10. Chapter Ten Torn Between Worlds
Chapter Ten: Torn Between Worlds
Maverick 1556
The sun hung low on the horizon, bathing the landscape and scattered wildflowers in a warm, golden glow while Susannah and I huddled among the trees and bushes, hoping to stay concealed. We sat on a blanket, a small wicker basket between us filled with the remnants of a simple picnic.
The soft rustle of leaves and the distant song of a lark created a peaceful backdrop, but I was on edge. Constantly waiting for a hunter to pounce or a spying family member to step out from behind a tree.
The loose curls of Susannah’s dark hair cascaded around her shoulders, her eyes the color of a twilight sky. She looked every bit the enchanting witch she could be. She’d unintentionally enchanted me, despite my intentions for our tryst to be only temporary. Her slender fingers traced the remnants of a bunch of grapes in her lap, her expression a blend of contentment and underlying sorrow. She wouldn’t admit it, but we both knew our time together could not last.
Leaning back on one arm, I watched her intently, my own heart heavy with sorrow. Usually so full of confidence and mischief, I was left clouded with remorse and concern. I reached out, taking her hand, feeling the familiar warmth of her touch.
“Susannah,” I began, trying to keep my voice soft, but even I could hear the strain and tension. “This time, it really has to be our last day together.”
Susannah’s head snapped up, her pupils dilated, tears welling up instantly. “No, Maverick, you can’t mean that,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. The tears threatened to spill over. “You know I can’t bear to be without you.”
I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment to gather my resolve. “It’s too dangerous, Susannah. For both of us. If your village finds out, they’ll turn on you. And the hunters... they’re always close, always watching. You're my weakness, and I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time.”
“I don’t care about the danger,” she cried, her voice rising in desperation. “I can’t just let you go. Not yet. Please.”
Her tears flowed freely now, and my heart twisted in agony. I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly as she sobbed against my chest. The lavender from her hair and the softness of her embrace felt like home—a home I was being forced to abandon because the damn Seraphim Guard refused to leave me the fuck alone.
“Susannah,” I murmured. “I’m so grateful for the time we’ve spent together, more than you know. But if the hunters find us, they’ll kill you just for being with me. And I’ll have to live with that forever.”
She pulled back slightly, looking up at me with tear-streaked cheeks and trembling lips. “We’ll find a way. We’ll run away together, far from here. They won’t find us. ”
I shook my head, pain etched in my features. “We can’t run forever. They’ll always find us. And I can’t risk your life like that.” The truth was, there was one thing I could do to keep her safe with me forever. I could claim her. We would share my power, and if the hunters ever did catch up to me, she wouldn’t be killed. She’d stay with me. But she would hate Hell worse than I did. At least for me, it was home. I never wanted to go back, but it was familiar. For her, it would be Hell—in every way imaginable. It would be worse than death, and I couldn’t do it to her. So, I never even mentioned that option.
Susannah clutched me so tightly, her eyes fierce despite her tears. “Please, Maverick. Don’t leave me. We’ll figure something out. Just don’t say this is the end.”
I gazed at her, my resolve threatening to crumble under the impact of her desperation. Every fiber of my being screamed to stay with her, to protect her, to keep her. But the logical part knew that our union was a weakness for me, and a straight line to Hell. It was a risk too great to bear.
But searching into her eyes, seeing the depth of her despair and the fire of her spirit, I found it impossible to stay firm and say goodbye. I brushed a tear from her cheek, my thumb lingering on her soft skin.
“Alright,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the breeze. “Not yet. But we have to be careful, Susannah. Promise me you’ll be careful.”
She nodded fervently, a shaky smile breaking through her tears. “I promise.”
We sat there in the fading light, holding each other close, savoring the fleeting moment of peace and possession in a world that seemed determined to tear us apart. The future was dark for us, I knew that, and the dangers ever-present. But for now, in that moment, we had each other, and I had to savor it.