
My fingers tighten in the blanket to stop me from reaching out. “It was the only part of you I had left.”
He breathes a laugh that dances the line between sorrow and anger. “We both know that isn’t true. You kept the best parts of me when you sent me away.”
“Bash—”
“I have questions,” he interrupts, “and I want answers. But only the truth this time. No more half-truths or sideways lies.”
“I’ve never lied to you,” I say, my voice trembling despite my effort to hold it together.
“Maybe not,” he replies, “but you never gave me the whole truth either.”
I don’t counter him.
He’s right, and the silent admission hangs heavy in the space between us.
He swallows audibly before he asks, “The people you’re with now… they’re friends?”
“It took time for me to accept,” I say after a moment of finding my composure, “but yes. They’re good people, trying to right wrongs in a world full of them.”
“That’s a heavy burden for a small group.”
“It is,” I agree, “but things feel… different there.”
“Different how?”
I pause, staring at the back of his head where I know the pattern of his corkscrew curls by heart. “Do you remember how we used to talk about feeling like we were running in place? Like no matter how hard we tried, nothing ever changed, and we were just following the path that was laid out for us?”
He nods, turning his head just enough that I catch the flutter of his lashes.
“After you were gone,” I continue, “the world stopped moving entirely. I was standing there, watching life happen around me while I played the role they expected. When they moved me to Glaston, it felt like I could breathe a little easier. Maybe because I was farther from Ljómur, maybe because I was closer to you—”
“Don’t,” he mutters, the word pained.
My fingers brush the back of his neck in a touch so tentative, I’m not even sure he feels it until he freezes.
He doesn’t pull away, and my foolish hope grows.
“It’s true, though. We said no lies.”
He swallows hard and nods once, and I take it as permission to continue.
“I wasn’t happy… I could never be happy, but it was a step in that direction. When they sent me back to Ljómur, I thought for sure it was going to kill me. The weight of that place… the memories…”
I grow quiet, tracing tiny shapes across his skin and absorbing every ping of static that passes between us. “When we escaped and I saw the place was nothing more than rubble, I was terrified. Any resources I had, any ways to make sure you were okay—”
“Wait,” he interrupts as he turns to look at me. “You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”
“Of course.”
“Why?” he asks.
I search his eyes for a long time, and they’re hard at first. But eventually something inside him caves, and I see the vulnerability he hides so deep.
“You know why,” I finally whisper.
“You left me,” he says, his voice catching. “And what’s worse, you blindsided me with it. You could’ve warned me you were going to break my heart.”
“I had to do it.”
“Why?” he asks a second time, and it’s just a single word, but it carries so much weight.
I force a swallow and steady my breathing, nodding a few times to collect myself.
“They found out,” I admit.
His shoulders tense. “What?”
“I was so careful,” I say as I shake my head. “I always covered the mark, and never showered where anyone could see. But one day a prisoner panicked and grabbed my scrubs, and everything happened too fast. Aeliphis was there. She saw the color of your skin on my hip… she knew.”
He’s quiet as he takes in the information, the muscles in his jaw working. “Okay, so she found out. That doesn’t answer my question.”
I shake my head, remembering that split second that sealed our fate and stole our future. Such a tiny moment that caused such destructive ripples in time.
“She wasn’t going to keep our secret out of the goodness of her heart,” I say.
“So, what?” he challenges. “She would’ve reported us?
We could’ve faced it together, Xeni. We could've lived in those tiny, shitty apartments, and let them study us. Hells, I would’ve let them tear me to pieces if it meant staying with you.
We could’ve been together. We were always supposed to be together. ”
Tears blur my vision, and a lump swells in my throat. “It’s not that simple.”
“It could’ve been,” he says, voice rising until it cracks with the depth of his hurt. “It would’ve been awful, but I would’ve chosen it every time if it meant keeping you. I loved you that much.”
“You don’t understand,” I choke out.
He rushes to his feet, but I scramble to follow and grab his shirt to stop him from walking away.
“Then help me understand!” he begs as he spins to face me, ripping his shirt from my grip.
The absence of my hold on him is jarring, and I stumble back against the wall.
Bash steps forward until he crowds me, caging me in his arms like it’s a punishment.
Like it’s not exactly where I want to be.
“Make me understand,” he pleads, searching my face like there might be a simple answer there.
“Please,” I beg as his eyes squeeze closed. “Please, Bash, trust me. I didn't have a choice. You ask why I kept that ring? It’s to remind myself of my promise to you.”
He shakes his head, eyes still closed. “What promise?”
“To protect you,” I whisper, the nearly silent words breaking. “I swore I would always protect you.”
“Protect me from what?” he demands, finally opening his eyes to meet mine.
The silence stretches as dread mounts in my stomach, but even now, the risk is too great to share.
It’s the one thing I can’t give him, and the one thing he needs.
There’s war in his posture—the desperate desire to believe me clouded by the self-preserving doubt that tells him it’s just another lie.
“Please,” I say at last, fingers clutching his shirt like it’s my only lifeline. “Don’t go. I love you, Bash. Everything I’ve ever done was because I love you. Please don’t leave.”
