Chapter 230: I Hate Torin

Rhydor’s POV

Cold air clung to the stone walls of the chamber, but I barely felt it.

My whole focus was narrowed down to the woman floating silently in the space before me.

She rested right above the stone tomb, her body suspended just a few inches off the surface, hovering quietly in midair.

I stepped as close as the carved stone border allowed, my hands trembling as I reached out to touch her face.

I pressed my warm palms gently against the sides of her cool face, holding her with a level of care I had never shown anyone in my entire life.

Her dark eyelashes rested flat against her pale skin. Her lips were completely devoid of color.

She looked utterly peaceful lying there, so still and quiet that it cut through my chest like a dull blade.

It was an unnatural peace, far too quiet for someone who had once been so full of wild, stubborn fire.

Tears gathered in my eyes, spilling over my lashes to drip down onto her cold cheek.

"Mud," I whispered, my voice cracking under the crushing weight inside the room.

I raised my thumb, gently smoothing a stray lock of dark hair away from her forehead.

My fingers brushed across her brow, tracing the hair that had once been smeared with dirty river mud to hide who she was.

"It was you all along," I said, my chest heaving as a shaky breath escaped my lips.

I closed my eyes, but the painful memories immediately rushed in to fill the darkness.

The quiet banks of the river stream. The sound of flat pebbles skipping across the rushing water.

The loud sound of her sudden laughter echoing off the rocks. The gap in her wide smile where her front tooth used to be missing.

The fearless way she had looked me dead in the eye, completely unbothered by my rank or my anger, refusing to take a single step backward.

"You were right there," I murmured, opening my eyes to stare down at her quiet face.

"All this time, you were standing right in front of me, and I was too blind to see it. I pushed you away. I treated you terribly, and I hurt you even more."

Hot tears streamed down my face, slipping off my chin and soaking into the front of my shirt.

"After promising to be your friend..." My voice broke, turning into a raw sob as I lowered my head near her shoulder.

"I only brought more pain into your life. I made you feel unwanted. I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry."

I wrapped my arms carefully around her floating body, pulling her cold form toward my chest, weeping openly in the dark room.

"Forgive me," I sobbed into the quiet air. "Please forgive me."

The cruel reality of my failure pressed down on my neck like a heavy iron yoke.

The very first female friend I had ever made in my entire life was standing right beside me, and she had been my fated mate all along.

Yet instead of cherishing her, instead of keeping her safe from the world, all I had ever done was cause her endless pain and misery.

Even now, as she lay motionless in this room, I could not grant her the peace of total rest.

I could not bring myself to step back, open my arms, and let her go.

I kept my fingers locked tightly around her, holding onto her memory with a desperate grip, having no idea how to finally pull myself away.

*******

Genevieve’s POV

The midday sun beat down warmly on the garden path, warming the dark soil around my flowerbeds.

I stood near the edge of the stone courtyard, tilting a heavy brass pitcher to shower cold water over the vibrant, blooming petals.

The sweet scent of damp earth and fresh leaves filled the quiet afternoon air, offering a rare moment of peace amidst the constant worries of the pack.

The abrupt sound of fast, heavy footsteps crunching against the gravel path shattered the silence.

I paused, lowering the brass pitcher to my side, and turned around to look down the walkway.

Amanda was running toward me. Even though she possessed the fully grown, tall body of an adult woman, her awkward steps and frantic movements belonged entirely to a scared child.

Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot, her pale cheeks thoroughly soaked with fresh tears.

It was clear she had been weeping hysterically for a very long time before running down to the gardens.

"What is wrong, child?" I asked, my brow furrowing with deep concern as I set the pitcher down on the grass.

She did not answer with words. She simply lunged forward, throwing her long arms tightly around my waist and burying her face against my shoulder.

Heavy, shaking sniffling noises erupted from her tall frame as she clung to me, her fingers gripping the fabric with the needy grip of a toddler seeking comfort from a mother.

"Easy, girl," I said gently, wrapping my arms around her back and rubbing her shoulders in slow, soothing circles.

"Easy now. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened."

