Chapter 2 Xeni
Xeni
“Are you sure you have everything?” August’s voice is cautious, but it startles me.
For days now, I’ve been stuck in my head, but today has brought a whole new level of distraction. Ever since I started packing, this trip has escalated from ‘what if’ to a reality that's impossible to ignore.
My mind keeps playing through the possibilities.
What if I’m captured in the city?
What if I never find him?
What if I do?
I’m not delusional. There are no visions of grandeur or daydreams of a happy reunion. Bash isn’t going to open his arms and pull me back into the life we once shared. Four years of silence—my silence—have shattered any chance of that.
I broke his heart.
Completely, deliberately, and without a single word of explanation.
He’ll never want to cross paths with me again. Hell, he’ll never want to spare me a thought, so when I break this unspoken rule and show up?
If he were anyone else, I’d expect a shouting match. Maybe a good backhand, or a glob of spit in my face.
It would be justified.
But Bash isn’t the sort to shout and swing fists.
His anger was never loud or violent. It lived in the quiet spaces.
The pauses that stretched too long in conversation, and the clipped edge to his words when something cut too deep.
He was always too logical, too controlled to let emotions rage unchecked.
Unlike me.
“Xeni?”
Right.
My chest swells with a deep breath, and as I push it out, the worried lines on my face relax. By the time I spin to face August standing in my doorway, my smile is intact.
“You offering to help me pack, pretty boy?” I ask with a wink, and Elas’s grumbling growl makes my smile turn more genuine. He’s like a shadow, never far from his mate. Riling him up has become a favorite hobby of mine because it’s just so easy.
“Tell you what,” I say, gesturing at my dresser, “if you want to give me a hand, you can grab me a few things from that top drawer while I finish loading my food.”
August comes bouncing inside my tiny home, always so eager to help. Elas crams himself into the room as well, taking up half the space on his own.
My entire adulthood has been spent in military barracks, so I opted for something small.
It’s just me, after all.
Everything is in one open room. My bed sits against the far wall with a dresser beside it, and a cushioned chair faces the window. A rectangular butcher-block table splits the kitchen, serving as a prep area and somewhere to eat.
I bite my lip to hide my smile as August opens the drawer, and his brows furrow in confusion. He pulls out a strip of fabric, dangling it in front of his face when realization hits. He drops it and slams the drawer shut as I burst out laughing.
“Xeni!” he hisses.
Elas narrows his eyes and storms to the dresser to see why August is so worked up. He yanks the drawer so hard he almost topples the whole thing.
“Hey, easy, meat mitts!” I shout.
He hooks a pair of my underwear with his pointer finger and lifts them into the air before shooting me a glare. “Should’ve known your need to be extra would include these.”
I snatch the lace from his hand. “Something tells me you’d pull them off just as well as I do.
” I glance over my shoulder and give his giant body a leering once-over that makes his irritation flare hotter.
“I’d offer to share, big boy, but you would not fit in these.
That fabric stretches far too easily for someone of your…
size to shove themselves into it. These things are hard to come by, you know. ”
August’s face is adorably flushed as he crosses his arms over his chest. I’m not sure if his embarrassment is from the discussion of Elas’s giant dick or the panties in my hand.
Probably both.
“I take it to mean you don’t need help, then?” August asks.
I chuckle as I shake my head. “You’re too nice for your own good.”
“I’ve been told that a few times,” he says with a shrug.
One loaded bag sits by the bed, and the backpack in front of me on the kitchen table is almost full. While his offer is appreciated, it isn’t necessary.
“I’m almost done here," I say as I gesture at the bags.
“You’re leaving today?” August asks.
“Yeah,” I answer, taking a deep breath as I once again try to mentally prepare. “As soon as I toss this stuff in the back, I’m off.”
“You’re sure you want to do this alone?”
Elas’s jaw tenses as he stares at August, the muscle ticking in that familiar way as he braces for his mate to jump in and offer to help… again. But he doesn’t have to worry.
Most of my life has been spent alone.
August says it like it’s a curse, like having no one to count on is the worst fate he can imagine. To him, it’s another dirty word to use when you’re looking for something particularly insulting. And I suppose it is, in its own way.
My tendency to self-isolate means others have called me plenty of names.
Arrogant.
Cocky.
Superior.
When you’re left standing outside the circle, when you don’t fit in the spaces they expect you to fill, it’s viewed as a choice you made at some point.
A preference instead of a punishment.
It’s easy to forget that whether you’re trapped inside or shut out, it’s still a prison.
My mask is perilously close to cracking, so I force the smile I wear so well and aim it at August’s hopeful face.
“The plan only works if I do it alone. Getting into the city without drawing any sort of attention will be hard enough by myself, but a soldier travelling alone is forgettable. Add a human civilian into the mix and it becomes ten times more suspicious.”
“Will you at least take a more reliable vehicle?” August asks.
