Chapter 54: Meaningless

Azura’s POV

"Get on the horse, Azura."

His voice was flat. Cold. Like nothing had just happened. Like he hadn’t just called me his mate in front of his cousin. As if the ground hadn’t just shifted under my feet and shown me a side of him I didn’t know existed.

I stood there frozen, the words still echoing around us. He called me his mate. He actually said it out loud. Why? Why now, after all the months of silence and cold shoulders and looks that passed straight through me like I wasn’t even there?

"Azura."

Torin’s voice pulled me out of my head. I blinked and turned to look at him. The playful glint that always lived in his eyes was gone. He was watching me with something quiet and serious, the kind of look that said he understood exactly how heavy this moment was.

"Go with him," he said softly, nodding toward the chestnut horse. "It’s better this way right now."

I looked back at Rhydor. He was already mounted, sitting straight and still, waiting with a patience that didn’t suit him. His face gave away nothing. A wall with eyes.

My feet started moving before I told them to. When I reached the horse, I stopped and looked up at him. He didn’t look down at me. He just extended his hand, his leather glove worn at the knuckles.

I stared at it for a second.

Then I took it.

His grip was firm and warm. He pulled me up in one smooth motion and settled me in front of him on the saddle. The scent of woodsmoke and leather wrapped around me immediately. His arms came forward to take the reins, and suddenly he was everywhere, his chest solid against my back, his breath close to my ear, his warmth bleeding through my clothes.

My pulse jumped. I hated that it did.

He urged the horse forward without a single word, and we left Torin standing alone in the clearing behind us.

The ride back was silent. Completely and suffocatingly silent.

I wanted to say something. I wanted to turn around and shake him and demand to know what he meant. But the words wouldn’t come, and fear of his reaction kept me still. So I sat there gripping the front of the saddle, the trees blurring past on both sides, my mind running in circles.

He called me his mate. In front of Torin. Why?

Was it real? Did some part of him actually mean it? Or was it just anger, just a way to remind Torin of boundaries, just one man telling another to back off from something he didn’t even want?

I didn’t know. I never knew with him. That was the most exhausting part.

The pack house appeared through the trees, its stone walls grey and familiar, and my stomach dropped the way it always did when I saw it. Not home. Never quite home.

Rhydor brought the horse to a stop in the courtyard and dismounted first, landing quietly on the ground. Then he turned and held out his hand again.

I looked at it. This was the one thing he always did. Always helped me down, always steady, always careful. This one small kindness that made no sense beside everything else he was.

I took his hand. He helped me down. The moment my boots hit the ground, he let go.

A guard appeared and took the reins. Rhydor turned toward the pack house.

Something inside me cracked open.

I reached out and grabbed his wrist.

He stopped immediately. His whole body went still, like I’d pulled a pin from something. He didn’t turn around. Didn’t shake me off. Just stood there, and I could feel his pulse under my fingers, steady and strong, and it made the ache in my chest worse somehow.

The courtyard noise faded around us.

Then slowly, he looked down at my hand on his wrist. He stared at it like it was something he didn’t quite understand. Then his gaze traveled upward, unhurried, moving over my arm and my shoulder and my throat until his amber eyes found mine.

My breath left me.

The way he was looking at me was nothing like his usual coldness. It was intense and raw and deep, the kind of look that went straight past your skin and into the parts of you that you kept hidden. For one moment, he looked at me like I was something real.

Get a grip, Azura. Right now.

I swallowed and forced the words out, quieter than I wanted them to be.

"Why did you call me your mate? You’ve never done that before. What was the real reason?"

I waited.

His jaw tightened. The warmth in his eyes disappeared so fast I almost thought I’d imagined it, replaced by that familiar, distant chill.

Then he spoke.

"I don’t like losing," he said, his voice completely flat. "Not to anyone. Not even over something meaningless."

The word hit me like a fist to the chest.

Meaningless.

I actually stepped back. One involuntary step, like my body reacted before my mind could catch up. My chest pulled tight, the kind of tight that makes breathing feel like work. My eyes burned. I pressed my teeth together and refused to let a single tear fall. Not here. Not in front of him.

He pulled his wrist out of my grip, sharp and sudden, like my touch was something unpleasant. Then he walked away. Straight back. Sure steps. Disappeared through the pack house doors without looking back once.

Just like that.

I stood in the middle of the courtyard and watched him go.

Meaningless. I was meaningless. The bond was meaningless. All of it. Every moment I’d spent wondering, every flicker of hope I’d stupidly allowed myself. Meaningless.

Jerk. I thought it hard, hot with anger. Heartless, cold, arrogant jerk. What was I even thinking? That he’d changed? That he actually felt something?

I cut the thought off before it could finish.

No. He was always going to be this. I just kept forgetting.

"Azura!"

I turned quickly and wiped my face with the back of my hand.

Liona was running toward me across the courtyard, her hair slightly loose from whatever she’d been doing, her face bright with relief.

The tight thing in my chest loosened just a little at the sight of her.

She reached me and pulled me into a hug so fierce I lost my breath. I let her. I held on for a second longer than I meant to.

"Two days!" she said, pulling back to look at my face. "I missed you. Where did you even go? Nobody would tell me anything properly."

I forced a smile. "I missed you too."

Her eyes moved over my face and the smile faded. She had always been able to read me faster than anyone.

"What happened?" she asked quietly. "And don’t say nothing, because you look terrible."

"Thanks."

"Azura."

