Chapter 40 Xeni
Xeni
The sound of rushing water stirs me awake, and I grunt as I sit up and lift my arms in a stretch, joints popping softly in the quiet room.
Beside me, the bed is empty, and I frown toward the closed bathroom door.
The faint hiss of running water seeps through, and as I’m getting ready to go investigate, it opens.
Bash’s head pops out, hair damp and a playful smile on his face. “Hey, sleeping beauty.”
“What time is it?” I ask, not fully awake yet.
“A little past dinnertime.” Right on cue, my stomach growls, and Bash grins as he walks over to stand beside the bed. I grunt and slump against him, laying my head on his stomach.
“This used to be softer,” I complain as I poke him in the belly.
He chuckles as he guides me to my feet. “Come on, princess. Let’s get you clean. I ran you a bath.”
We walk into the bathroom and my gaze falls on the tub of steaming water. It’s a stark contrast to the extravagant tubs I grew up bathing in. They were miniature swimming pools with scented oils and expensive loofahs, and enough room for a few people to sit side by side.
This one is small, designed for passing humans to rinse off the day and nothing more. The water will only cover half my body, and my knees will have to bend in order for me to fit.
Tears prickle behind my eye as I chew on my lip.
Bash is infinitely soft as he wraps his arms around me. “I know it’s not much—”
“It’s perfect,” I interrupt, voice thick. “Everything is perfect.”
He kisses me, and I grimace at my morning breath, but he doesn’t complain, only gives my nose a peck before he releases me and nods toward the sink.
He steps out of the room while I brush my teeth and empty my bladder, then taps his knuckles against the door before peeking back inside with a smile.
“Are you getting in with me?” I ask.
He laughs as he glances at the bathtub. “There would be no water left if we both tried to fit in there.”
“Your loss,” I tease.
Heat surrounds my feet as I step in, and I lower myself into the water.
“Oh, holy shit, I needed this,” I groan.
Bash kneels beside the tub as I recline, one leg hooked over the side so my body can stretch out in the warm water. His eyes roam my frame, taking in every inch with a kaleidoscope of emotions that shift across his face.
There’s anger when he looks at my ruined eye, and warm fondness at my sleep-rumpled hair.
Lust at the dewy expanse of my chest, and devastation at the inky, gnarled mark on my hip.
Remorse and crushing guilt as he tracks the scars on the inside of my thighs, and unfiltered need at the smooth swell between them.
“Not exactly the same as I used to be,” I say softly.
His eyes return to mine. “No,” he agrees, reaching for the soap and lathering a washcloth with careful hands. “Neither of us is.”
I lift my chin obediently as he begins to wash me, suds gliding over my neck and chest in slow, soothing strokes. He focuses on my abdomen, brows creasing as he reaches my mark, and his fingers hesitate for the briefest moment.
“It’s ugly,” I whisper, fighting back another wave of tears as my lip trembles. I gesture toward my thighs. “They’re ugly too.”
Bash swallows roughly and dips the cloth into the water, rinsing away the soap. “Nothing about you has ever been ugly, Xen. They’re just reminders of what you sacrificed.”
He leans in and presses the softest kiss to my ruined eye, then another to the bridge of my nose, before hovering over my mouth.
His eyes stay locked on mine as he says, “From the first time I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. You took my breath away. That hasn’t changed.”
“Even now?” I ask.
“Especially now.”
The kiss on my lips is more insistent, but still achingly sweet, a slow press that takes its time like he’s memorizing the shape of me.
“You’re the type of beauty that hurts, princess. Every time you walk into a room, it’s like I’m underwater. Like there’s no space in my lungs for anything but you, and it fills me so full I’m sure I’ll drown in it.”
My lip quivers again as he kisses me once more.
“Nothing about you is ugly, Xen. Not a single thing about you could ever be less than perfect, no matter how different it might be.”
Water sloshes as I reach out and wrap my arms around his neck. It’s clumsy, and the side of the tub digs into my ribs as I soak his shirt, but he holds me, too, with no hesitation.
“I love you,” I whisper into his shoulder, and his palm smoothes over my hair.
“I love you, too.”
We sit like this for a moment before I release him and ease back into the water. A smile flits over my lips as he takes the cloth and swipes at my face, cleaning the tears and any remnants of my deep sleep.
“Will you be alright if I leave you to finish?” Bash asks, and I nod as he climbs to his feet. He sweeps my body again with a long, lingering gaze, and in that moment, my insecurities disappear.
I feel as beautiful as he tells me I am.
After he steps away, I dunk my head under the surface and scrub my hair clean, then soak until the bath loses its heat. Water drips as I stand and nudge the drain stopper with my toes, and I watch the tiny funnel it creates as I wring out my hair and dry off with the towel Bash left hanging.
Clothes wait for me inside the bedroom, laid across the foot of the bed, but Bash isn’t here. I dress and comb my hair, then pace the room for a few minutes before I get impatient.
The evening is cool as I open the door, the breeze chilly against my damp hair. I search the courtyard for him, but everyone here is a stranger.
Chakri rounds the corner and smiles at me, tossing a hand up in a friendly wave.
“Your mate sent me to find you,” she says as she approaches, then shakes her head at my concern. “He’s fine. Come.”
I follow, inspecting the others as we walk. They seem to live in harmony here, though there’s an air of caution that surrounds everyone. They’re ready to take up arms to protect this place if needed.
“Is Sovran here?” I ask.
She shakes her head as we round the corner. “He had an errand to run but said to tell you he will be back.”
Chakri stops and gestures down a path that leads toward the trees. “He waits for you there.”
Confused, I glance at her, but she smiles and pats my forearm before turning and walking away.
Rocks crunch under my feet as the breeze picks up again, and I shiver at the chill in the air. The relief from the heat is welcome, though, after an excruciatingly hot summer.
