Alpha Xander's Undoing Chasing my Unknown Mate Back novel Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Rory

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The old hunter’s shack smelled like dust, pine, and something faintly metallic–like time itself had been rusting inside these walls. A fire crackled in the stone hearth, throwing shadows across the splintered floorboards, and the single window, fogged with breath and age, let in slivers of silver moonlight through the

trees.

I sat on the edge of the creaking bed, wrapped in a tattered wool blanket that smelled like old cedar and faint ash. My body ached in ways I couldn’t name. Not from bruises or burns–I’d healed faster than I should have -but from something deeper. A kind of tired that no sleep could fix.

Xander was crouched in front of me, gently dabbing a cloth along the line of a cut I hadn’t even realized was still open near my collarbone. His touch was careful. Reverent. Like if he pressed too hard, I might splinter.

I didn’t speak. Neither did he. The silence wasn’t heavy–but it held weight. Something unspoken curled in the space between us, and I couldn’t tell if it was guilt or grief. Maybe both.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said softly, eyes on his hands instead of his face.

“I know,” he murmured. “I want to.”

I swallowed and looked down at the jagged edge of the wound–half–healed already, a faint glow still shimmering at the edges. My body was healing faster now. Too fast. Faster than it ever had before.

Chaos. That’s what they called me. What I was.

The word wrapped around my throat like a noose. I had spent so long convincing myself I wasn’t gifted- denying even the possibility–because admitting it would mean unraveling everything I thought I knew about myself. But Chaos? That wasn’t a gift. It was a warning. A curse. An ancient power that destroyed everything it touched. The stories didn’t end with heroes. They ended with blood. And now that name lived on me.

Was this why my father started sedating me the day I got my wolf? Not because he feared my health–because he feared me?

I thought it was about control, about some unknown sickness, about grief for Eden. But maybe it was something darker. Maybe he recognized the signs. Maybe he looked into my eyes and saw something too familiar–something he’d seen in my mother before she died. I imagined the way he used to look at her when he thought no one was watching. The way his eyes burned–not with love, but fear. Just like he looked at me the day I told him I met my wolf. Was that why she was taken from us? Did someone kill her because of what she was? Because of what I am?

And Eden… goddess. Did she know? Had she figured it out before I did? The sketches in her journal, the way she looked at me near the end–like she wanted to tell me something but couldn’t. Was she trying to protect me, or was she hiding her own truth? Was she gifted, too? Or did she die because of mine? The questions twisted through my gut like barbed wire. And no matter how many times I whispered I’m not Chaos to myself, the fire in my veins said otherwise.

I didn’t want this. I never asked for it.

13:45 Tue, Sep 16 N

Chapter 49

But it was mine now.

…

And pretending otherwise wouldn’t make it disappear.

I clenched the blanket tighter around my shoulders.

:

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“I don’t remember everything,” I whispered. “It’s like flashes. A scream. Fire. The smell of burning skin. Someone begging. I don’t even know if it was real or just… leftover from the dream.”

“It was real,” he said, voice barely audible. “But not all of it.”

I looked up slowly.

His eyes were on mine, steady and unreadable. “You didn’t kill a village, Rory. You didn’t bring down a building. You saved yourself. You saved me.”

“Did I?” I asked, breath catching. “Because I remember the way the flames felt in my lungs. Like they belonged there. Like they wanted more.”

Xander looked away.

And that silence–that damn silence again–spoke louder than any reassurance he could’ve given.

“You’re still scared of me,” I said, not as an accusation but as fact.

“No,” he said quickly, too quickly. Then, quieter, “I’m scared for you.”

My jaw clenched. “That’s not the same thing.”

He didn’t argue.

His fingers moved lower, brushing another scrape on my ribs. His thumb lingered at the edge of the torn skin before pulling away like it had burned him.

“I was awake,” he said. “For all of it. When you changed. When you fought them. When you looked at me like you didn’t know who I was.”

“I didn’t,” I said, voice hollow. “Not at first.”

He nodded slowly. “But you came back.”

The fire popped behind us, a sudden burst of orange light that danced against the dark walls.

“I don’t know how long I can,” I admitted. “Stay in control.”

“You’re stronger than you think.”

“I’m more dangerous than you know.”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t care.”

13:45 Tue, Sep 16 N

Chapter 49

“You should.”

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He stood abruptly and walked to the hearth. For a moment, he said nothing–just stared into the flames like they held answers I couldn’t give.

“You think I’m staying because I’m not afraid,” he said finally. “You think I’m here because I believe you’re still the same girl I met that day at our wedding. The one who made me laugh when I hadn’t in weeks. The one who ran into danger before she ran from it.”

He turned back to me, and the look in his eyes was wildfire.

“I’m not here because of who you were, Rory. I’m here because of who you are. Even now. Even after everything.”

I couldn’t breathe.

He came back to me slowly, dropped to one knee in front of the bed, and took my hand.

“You’re not Chaos,” he said. “You’re the one who stood in the fire and came back. The one who keeps coming back, no matter how much it burns.”

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