“That’s it,” Netanel said as he made him sit on a stone bench beneath the tree. “Keep breathing, Cassiel. I’m here.”
He shut his eyes and slowly filled his lungs with more air. His heartbeat slowly steadied, and his hands stopped shaking. The gray skies cleared as the rain stopped. Sunlight streamed through the low-hanging branches dancing in the soft breeze, but he couldn’t feel it.
Hope was for fools.
Wishes and dreams and second chances were only found in stories with happy endings. His story was already written.
But this … there was no fate to blame for this.
It was his doing alone. He placed her hand in another’s. He was the only one to blame.
And damn, did it hurt.
The pain tore open his previous wounds when he had shattered their souls.
Cassiel willed the wet sting in his eyes to dry. He couldn’t afford to be weak now.
“Crying does not make you weak,” Netanel said, taking the spot beside him. “But sitting here sulking does.”
No, he didn’t sulk. He mourned. Dyna turning him away meant he must leave. It was time to continue with his plans and go to Edym to finish what he started. Even if it ended in his death. “There is no reason to follow me anymore. Return to Hilos.”
“Where will you go?”
Cassiel only wanted to fly away. In any direction. He leaned back and looked up at the open sky. He had the urge to disappear so completely in it that he would simply fade into oblivion. No feelings. No memories. Simply gone. To a place no one would ever find him.
“You cannot give up now.” Netanel laid a hand on his shoulder. “You have a long life ahead of you yet to be lived.”
“What good is my life when I have lost the one person I want to share it with?”
Sighing, Netanel said, “I cannot say it will be easy, for I know the weight of that pain well.” Cassiel looked at him somberly. “Dynalya may one day forgive you, Cassiel, but whether she does or not, perhaps in time, you can learn to forgive yourself.”
His chest constricted under a sudden sharp ache, and he shook his head. “I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I cannot.”
“Cassiel—”
“Stop.” He dropped his throbbing head in his hands. “Please.”
Netanel placed a gentle hand on his back, and Cassiel exhaled a trembling breath. The one thing he knew was that there was no forgiveness for what he had done. Living with that guilt was his punishment.
He looked down at his shaking fingers, stained with ink and blood where his nails had dug into his palms. He had held sunshine in his hands. It was gone now, leaving him in the cold dark.
As it had years ago, when he stood in Hermon’s courtyard, watching a pair of white wings fly away.
“Life is like a garden,”Lord Jophiel had told him.“We cultivate what we plant, so be mindful of what seeds you sow.”
Fate must laugh at him now for wishing he had heeded those lessons. It was too late, though. Here lies the result of what he planted.
“The damage is too great to atone for what I’ve done,” Cassiel murmured. “My selfishness cost me everything. I can no longer hold on, regardless of how much it kills me. The only thing I want for her is to find happiness … and it begins with setting her free.”
He had left because he was afraid of losing her.
In the end, he lost her anyway.
But could he go on like this? Could he survive with only the memory of what they had? The thought of leaving her in the arms of another was unbearable. He should forget, but he couldn’t bear to do that either.