“Bash?” I call, searching the quiet forest that grows thicker as I walk.
“Over here!” he calls in the distance.
The trees open around a pond as I crest a small hill, and Bash waits for me there. Tiny lights flicker behind him, candles with their flames whipping in the breeze, but his body blocks the rest.
“What is this?” I breathe as I step closer.
He fidgets as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, then smooths a hand over his hair before taking a quiet, steadying breath. I try to glance past him, catching the edge of a blanket laid out on the ground, but my attention quickly returns to him.
Bash is adorably shy, tugging at the back of his neck as I stop in front of him.
“It’s a date.”
“A date?” I repeat.
“Yeah… a, uh… a second first date?” he says hesitantly. “I promised you one, and things have been a little…”
“Crazy,” I finish in a whisper.
He chuckles as he drops his hand, reaching for mine. “Yeah, crazy.”
Our fingers lace as he steps aside, and I stare at the blanket stretched over the grass, surrounded by a flickering collection of candles. Big ones, small ones, short and fat, tall and skinny. Mismatched and sporadic, they cast a shifting glow over the blanket and the basket placed in the center.
“It’s not much—”
“Stop saying that,” I interrupt, tugging on his hand and forcing him to face me. “It’s perfect.”
His throat moves in a swallow as he nods, then guides me forward to sit on the blanket.
The night is peaceful out here, disconnected from the rest of the community.
Frogs croak and crickets sing back and forth over the quiet rush of water from the pond.
The sky is orange over the horizon, and I close my eye as its warmth washes over me.
“I brought dinner,” he says, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
I glance at the basket, and he pulls out a few rolls and an assortment of fruit, then a glass container filled with a slab of roast that makes my mouth water. He passes me a fork, but I shake my head when he reaches for plates.
“We don’t need them,” I say as I scoot closer and lean against him.
I grab the bowl and stick my fork right into the chunk of meat. A groan leaves my throat as I take a bite, and I tip the bowl in his direction.
He chuckles as he stabs himself a piece as well. “So, what does a pretty thing like you do for fun?” he teases.
I grin as I take another bite of roast. “Pester handsome men and convince them to spoil me, mostly.”
He leans over to reach for the bread, offering me a roll before taking one for himself. “Oh? And how am I doing so far?”
“You’ve got the handsome part down,” I tease. “The spoiling… well, I’ll need more of it to make my assessment.”
We both laugh, and I’m lighter than I’ve been in years.
Conversation comes easily between us as we reminisce about the past. We share stories about the moments we found joy at Ljómur, swapping memories of nights spent closed up in that tiny apartment playing cards or trying to make cafeteria food exciting.
Laughter wasn’t easy to find in that place, happiness less so, but we’d managed.
He asks about the experiments they performed on me, and I tell him, despite his clenched jaw and how the mood darkens over us.
I update Bash on what happened after he was gone.
How our friends banded together to keep me from losing my mind, even if they didn’t understand the depth of my sorrow in the beginning.
I share stories of the newly rekindled friendships with Sprocket and Aryn now that we’re all together again, and tell him more about the group that will become his family as much as mine.
Bash, in turn, tells me the adventures he’s been on in the city. The dangerous missions he dove into when he was self-destructing, and the moments of connection he’d found with his new friends that became his family, too.
By the time we fall into a comfortable silence, the food is long gone, and the stars form a twinkling canopy overhead. We lay back on the blanket, hands woven, and I rub my deliciously full belly.
“The stars are so pretty out here,” Bash says. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen them outside the city that I’d forgotten how bright they shine.”
“They’re like this at the village, too. Harder to see with all the trees, but just as beautiful.”
“Have you ever wished on one?” he asks.
I squeeze his hand, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles.
“After they made you leave, I spent my nights on the rooftops, staring off into the distance like I might sense where you were. I was a shell of a person, Bash. Barely eating and in a constant state of panic, but I climbed that ladder every night trying to find you. Most nights I sent a prayer up, too.”
“What did you pray for?”
“For you to be okay,” I answer. “That was all I wanted… it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I was never okay without you,” he says quietly.
I roll onto my side to stare at his profile in the darkness. “But you’re okay now?”
“Yeah…” He glances over at me and meets my gaze as a tender smile curves his lips. “Now I am.”
“Did you wish on any stars?” I ask.
His smile turns rueful. “The scientist in me hates to admit it, but yeah. Mine wasn’t as altruistic as yours, though. It was about a year after I’d been in the city, and I had been flirting with this guy at the bar.”
“Sebastian,” I warn.
He chuckles and peeks over at me. “Hold the jealousy and let me finish.” The humor slides off his face as he stares into the sky again. “He was tall and lean… long blond hair.”
“Sounds familiar.”
He nods as he ignores my pointed sarcasm.
“We stepped outside, and I was so glad it was dark. I couldn’t see his face, so I pretended it was you.
He tried to kiss me, and your name left my lips.
He was pissed… and rightfully so. Abandoned me there, alone in the dark, and I remember leaning against that wall and staring up into the sky.
A single star was there, twinkling back at me. I made a wish, then.”
“What was it?” I ask, rubbing his knuckles again.
“You,” he whispers. “I wished for you. To find me, to come back… to give me the piece of my heart that you’d held onto from the minute we met. I didn’t care how it happened, or where we ended up, but I begged the fates for it that night. My wish was for you. It’s always been you.”
We turn to each other, arms reaching and hugging and holding. His hand weaves through my hair and presses my face into his neck as I draw in a shuddering inhale, and I clutch at clothing as we weave ourselves around one another.
“It came true, you know,” he says after a long moment. “You came back to me.”
“Maybe the Fates were listening, after all.”
He sighs contentedly into my hair. “Yeah. Maybe they were.”