Free Web NovelChapter 74: Chapter 74 She Sent Her Off Alone
Renzo’s POV
I knew something was wrong the moment I reached her door.
It was left wide open.
Jade never left her room door open like this.
She never really felt at home here so she always cherished her private space and didn’t appreciate anyone intruding.
She would never leave her door open like this.
Unless something was really wrong.
I stepped in slowly, like I was afraid the sound might shatter something fragile inside.
Her room was empty.
My chest tightened.
A single, terrible thought slammed into my head, sharp and sudden
Did she run away?
The idea made my stomach drop. Jade didn’t disappear without reason. If she left, it meant she felt pushed to the edge. It meant she believed staying hurt more than leaving.
And I hadn’t been there.
I turned on my heel and moved fast.
The living room, empty.
The couches sat where they always did, the fire cold, the space quiet in that hollow way that only shows up after something important has already happened. I scanned every corner like she might suddenly materialize if I looked hard enough.
The dining hall next.
Cold chairs. No mug on the table. No half eaten meal abandoned like she sometimes did when her thoughts got too loud.
Corridors.
I checked them all. Each turn fed the panic coiling tighter in my chest. My steps echoed too loudly. My heartbeat was worse.
With every empty space, the same thought returned, heavier each time
You should have come sooner.
I’d told myself she needed space. That she’d talk when she was ready. That pushing would only make things worse.
What a lie.
Space doesn’t heal abandonment. It just gives it room to settle.
I rounded the corner toward the south wing when I saw one of the guards. He straightened when he noticed me, eyes flicking away too quickly. Guilt lived there. I knew that look.
“Where is she?” I asked.
He hesitated.
That was enough.
“What happened?” My voice came out lower, rougher.
The guard swallowed. “Alpha Ashford... ordered a body burning.”
The words didn’t register at first. They floated, weightless, meaningless.
“A what?” I asked.
“A... ritual burning,” he clarified. “By the stream.”
The world tilted.
My vision narrowed. My mouth tasted like metal.
“Who went with her?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
The guard didn’t speak.
“Who,” I repeated.
“She went alone.”
Something inside me went cold.
The stream wasn’t far, but the distance stretched endlessly as I ran. My thoughts tangled, collided, tore at me with every step.
Her mother
She’d burned her motherr alone.
No council. No witnesses. None of her mates standing beside her. No one to share the weight of saying goodbye.
We let her do that.
The smell hit me first. freewebnovёl.ƈom
Smoke.
Old wood. Oil. Ash.
Then I saw the fire.
A canoe, half submerged near the bank, flames licking its edges as it drifted uselessly against the stones. The water reflected orange and red, rippling like the surface of something wounded.
And there she was.
Jade stood on the shore, torch still clutched in her hand.
She wasn’t crying.
That was the worst part.
Her posture was rigid, like she’d gone hollow and whatever was left had frozen in place. Her eyes stared forward, unfocused, reflecting firelight without really seeing it.
She looked... emptied out.
I stopped a few steps away.
For the first time since I started running, I didn’t move forward.
Because it hit me then, clear, sharp, unavoidable.
She did this alone.
She shouldn’t have had to.
She had three mates and she still had to do this alone.
The guilt didn’t arrive all at once. It sank in slowly, heavy and suffocating, settling deep in my chest where it hurt to breathe.
I’d left her alone with grief so big. So heavy it should have been shared.
I stepped closer, quietly, like any sound might shatter what little was holding her upright.
I stood beside her.
Close enough to feel the heat of the dying flames. Close enough to see the way her fingers trembled around the torch handle.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
The words felt thin. Inadequate. Almost insulting.
She didn’t look at me.
The fire crackled. The water shifted.
“For what?” she asked calmly.
Not angry.
Not accusing.
Just... empty.
The sound of it hurt more than shouting would have.
“For not coming sooner,” I said. “For....” My voice broke. I swallowed. “For leaving you alone.”
She finally turned her head slightly, just enough that I could see her profile in the firelight.
Her expression didn’t change.
“It’s fine,” she said.
The words landed like a blade.
“I prefer being alone,” she continued, voice even. “It’s easier.”
That wasn’t true.
But she needed it to be.
“I never expected anything from you anyway,” she added quietly. “From any of you.”
Each sentence stripped something away.
“And it’s not like this is new,” she went on. “You weren’t there when my father died either. None of you were.”
I flinched.
She wasn’t wrong.
And she wasn’t throwing it at me to hurt me.
She was stating it like a fact. Like a settled truth.
That was worse.
I wanted her to scream. To cry. To rage at me. Anything that meant she still needed something from me.
Instead, she stood there calm and distant, like she’d already grieved the loss of more than one thing tonight.
This wasn’t a fight.
It was a withdrawal.
Something closing quietly.
Something I didn’t know how to stop.
The fire died down behind us. The last of the canoe sank beneath the surface, leaving only ripples and smoke.
Jade turned away.
“I’m done here,” she said.
She took a step.
I reached out without thinking and caught her hand.
Her skin was cold.
“Jade....” I started.
She pulled back instantly.
“Don’t,” she said, finally turning to face me fully.
Her eyes weren’t angry.
They were resolved.
“I’m not mad,” she said. “I just don’t want to be touched.”
I let go.
She didn’t hesitate.
She walked past me, steps steady, shoulders straight, disappearing back toward the estate without looking back even once.
I stayed where I was.
Watching the smoke fade.
Knowing.... feeling that something between us had quietly, irrevocably broken.
