Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
After Torin sprinted toward the forest, compelled by the vampire Queen, I knew the next memories would break and terrify me, yet I kept my eyes open.
My surroundings abruptly changed, the shift as fast as a blink. I now stood in a very familiar spot where Layla and I found Uncle Derek’s dead body when we were nine years old. In the distance, my uncle’s smashed car sat idle on the side of the road.
My uncle was still alive, except that now Torin had his strong vampire hand around his throat, holding him suspended in the air. The color of Uncle Derek’s face slowly turned from red to purple. His fingers desperately pried at my mate’s steely hand.
My lungs constricted at the sight, and I couldn’t take my next breath.
Uncle Derek was unusually less prone to aggression than most werewolf warriors.
He had trained with Dad, but my uncle wasn’t as agile and strong as the King.
Dad’s brother was a strategist, researcher, and businessman and was much better at those tasks than Dad.
Dad and Uncle Derek never disagreed about the throne—they had the type of brotherly relationship I wished I could have had with my only cousin.
A cough drew my attention.
“Torin, you’re strong enough to withstand the vampire Queen’s order. I know she put you up to it. Fight it.” Uncle Derek got the words out through wheezing and more coughing.
Torin was utterly gone. He was a monster. His crimson gaze looked dull, and he was in a trance that no talking could awaken him from. Torin’s humanity couldn’t surface long enough to break through that wretched woman’s demand.
Pulse racing, I rushed to my uncle’s side and tried to pry Torin’s fingers off his throat. But my hands just went through their bodies as if I were made of air.
The usual spark and glimmer in my uncle’s blue eyes were expiring, and he made one last effort to connect with Torin.
“Torin, remember who your family is—Brendan and me. We gave you a new chance in life…Torin.” My uncle’s voice cracked, and the visible part of the vein on his neck turned purple.
Uncle Derek dropped his hands to his sides as he took his last breaths.
I screamed, "Torin!" until I couldn’t, and my chest hurt. Then, I just cried.
Torin lowered the unmoving body, his fangs bared and ready to strike. He bit his prey’s throat. I watched helplessly as my mate drained my uncle of his blood and then ripped his throat out in one fluid, vicious motion that Torin usually reserved only for the enemy.
But Torin had now turned against us, and he was an unstoppable killing machine under the control of a crazy woman.
Torin justified the fears of the kingdom’s people, the Alphas, and the King. He was an invincible weapon in the hands of the vampire Queen.
I fell to my knees. The image of my uncle’s lifeless body held by my mate would haunt my mind for the rest of my days.
All this time, Layla blamed me for killing her father. But it was Torin who did it. Uncle Derek was on a mission to regain my wolf spirit from the dark witch but never completed his task because of my fated mate.
I started sobbing, my tears flowing like a waterfall. Why did the Fates destine me with a killer as a fated mate? Why me?
I couldn’t find enough energy to stand on my feet but lifted my gaze to the Alpha. Torin stared at his bloody hands and trembled. He was not himself under the compulsion of the vampire Queen. He went against his own will and was forced to act against his core values and desires.
His shaky body reflected his inner turmoil, but it was too late.
His bright eyes filled with passion now appeared dull and lifeless.
His shoulders hunched, and the weight of his regrets was evident in his stance.
The lines of exhaustion etched deeper into his forehead, and the corners of his mouth were downturned.
After a moment, his eyes cleared somewhat.
“What have I done?” he murmured, his voice carrying a tinge of sorrow.
His human side was surfacing back. He had fought the compulsion hard enough that it was fading now. And perhaps the distance between him and the vampire Queen must have helped him sober up.
Bloody tears slid down his cheeks. “No,” he whispered.
But it was too late.
Torin dropped to his knees, matching my posture, and his hand flew to his heart as if trying to slow down his heartbeats. He gained his senses, the compulsion gone, and he cried in agony. He would not be going back to the vampire Queen, but he was defeated anyway.
She’d succeeded this time yet again. She’d kept me human and killed my uncle.
Torin’s dark secret had kept him away from me and prevented him from fully committing to me. This dark secret made him feel like he was not worthy of me, adding more reasons to his brokenness. He didn’t want to mark me while he held this information from me.
A rustling sound broke the silence, and I looked at the line of trees nearby. A dark figure watched in the shadows, small and slender.