“The SUV will work just fine for me,” I answer, unsure how to handle his concern.
It’s genuine, and warranted.
The busted front end of the SUV is visible through the open door, its bumper barely hanging on.
August’s frown deepens as he gestures at it. “You’re asking for trouble.”
I switch my smile from understanding to obnoxious and toss him a wink. “Don’t worry about me, sugar. I find trouble, not the other way around. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re self-sabotaging,” he accuses, and damn, if that doesn’t hit a little too close to the truth.
My facade slips, and my gaze moves away from his worried face to the collection of food I’m shoving into my pack. “There are fourteen of you in the village. If something happens, you need reliable transportation. Out there, it’ll just be me. I can take care of myself.”
August pushes a hand through his hair, watching me as I finish packing. I can tell he wants to say more, so I distract him instead.
“You want to help?” I ask, and he nods. “Grab that bag and toss it in the back.”
Predictably, Elas grabs it before August can reach the handle, and I follow them out the door after zipping my backpack.
A metallic squeal shrieks into the quiet morning as the hatch lifts, voicing its protest. The SUV’s front and sides bore the brunt of the collision, but the force of the impact warped the entire frame. It still runs, though. The engine is steady, and the axles are unaffected.
Elas tosses the bag in, and I set my pack beside it. The hinges scream again as I slam it closed, and I glance up at the brightening sky.
The weather is in my favor, at least.
“Do you really think Bash can help us?” August asks.
It’s jarring to hear my mate’s name coming from his mouth. These are two distinct periods of my life, colliding in a way that seems impossible, and listening to the others discuss him feels like it’s being done in a foreign language.
“If anyone can, it’s him,” I respond after a pause. “I just have to find him first.”
“You never said what happened between the two of you.”
Like every other time he’s probed for answers, I only shrug. “Things didn’t work out.”
August’s skepticism comes in bounds as he purses his lips. “Didn’t work out? We aren’t talking about some casual fling, Xeni. This is your mate. What could’ve possibly made you walk away from that?”
A touch of my anger flares as I give him another practiced smile. “What can I say? I was always a lone wolf. And besides, it doesn’t seem fair to keep all this,”—I gesture down my body—“from the rest of the world. It would be selfish of me, and I’m a giver, baby.”
August sees through my sarcasm. He opens his mouth to argue, but before the words can escape, Elas’s hand lands on his shoulder. A silent conversation passes between them, and another pang of longing hits me at the easy way they coexist. Perfect complements to each other, and always so in sync.
I had that once.
Elas recognizes my need to escape this conversation and offers me an out as he gestures at the sky. “You’ll want to take advantage of the daylight. I’m not convinced those headlights work.”
“One of them does,” I say before gesturing at my eye. “We match.”
Regret flashes over his expression as his gaze lingers on my leather eyepatch, but it’s gone before I can figure out what I’m supposed to do with it.
August flashes another of his wide sunshine smiles. “Everyone is awake to see you off.”
“I’m sure they are,” I snort, but the smile I give him in return is more genuine than the others. “Thanks.”
The engine turns over on the first try, and I try to take it as a sign of good things to come.
August’s claim that everyone is waiting to say goodbye makes my skin feel too tight. I’m tempted to just drive away without another word. Keep them at arm’s length so they can’t topple any more of these protective walls I’ve spent a lifetime constructing.
Loathsome as I am to admit it sometimes, this ragtag band of misfits has become the closest thing I’ve had to a family in a long time.
That’s scarier than it has any right to be.
Dusky sunlight shines through the cracked windshield as I pull into the center of the village, and, sure enough, everyone is up and alert.
They loiter outside their houses as if they actually have a reason to be there at this ungodly hour.
Despite my straight face and rolled eye, affection tugs at my heart.
Everyone says goodbye in their own unique way.
Ronan complains, while Cameron jokes.
Reyes teases, and Nyx gives me a timid smile from his side.
Taryn gives me a polite goodbye, but Lillith wraps me in a bear hug.
Matuk and his crew stand further back and only wave, then Aryn thumps me on the back with worry inside the calm of his brassy golden eyes.
Sprocket storms over and yanks my ear, dragging me to her level. “Ouch!” I yelp, but she wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me in a move that’s very unlike her.
“You’ve always been impulsive, Xeni, but going alone is irresponsible.” Her gruff voice defies her size, and right now, it’s packed with emotion. “We loved him, too, you know. Maybe we could—”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her, but she pulls back and stares at me. Her bronze eyes don’t miss a thing, and they’re coated in concern that’s out of place on her usual blasé demeanor.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asks.
I pull the driver’s side door open again and tap my hand against the frame. “No,” I admit with a resigned shrug.
Her lips pull into a tight line as she steps back and puts her hands on her hips. Neither of us says anything else, and after a long stretch of silence, I toss a wave at the others before I seal myself into the vehicle and drive.