She tilted her head back, looking up into my face with wet, tear-stained eyes. A quiet hiccup shook her throat.

"I want to be big," Amanda choked out, wiping her wet nose with the back of her sleeve just like a little kid would do.

"Make me big."

I frowned down at her, my hands gently brushing her blonde hair back from her tear-streaked face.

"Are you sure?" I asked carefully, keeping my voice low and steady.

"We have discussed this many times. You always say you want to wait."

She shook her head side to side, her hands tightening against my skirt.

"I cannot wait anymore. I will explain to Azura later. But I want to be big now. Please, make me big."

I studied the frantic, desperate look in her eyes. Despite the young child living inside her mind, the agony on her face was deeply real.

"What did Torin do to you?" I asked quietly, my voice taking on a strict, careful tone.

Amanda’s face instantly twisted into a furious, childish scowl, her blue eyes flashing with intense heat.

"I hate Torin. I do not want to talk about Torin. Just make me big."

I stared into her face for a long moment. The playful innocence that usually filled her expression was completely gone, replaced by a stubborn determination that she refused to let go of.

"If I make you big, I can never make you small again," I warned her, my voice turning firm and serious. "It is irreversible. Are you sure this is what you want?"

She nodded her head without a single second of hesitation.

I let out a long breath, looking down at the quiet garden surrounding us before turning my gaze back to her tall frame.

"Fine," I said softly, giving in to her plea.

"I will make you big. But it will take days. Maybe a week. You will not wake up until it is done."

A flicker of worry crossed her face, her childlike mind trying to grasp the timeline.

"I will not wake up soon?"

"No," I said, shaking my head slowly.

"Are you ready for that?"

She stood silently on the gravel path for a few moments, her jaw setting into a hard line as she made her final choice.

"Yes," she said, her voice completely firm. "I am sure."

"Then I will make you big," I said softly, reaching out to gently touch her face.

Amanda looked up into my eyes, her fingers reaching up to clutch my hand tightly.

"One more thing," she whispered, her voice dropping into a quiet, trembling tone. "I only have one last request."

"What is that, my child?" I asked, leaning down closer to hear her final words.

********

Rhydor’s POV

A day later...

Torin stood beside his loaded horse, adjusting the heavy leather straps on the saddle.

Two large travel bags were firmly tied to the animal’s back.

I leaned against the wooden post of the stable, watching his calculated movements.

"Why are you leaving?" I asked, my voice flat and quiet.

Torin paused for a fraction of a second, his fingers lingering on a brass buckle before he pulled it tight.

He gave a casual shrug of his shoulders.

"I just want to go home," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the saddle.

"I miss it."

I stared at the side of his face. I knew there was far more to his sudden exit than he was letting on.

But I simply did not have the energy left in me to push him for real answers.

"If you ever need anything..." I said, keeping my tone steady. "Do not hesitate to let me know."

Torin finally turned his head to look at me, giving a single, solemn nod.

"I know. Just take care of yourself, Rhydor. You look more like a dead person than a living one right now."

He did not laugh at his own words. Neither did I.

He forced a small smile across his lips, but the warmth never reached his dark eyes.

"Take care of yourself, Lil Bro," he said softly, reaching out to pat my shoulder twice before pulling his hand back.

He grabbed the reins, placed his boot into the stirrup, and swung his leg over the horse’s back.

Sitting high in the saddle, he turned his head and cast a long, searching look back toward the main pack house doors.

He lingered there for a moment, clearly waiting for someone or something to appear on the stone steps.

Whatever he was looking for, he did not see it.

He let out a quiet exhale, gathered the leather reins in his grip, and clicked his tongue.

The horse turned around and began a steady trot down the dirt road leading away from the pack house estate.

I stood in the middle of the yard, watching his retreat as the distance grew between us.

Then I felt it.

A sudden shift in the air snapped over my skin. The breeze cooled instantly, carrying a strange, heavy presence that made the hair on my arms stand up on end.

You need to see this, Silas’s voice suddenly echoed through the mind link, sharp, breathless, and laced with immediate danger.