He pushes out a shaky exhale, and his voice is pained. “If I don’t go now, then I’ll just fucking stay.”
“So stay,” I beg, tugging on his shirt and pulling him close until we’re breathing the same air.
“Stay.”
His thumb brushes the tears on my cheek with a tenderness that undoes me completely.
“What I would’ve given to hear you say that four years ago,” he murmurs as he leans his forehead against the wall beside my head, our cheeks barely touching.
“Too much time has passed,” he says, voice thick. “It’s too late for us.”
“No, it isn’t,” I insist with a choked sob as more hot tears fall. “Not for us. We’re forever. We promised.”
His head twists until his lips brush my cheek, hot breath puffing over my skin. “I hate how much I want you.”
“Don’t hate me,” I whisper back, turning to find his eyes. “Don’t send me away. Don’t push me out, don’t… don’t…”
Panic closes my throat as more tears track my cheek, and I close my eye so I don’t have to watch whatever comes next.
Pity or anger, indifference.
All of it hurts.
“Don’t throw me away,” I plead. “I just wanted to protect you. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
His breath hitches, dissolving into quiet sobs that echo mine, and something in me shatters completely at the sound.
“Do you still think you did the right thing?” he asks as he presses closer.
I could tell him it was wrong.
Swear I made a terrible decision.
Beg and plead for forgiveness, and claim that he’s right, that he’s always been right, and I was wrong for making that choice for us both.
I should lie.
But I promised truth.
“Yes.”
He pushes out a shaky, surprised breath before he pushes away from the wall. Instincts flare inside me, telling me if I let him walk away this time, he won’t come back.
He’ll be gone, and I’ll be as good as dead myself.
“Bash, no,” I beg, still gripping his shirt as he bounces back to me.
Questions dance in his eyes—confused, angry things that demand a response I can’t give them.
He inches forward, his internal conflict playing out before me and his restraint held by a thread that’s close to snapping. Tentative fingers grip my chin, and his eyes dip to my mouth before finding mine again.
My lips part, ready to beg, but he silences the pleas trying to escape as he kisses me with devastating gentleness.
It’s not a first kiss, not by hundreds—thousands, even—but gods, it feels like it in all the ways that matter.
Uncertain breaths blowing over my skin. Eyes that flutter closed but spring open again, searching for a reaction.
Hesitant lips and unsteady hands, and the thundering of our hearts as they reach for their other half.
My palms find their place on his chest, feeling that pounding inside him. He pulls back with a sigh through his nose, still so close I can feel his breath.
Uncertainty fills his eyes, his pupils dilating like he’s perceived a threat.
Fight or flight.
Stay or go.
Another shaky exhale leaves him as he leans forward and kisses me again. There’s more intention behind it this time, more surety behind the questions. My fingers flex against his pecs at the familiar weight of his mouth on mine.
Every cell in my body reacts, crawling to where we touch and igniting as they beg for more.
I’ve always been so fucking greedy with him.
For a few blissful seconds, everything disappears and all that’s left is the two of us together. The axis has been righted, and the world makes sense again.
But it doesn’t last.
He pulls back and searches my face, gaze sweeping over my cheeks, my mouth, then lingering on the eyepatch before moving to the messy strands of hair falling across my forehead.
It feels like he’s memorizing me, noting every line, shadow, and scar like he’s taking a photograph of this exact second to carry with him.
Like he knows it might be the last.
His eyes finally settle on mine again, heavy and red-rimmed, and his voice comes out scraped raw.
“Don’t make this harder for me than it already is. I won’t survive being broken by you again.”
He leaves me there, and I let him go.
My arms fall limp, useless at my sides, because fighting now would only tear the wound wider.
Those embers of hope that had flickered back to life die in an instant, snuffed out until I’m cold again. He reaches for the door, fingers lingering on the frame as if letting go hurts more than he can stand.
“Bash?” His name tears from me, small and broken. I’m nearly doubled over, the threat of losing him for good crushing my ribs inward.
“Do you love him like you loved me?”
The words tumble out before I can stop them, desperate to hear the answer while never wanting to know.
He pauses, head bowed and shoulders rising on a shaky breath. The silence stretches until I can barely breathe through it.
“Just let me let you go, Xeni,” he says at last. “Leave. Run away like you always do. Can’t you do that for me?”
“No,” I whisper. Tears stream unchecked, carving tracks down my face. “I can’t.”
“Please,” he says, voice breaking. “Make this easier. Leave me to pick up the pieces one last time. You owe me that much.”
He walks out without looking back, and the door closes with a soft click that echoes louder than any slam in the hollow space he leaves behind. I call his name long after the lock turns, my voice cracking into raw, wrenching sobs that tear from my throat in the empty dark.
Each one is a plea for the impossible.
For him to come back.
For the years to rewind.
For the love that still consumes every part of me to be enough to fix what I broke.
But wishes aren’t always granted, and prayers go unanswered.
Maybe one last kiss is all the Fates will allow.
I press my fingers to my mouth, holding onto the ghost of his lips as I slide to the ground and cry.