I exhaled. "Can we go inside first? I need to get out of this courtyard."

She nodded and fell into step beside me, her eyes never quite leaving my face.

We went straight to my room. The moment the door closed, she turned and crossed her arms and looked at me like she had all the time in the world and wasn’t moving until she heard everything.

So I told her. All of it.

The witch’s hut, the crystal ball, the name the witch had spoken. The Wraithfen. The creatures she called the Borne. The argument with Rhydor. The ride back in silence.

And then I told her what happened in the courtyard.

"He called me his mate," I said, looking at my hands. "Out loud. In front of Torin. He actually said the words."

Liona’s mouth dropped open. "He what?"

"He said, she’s my mate, and I decide who carries her." The bitterness in my own voice surprised me. "Those exact words."

She stared at me, her mind clearly working through it. "And then?"

"And then we came back. And I asked him why he said it."

"What did he say?"

I looked down again. "That it was meaningless."

Silence dropped over the room like a heavy cloth. The fire crackled in the corner. That was the only sound.

Then Liona’s face went red.

"I am going to kill him," she said, her voice shaking. "I am genuinely going to kill that man. How does a person look someone in the eye and say something that cruel?"

A laugh came out of me, weak and watery, and one tear slipped down before I could stop it. "Get in line."

She sat down beside me and wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me into her side. I leaned into it and let myself be tired for a moment.

"None of what he’s doing is okay," she said softly. "You know that, right? You deserve to be loved. Not treated like a prize he doesn’t want but won’t let anyone else touch."

"I know," I said.

"Then why do you stay?"

I didn’t have an answer. Not one that made sense out loud.

After a while, I changed the subject because I needed to. "You said you had something to tell me before I left. You were smiling when I saw you."

Liona pulled back, and her whole expression shifted. The anger drained away and something softer, more flustered, took its place.

"Oh," she said. "That. It’s nothing really. Just... silly girl things."

"Tell me. Please. I need one good thing today."

She fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, cheeks going pink. "I found someone," she said finally, barely above a whisper. "Someone who makes my chest feel strange. Like a charm pulled on it."

I sat up straighter. "Who?"

She bit her lip. Looked at the door. Looked back at me. "You kind of mentioned him. In the story you just told me. About the ride."

I stared at her.

Then it hit me.

"Torin?!"

She slapped both hands over her face. "Not so loud!"

I laughed. A real one this time, the kind that came from somewhere deep and surprised me with how good it felt. "Liona!"

"He’s kind!" she said through her fingers. "He actually talks to me like I’m a person. He looked at me today and I just... I don’t know. Something happened."

"You like him," I said, grinning at her.

"I don’t know him well enough to like him."

"You like him."

She dropped her hands, flushed from forehead to chin, and then she smiled, small and genuine and a little helpless.

"Help me," she said quietly. "You’ll help me, right?"

"Every step," I said.

We talked until the afternoon light turned gold and long, her laughter filling the room, pulling me out of my own head for a few hours. It was exactly what I needed.

When evening came, we started packing bags for the journey. Liona’s hands shook a little as she folded clothes.

"Can I come?" she asked without looking up. "Please. I can’t sit here and wait. I’ll lose my mind."

I looked at her. "I’m not even supposed to go. So yes. We’ll be the two uninvited guests together."

She grinned, half nervous and half determined. "I like your style."

****

I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The fire had died to embers, casting long shadows across the room. My hand found the pendant at my throat, the metal warm against my cold fingers.

Meaningless.

The word still echoed in my head, over and over.

The hook is set. The line is pulled.

I don’t know why he seemed to affect me this badly, even when my wolf isn’t present, but he doesn’t look affected with his wolf being there. Argh! This is annoying.

I stared at the ceiling until my eyes felt heavy.

****

The morning arrived loud and restless.

The courtyard was a different world by the time Liona and I stepped outside. Warriors moved in every direction, saying goodbye to people they loved, loading carts, checking horses. The air tasted like tension and early morning cold.

We stood in the shadow of the doorway and watched.

That’s when I saw them.

Rhydor and Isadora near the stables. Close. His hand holding hers, his head bent toward her, speaking words too quiet to reach me.

My chest tightened hard.

In public, I thought. He does this in public.

"I could walk over there right now," Liona said through her teeth.

I said nothing. I just watched. My hands curled at my sides.

"Well, good morning, lovely ladies."

We both turned.

Torin.

Liona’s face changed instantly, the sharp anger softening into something flustered and warm. The blush arrived before she could do anything about it.

"Good morning," we both said, slightly out of sync.

Torin leaned against the cart beside us, relaxed as always, and then followed our eyes across the courtyard to where Rhydor stood. Something shifted in his expression when he saw them. A tightening around the jaw, quick and controlled.

Then he looked at me.

"If I were your mate," he said, and his voice was quiet but very clear, "I’d claim you in front of everyone. Not hide it like something to be ashamed of."

The words landed somewhere tender. Liona looked at him with wide eyes, clearly not expecting that kind of honesty from someone she’d only just met.

Torin wasn’t smiling. He meant it.

"You deserve better than that, Azura. You know you do."

Before I could find a single word to say back to him, the prickling started. The back of my neck. The crawling sensation I had learned to recognize.

I turned.

Rhydor was no longer looking at Isadora.

He was looking at us. At Torin. His hand was still holding hers, but his eyes were locked onto Torin with the kind of focus that had nothing casual in it.

And they were burning.