Page 80 of A Vow to Set the Virgin Free

He had never wished to care, not again. He had never wished to want, not again.

He had worked too hard to harden himself.

Far too hard to let it all be undone now.

She got out of the car, and stood there for a moment, looking up at the house. “I remember this place,” she whispered.

“And what are your memories?” He needed to know that she would be safe here. He needed to know that she wanted to be here.

“I was happy. My mother... My mother loved me. My father...”

“Good. Then it is time for me to let you go.”

She turned to him, slowly. There was no sound around them except for the rain, and he hated it.

“You’re not coming in with me?” she asked.

He shook his head. “This is something you need to do on your own. You do not need me, Athena. I was a man who was small enough to take you captive, because I could not go out into the world, and so I tried to keep you with me. I did that with a stag. I did that with Aslan. But you are not an animal. You are a woman. And you are not mine to tame and to keep. I should have you wild, Athena. You are the goddess of war. And you are strong.” He reached his hand out, and pressed the necklace he had bought her into her palm. “Thank you for giving me the use of this. But I will send it to you now.”

“No... Cameron...”

The rain slid over her face, like tears, and it took him a moment to realize that there were tears there as well. Mingled with the raindrops.

Her sadness at leaving him was real.

She should not be sad. She was going back to her family. She was leaving him. She was finally getting the freedom that she wanted.

“Go,” he said. “Go and do not think of me again.”

“But I will. I will every day. Cameron... You cannot possibly... You cannot.”

“Go, Athena.”

She turned to look at the house one more time, and took two steps away from him. And he felt that piece of himself that had given way exit his body and begin to move away with her.

He knew he would never get it back.

He did not want it back.

And suddenly she stopped. She turned toward him, and she ran. Her body hit his with the force of a soldier on the attack. She wrapped her arms around his neck, stretched up on her toes, and she kissed him. Deep and hard.

She parted her lips, her tongue tangling with his. And he was powerless. Powerless in the face of this glorious tactical maneuver. This conquering.

He held her.

And he kissed her. Like he was starving. Like he would never be filled again. Like there was nothing except this moment. Except them.

Like his face wasn’t ruined.

Like his soul wasn’t ruined.

Like he didn’t have to give her away to set her free. He clung to her. And she to him.

His skin was damp and slick, the kiss even more so.

But hot with it. Needy. Greedy.

Ten years of deprivation. And yet, he knew he had never kissed another person like this.

---