“Miranda,” he said my name with a growl, finally recognizing me. “You shouldn’t be here.”
My heart leapt in my chest upon hearing his voice, but it wasn’t the warm, tender tones he would use when we were together. It was cold, distant, and filled with suspicion.
“Taking up the hobby of streaking?” I kept talking, keeping his attention on me. “Or is this another one of your ill-begotten attempts to seduce me?”
Xander's lips twisted into a smirk. “I don't need to seduce you, Miranda. You're already mine.” His words were laced with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down my spine.
I forced myself to remain calm even as my heart raced in my chest. “I belong to no one, Xander. You know that.”
“Do I?” His voice was low and dangerous. “You're always finding your way back to me, no matter how hard you try to resist.”
I swallowed hard.
“Xander, you need to come with me,” I said firmly, still wading toward him. “You're scaring the guests and causing a scene.”
He laughed, the sound manic and unhinged. “I'm not going anywhere, Miranda. Not until I've found what I'm looking for.”
“And what's that?” I asked, treading carefully.
“My place.” Xander suddenly looked stricken as he parted the water with his hands, looking down into the liquid as if he could find what he sought there.
“Your place?” I asked, stopping a few feet away from him.
“Yes, yes,” he mumbled. “I’ve lost it. I belong nowhere. I’ve been lost in time and space, and I lost it, lost my place.”
My lips parted as my heart cracked a little. “Xander,” I said softly. In that moment, I wished I knew where he’d been staying. I didn’t know where he was sleeping after being confined to an underground prison for so long. He needed something tangible—an address, something.
“You belong. I know you’ve been gone from the world a while, but you’ll adapt. I promise.”
Xander’s agitation grew as he tunneled through the water more insistently. “No, no, no, no.” Then his eyes squeezed shut as he clenched his fists shut. “It’s not here.I’mnot here. I can’t find my place.”
Those fists rose then slammed back into the water, causing a geyser to blast off. For a moment, I thought a bomb hit me. My hands clapped over my ears. I barely heard the screams and cries of the bystanders.
“Xander,” I yelled. “You have to stop.”
Cracking an eye open I found Xander’s face contorted and mouth open in agony as the water continued to flow and explode all around us, but he never blasted me out. I wanted to cling to him, ground him in safety. So I did just that. Stumbling forward in water that was now only knee deep, I threw myself at him.
More water bombs went off.
“Xander,” I yelled, plastered to his body. “It’s okay, I’m here. You have a place with me. You’re safe, everything is okay.”
Underneath me, his body shuddered as if explosions similar to the water around us were taking place in his cells.
My hand gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him to me, trying to ground him.
The silence that followed was deafening after the cacophony. Two strong arms wrapped me up and Xander held me to him until only my tip toes touched the ground.
In that moment, with Xander's form trembling against mine, a realization struck me like a bolt. He was a powerful god who commanded the elements, yes, but beneath that, he was achingly vulnerable. Here he was, lost and seeking a place in a world that had moved on without him. My throat tightened at the thought and a wave of tenderness washed over me.
His confession, raw and honest, sliced through the barriers I'd built around my heart. “I think I'm lost,” he murmured, his voice a mix of despair and desperation.
Sharp pricks jabbed at the back of my eyes, emotion clogging my throat. “You aren’t lost. I’ve got you.” My voice was steady despite the turmoil churning inside me. Here, in the midst of the chaos he'd unintentionally wrought, I found a truth I'd been reluctant to admit—even to myself. I cared for Xander, not just as a god, or a fighting partner, but as the complex, fractured soul he was.
“I’m so sorry, Miranda. I’m sorry for everything.” He clung to me like a lifeline, like his salvation.
The moisture in my eyes formed a tear, sliding over my cheek. I couldn’t say it back, but I was sorry too. I wasn’t even sure what for. For him? For me? For the pain he was in, for the mistakes I’d made?
That his apology was unnecessary because I found his flaws as lovable as his strength?
