Chapter 107: Parting

Azura’s POV

The sky was not fully awake yet. Just a pale grey light sitting over everything, like the world was still yawning, still trying to decide if it was ready for the day. The trees, the yard, the road beyond the gate, all of it was stuck in that in-between place. Nothing fully clear, nothing fully alive. Just that cool quiet air that came before the sun made its real appearance and committed to being present.

The cold had that sharp bite to it. The kind that crept through every layer and found any gap it could and settled there like it had paid for the space.

I stood near the porch with my arms crossed and looked at the trees.

Behind me, the sound of straps being adjusted moved through the quiet steadily. Not rushed. Just purposeful. Rhydor was packing the horse with the same precision he brought to everything, saddlebags on both sides, supplies settled properly, the axes from the market fastened tight on the left. You could hear in the way he moved through it that he trusted no one else to do it the way he needed it done.

The horse stood without complaint. Patient and unbothered. A horse understood that humans were going to take as long as they were going to take and arguing with that was a waste of good standing-around time.

I kept my eyes on the trees.

Liona and Torin were somewhere behind me to the right. I had not turned to check but I could feel them there the way you felt people who were deliberately giving you space without making a production of it. The air between all of us had that particular weight to it. The kind that was not uncomfortable exactly but was not light either. Too many things sitting in it unsaid.

Footsteps crossed the yard toward me.

I knew the pace of them. I did not turn.

He stopped a few feet away.

"I am leaving," he said. His voice was calm but there was something underneath it. Something that had been there since the bench by the stream and had not gone away. "Back to Crescent Moon."

"I figured," I said. Still looking at the trees.

A pause.

"I need you to promise me something."

I said nothing to that. My eyes stayed where they were.

"Take care of yourself, Azura." His voice came down slightly. Not demanding. Something closer to needing. "Please."

I turned and looked at him.

His face was not wearing the Alpha mask. Not the controlled closed-off expression he carried through most of his life like a piece of clothing he had forgotten to take off. Just his face. The jaw and the amber eyes and the particular way he looked when he was standing in front of something he did not know how to resolve and had run out of other approaches.

"I have been taking care of myself long before you ever existed in my life," I said. Even and clear. "I survived without an Alpha then. I can do it now."

"I know you can," he said.

He held my gaze for a moment.

"That is the problem," he said quietly. "You do not think you need anyone."

Something moved through my chest at that. Something real and specific that I did not want to examine too directly because examining it would have required admitting it was there and I was not prepared to do that this morning.

I looked away, back to the trees.

He turned toward Torin.

I watched it from the corner of my eye without fully turning. The two of them stood a few feet apart with the ease of people who had known each other long enough that silence between them required no explanation at all.

"Torin," Rhydor said.

"Lil bro," Torin replied. Nodding once with that expression that suggested he was entirely at peace with whatever reaction he was about to receive.

Rhydor’s jaw shifted into the frown it always shifted into when Torin used that name. "Quit calling me that."

Torin said nothing. His face said everything it needed to say without using a single word.

Rhydor looked at him for a moment then glanced back at me briefly before returning his attention to Torin.

"This place is neutral," he said. "But the world is not."

"I understand," Torin said.

"Take care of yourself."

A beat of quiet between them.

"And take care of her."

Something passed between them then. I was watching it from the side and could not fully read it, but it was real, and it was complete, and it did not need me to understand it to mean what it meant.

"You do not have to tell me twice," Torin said.

Rhydor looked at him steadily. "If anything happens, I do not care about the laws of Hollowcrown. I will come back."

Torin almost smiled. The almost version, where the smile was there in the eyes before it reached anything else. "I would expect nothing less."

He crossed to where Liona was standing.

She straightened slightly when he came close. Not stiffly. Just the automatic adjustment of someone who had spent a long time around Alphas and had certain things built in without noticing they were built in.

"Liona," he said.

"Safe travels, Alpha," she replied. Her voice was steady and warm.

He shook his head slightly. "You can call me by my name. No need for formalities."

Something shifted in her expression. A small genuine surprise that arrived before she had decided to produce it. Then she smiled.

"Safe travels, Rhydor," she said.

He nodded once. "Thank you. For everything."

She looked at him for a quiet moment. "My pleasure."

He nodded again. Then he turned.

He walked back to the horse. One hand on the saddle and one foot in the stirrup and then he was up, settling into the seat with the ease of someone who had done this more times than he could count. He gathered the reins. Looked down.

I was not looking at him.

My arms were still crossed. My face was toward the trees. I had been looking at these trees for a significant portion of the morning, and they continued to do nothing interesting, but I was committed to them now.

"Goodbye, Pumpkin," he said. Quiet. Just for me.

I said nothing, but heard him wait.

The horse shifted its weight. The bird in the trees went through its four notes. The cold morning air sat around all of us and held its position without apology.

I was not going to say anything, but then I said something.

"Do not ride too hard tonight," I said. Still looking at the trees. Still not looking at him. "The mountain passes are slippery."

Silence.

"That almost sounded like you care," he said.

"I was not worried about you," I replied. "I was worried about the horse."

From somewhere to my right Torin produced a sound that was not remotely close to being contained. A full loud laugh that took up all the available space around it and had absolutely no intention of being quiet about itself.

"She has got you there," he said. Still laughing. Not even making an attempt at composure.

I kept looking at the trees. My face did not move.

"The horse appreciates the concern," Rhydor said.

His voice was quiet. Even. But underneath it, sitting right at the bottom of it where you had to be paying attention to catch it, something that was almost warmth and almost something sadder than warmth at the same time.

I kept my face toward the trees and said nothing back.

He waited one more second.

The quiet held.

Then the horse moved. I heard the hooves pick up pace on the ground, and I kept looking at the trees because I had made a decision about the trees this morning, and I was going to honor it.

The sound moved further away. And then further. And then it was just the grey morning and the cold and the bird still going through its four notes like it had been hired specifically for this moment and intended to earn its fee.

I waited.

Then I looked.

The road beyond the gate was empty. Just the mist sitting over it in that unhurried way mist sat over things and the trees on both sides and the particular stillness of a space that had recently held something and now held nothing.

Something moved through my chest.

You could have just said goodbye, I thought. A real one. Without the horse comment.

I looked at the empty road for another second.

Then I thought about how much he hurt me.

He has done worse to me, I told myself. He can handle one morning.

I turned away from the gate.

Not fast. Not slow. Just turning the way you turned when you had made a decision and were not going to stand around second-guessing it.

Torin had recovered from his laugh and was looking at the sky with the expression of someone who had enjoyed that moment and was quietly filing it away for future use. Liona caught my eye and said nothing and I was grateful for that.

I walked back toward the house.

There was something else waiting now. Something that had been sitting at the back of everything since the information I got from Torin and the mysterious woman.

Rhydor was gone, which meant it was time.

Time to stop sitting around and face the questions that had been sitting in my chest.