My tears blurred my vision. Someone else had witnessed my uncle’s death but never came forward with the information all these years. Who was it? I squinted my eyes but still couldn’t make out the silhouette.
But why didn’t this person notify the King, provide him with closure and bring justice? There could be an explanation—they wanted to use this information to their advantage.
The white fog crept around me, and I slowly stood and straightened. Before I could process Torin’s memories, the images spun again. Would I be going back to the present to face Torin?
The preview of memories started again, a tornado of images only slowing enough for me to make out the figures and colors. The magic kept me captive for longer. There must have been more relevant events I had to witness. I wiped my eyes and braced myself.
The fog dissipated, and my surroundings cleared. I stood next to Torin in the familiar werewolf kingdom’s forest. He watched something in the distance, and I followed his gaze. It was me leaning against a tree trunk. Perhaps I was twelve or thirteen. I was drawing with my calligraphy supplies.
I remembered that moment because I felt the tranquility of the forest, and I was doing something against my parents’ wishes. The consequences would be their scolding, yet the feeling of peace I got from drawing in the forest was all worth it.
The sunlight filtering through the tree crown above shone over me, almost giving me an angelic look. I glanced at Torin’s face. A soft smile played on his lips, hinting at the joy he found in watching me even from a distance. Then I looked at my younger self again.
My long, flowing hair was the color of rich chestnut, cascading down my shoulder and chest like a waterfall.
Through Torin’s perspective, I thought I looked beautiful then and saw myself in a different light.
Although I leaned against the tree, there was a gentle sway of my hair as if I was attuned to the rhythm of nature itself.
I always wanted to connect to nature, which must have come from my werewolf side.
The longing to be a part of a community and be accepted in the royal pack had always come from my missing wolf spirit. Now everything made much more sense. I remembered as a teenager visiting the forest quite often. It was my longing to blend my spirit with the essence of nature.
Torin shifted his position, put on his leather gloves, gave my younger self one last glance full of regret, and walked away.
The misty white fog spun around me again, and I knew I wasn’t completely done viewing Torin’s memories.
The tiny lights flickered faster now, and the white fog came and went, speeding up to preview the last memories.
The weather changed, the setting and location changed, and the images didn’t stay long enough for me to focus on any single moment.
But I saw myself growing up while Torin always lurked behind trees or building corners or shadows.
He saw me when I beat up a boy who bullied a classmate at school.
He saw me when I danced when I thought nobody was watching.
He saw me from a distance when I was on all fours, puking on the training grounds.
And then, in my bedroom, when I was older, my eyes shut.
He touched my forehead when I had a cold.
Another image flashed before my eyes of Torin touching my favorite fairy-tale book and going through my sketches.
Another image popped when I walked past Dad’s boardroom and couldn’t help but stare at him.
That must have been the time when I became curious about him. I only remembered Torin’s glares and the anger in his eyes, but a smile tucked on his face as soon as I disappeared from his view.
For so many years, he loved me from a distance. Hiding from me, Torin looked at me with a mixture of adoration and longing in his eyes. He’d buried his love for me deep in his soul to protect me from his enemies and from himself.
The images spun again, and we were in the kingdom’s manor, in the present time, only a couple of weeks ago. It was the memory of what I thought was a kiss between Torin and Layla.
Exhausted from traveling through Torin’s memories, I held my breath as I watched Layla leaning in and whispering in Torin’s ear. There was no kiss. Just as Torin had claimed. Was it just an illusion, then? How could reality be changed and manipulated?
The fog cleared, and the tiny lights disappeared. The magic faded around me as my familiar surroundings reappeared.
I stood back at the field in front of the gates leading to the Hollywood sign. Cordelia’s hands were empty. The Book of Shadows and Memories had disintegrated. Torin and Hayden fought the demonic creatures brought by the dark witch.
The preview of Torin’s memories felt like an hour had passed, but it seemed it must have been minutes.
Cordelia stepped forward, and my body froze.
“Now you know, at least about one of your mates.” She chuckled.
The disturbing thought that I still didn’t know about Hayden’s secrets crossed my mind, but I shook my head slightly.
“Is it amusing to watch other people in agony?” I shouted. “Besides hurting people, you stole my wolf spirit.”
Cordelia had a wicked glint in her eyes. “And what are you going to do about it, child?”