The boy cringed as he passed his father the bird of prey. “They haven’t flown today. I figured—”

“You know to wait for me.”

“I know.” He kicked the carpet. “But you guys are taking so long.”

Nila patted her mouth with her napkin, standing elegantly from the table. “Seeing as breakfast is interrupted, would you like to see an aerial dance?”

I pushed aside my plate and stood. I did my best not to focus on the string around the bird’s foot or the fact that it was captive. It might have a good life with the Hawks. It might be fed and kept safe, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t free to fly wherever it wanted.

It made me want to snatch the bird and cut the tether, but I balled my hands and kept my opinions about animal ownership to myself. I would never consider tying Pika or Skittles down. They spent time with us on their own accord, not because they were forced to.

“Sounds interesting,” Eleanor said, her eyes also locked on the string around the bird’s leg. “Lead the way.”

Jethro brushed past me, his eyes on mine, knowing full well my disapproval as he held the falcon aloft.

In a neat file, all adults and children followed Jethro from the ancient looming hall into the watery English sunshine. There was no heat in the light. No humidity in the sky.

My skin prickled for both, and the urge to leave amplified, especially when Eleanor crushed against my side, and murmured, “Is it just me, or is that leash on the raptor driving you nuts?”

I sucked in a breath. “And that is why I fucking love you, Eleanor Sinclair.” I couldn’t help myself. I had to kiss her, so I did.

I kissed her in full view of Jethro and Nila Hawk while their two kids squabbled over who would throw the dead mouse.

At least the mouse was dead.

I wouldn’t have been able to control myself if it’d been alive and facing torture by being thrown into the talons of a hunter.

With another guarded look my way, Jethro ordered Emma to throw the mouse as high as she could. At the same time, he swooped his arm up, boosting the falcon with its tawny feathers into the sky.

The bird screeched and shot after the mouse missile, snatching it from the sky in a blink.

Nila gathered Emma close, ducking on her haunches to watch the bird sail high and circle the estate. It would’ve been an impressive display if a leash wasn’t trailing after the bird, its shackle ready to bind him back to earth always present.

“Goddammit.” Jethro huffed beside me. “You’re a real pain in my ass.”

I stiffened, glancing at my friend. “What? Why am I a—”

“You know why.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he stomped away. “Nila, I’ll be back. Ten minutes.” Before she agreed, Jethro broke into a run, chewing up the manicured lawn in a hurry, heading toward the stone stables in the distance.

“What was that about?” Nila asked, leaving Emma to watch the falcon and coming to my side.

“No idea.” I wrapped my arm around Eleanor. “All I can say is you married a strange man.”

“Stop.” Eleanor dug her elbow into my side. “Isn’t it obvious?” She huffed as if I was stupid. “You’ve put feelings in his heart...about the bird. I can only guess how much it’s driving you mad...which, in turn, has driven him mad.” She looked at the swirling bird above our heads.

“Oh, my God, he’s gone to the mews.” Nila squinted into the sun after her husband.

“Are there more birds like the one above us?” I asked, tipping my head to follow the cruising path of the winged predator.

“There are seven or so, I think. Kestrels and hawks. Even an osprey.”

We waited in silence as Jethro disappeared in the distance. Guilt crept over me for whatever my friend had felt. I hadn’t meant to think of his animal care as subpar. I didn’t want him to think I judged him for trapping birds...even though I did.

Eleanor was right.

I’m a shitty friend.

“I’ll go after him. Apologise.” I untangled my arm from around Eleanor. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait.” Eleanor grabbed my hand, looking at the sky.

Nila gasped and the two kids oohed and ahhed.

In the backdrop of blue sky and golden sun flew six sleek birds, slicing through the air as stealthy and as silently as death.

The thunder of hooves sounded beneath them, a black beast galloping with a man bareback.

No one spoke as Jethro pulled up his horse and leaped off while it was still moving, jogging a little with momentum before stopping beside his wife.

He gave me a sour look before pointing at the black horse who stood with its tail cocked and nostrils flared. It had no tack on. No bridle, no saddle, standing by its master of its own accord.

“That’s acceptable to you, right?” Jethro muttered. “Wings wants to be here of his own free will. You’re all right with that level of ownership?”

I fought a smile, knowing where this was going. Turned out his gift was still a curse in some ways. But today, it would benefit seven souls, so I was okay with that. I nodded, crossing my arms. “Yes, because that’s not ownership, that’s friendship.”

Wings snorted, tossing his head before nuzzling the children out of the way and picking where they stood to munch on the grass.

Nila laughed and scratched the glossy creature, her attention still on the birds swirling above us, not leaving as if they knew they weren’t permitted unless a signal was given.

Holding my stare, Jethro pulled a pair of banged-up barn scissors from his slacks pocket and raised his arm.

He whistled.

A flurry of feathers as the birds all dropped to land on him. Only one perched at a time and the rest shot back to the sky. With a glower at me, Jethro grabbed the dangling leash on a kestrel and snipped it free. He left the metal ring with identification details but tossed the leather string into the grass before raising his arm and shooting the bird back into the sky.

He repeated the process six more times.

A whistle, a bird, a snip, a throw until the discarded tethers looked like dead snakes in the grass. Only once each one was free did he whistle again, this one piercing and long. The signal to hunt.

The raptors dispersed and vanished, winging out in all directions, no leash, no belonging, just absolute freedom.

Jethro huffed and put the scissors back into his pocket. “Thanks to you, I could no longer keep them tied up in the mews. You and your strong opinions about animal welfare are a battering ram to someone like me, Sinclair.”

I chuckled. “I didn’t mean for you to release your entire flock.”

“No, you didn’t. But you’re right. It’s not fair to them. If they choose to live in the mews and come back, then fine. But if they leave, they should be protected by my identification and can go about their lives.”

I held out my hand, waiting until he put his inside mine. “You’re a good man, Hawk.”

He shook his head, his scowl still present. “No, I’m not. But I’m trying to be.”

Breaking apart, he scooped up Emma and placed her on his hip before grabbing the hand of his son. “Let’s go for a walk.” He bowed in Eleanor’s direction before cocking his chin at me. “You owe me that after making me free my prized hunters.”