Every beat ofmy wings was a fight. It wasn’t physical exhaustion trying to drag me down, but the invisible pull I felt for the woman I had left in a field far below. That pull was stronger than gravity, but my wings could overcome this, too. They had to.
She would be safe now. Knowing that was the only reason I could fly away.
I almost asked her to stay in that moment when we faced each other before going into the clearing. I had kissed her to stop the words from tumbling out, knowing that I couldn’t be so selfish. Even ignoring the charm her mother needed, there were too many reasons for me not to ask.
Scarlette deserved a life of laughter. She deserved the freedom to explore the world, not be tied to a node in the forest far from civilization. She’d find a man who knew how to smile and build a life full of laughter, adventure, and joy with him.
I had almost decided Grandmother was right and she might not need—or even want—adventure. In which case, perhaps I could be the man who brought her joy, for though smiling and laughing didn’t come naturally to me, with Scarlette I understood happiness. But experience had taught me caution. Better to send her away now than to wait for her to leave on her own later. The pain would only be worse then.
Even as I had teetered on the edge of taking the risk anyway, I had remembered the huntsman. Gideon wouldn’t give up. If Scarlette stayed in the forest, she’d become a target, a weapon to be used against me. I didn’t fear for myself, but I would not put her at risk.
So, I didn’t ask her to stay. I flew her out of the forest and left her to build a life I could never share.
I had a hunter to thwart, villagers to heal, and charms to make. I had a home and a life that had kept me satisfied for years. It didn’t matter that I had left my heart back in that field with Scarlette; I hadn’t been using it before she appeared on my doorstep either.