The Heartwood oh, adi, don't you know you're still number one?

he heard her out. let each sentence wash over him like waves on the beach—crashing down, the surf spraying up—

let it all hit him like that.

he understood. but in a different way that she did.

they are perfect, he agreed. and you are perfect. but easy, i was never perfect. whatever legacy you think of morningside. . .it's got nothing to do with me. it's all you; it's all them.

he was walking away, detaching himself from her. heading back to dutch, to something he could grasp.

ishara, i love you, aditya said. and because i love you, i know that you deserve far better than me.

he hesitated. he wanted to embrace her then, to show her how much he loved her. to cement his skin forever against hers but—

hadn't he already? within their children?

she deserved better.

i will be with arjun, at his pack in morningsong, adi murmured. please visit.

turn tail, and he was gone—the coward that he was.

she deserved better.