A Bird Trained for Years, Finally Flying Away from the Man Novel – Ethan Crowe was a falconer. And the most meticulously broken ‘hawk’ was his wife of five years, Lena Hartley. “Keep your legs up. If you still can’t get pregnant this time, don’t even think about sleeping for the next three days.” Ethan’s voice carried no emotion. A chill ran down Lena’s spine under his impassive gaze.
He didn’t look at her like she was his wife, but as if she were an insignificant stranger. No, to him, she was probably even worse than that. Lena wanted to force a bitter smile, but she had no strength left. Her trembling arms barely held her up on the bed, and it seemed she could collapse at any moment. Ethan dragged over a chair and sat down. Unhurried, he lit a cigarette.
His eyes lingered on her shaking body for a fleeting second before turning flat again. He blew a smoke ring toward her face. “Lena, why does watching you like this make me feel so damn good?” He leaned back, voice low and cruel. “Tell me, when my parents died under those bear claws, do you think they suffered as much as you do now?” Lena’s lips moved.
Finally, all she could manage was a quiet, “I’m sorry.” She had been married to Ethan for five years—and had been tormented by him for five years. In any argument, she might defend herself, except when it came to his parents. Then, she had only one thing to say. I’m sorry. It all started when she was eighteen. That summer, she had accompanied her parents to Falcon Ridge Mountain to escape the city’s heat.
Ethan’s family had lived there for generations, known for their falconry. That was how the Hartleys and the Crowes met. Lena and Ethan had spent two months together, two bright, fleeting months of youthful affection. On the last day before leaving, she had written him a love letter. But before she could give it to him, screams echoed through the forest. Her parents were calling for help.
Ethan’s father, mother, and grandfather had hidden the two young people in a cabin and grabbed their rifles before rushing into the woods. They never came back. By the time Ethan and Lena found them with flashlights late that night, there were only a few dying bears—and the bodies of Lena’s parents. Ethan’s family members were still breathing, barely.
They held on in the ICU for a week before passing away. At first, Ethan had been gentle. He helped her bury her parents, and in between caring for his own family, he would bring her steamer baskets of homemade biscuits, still warm. When she couldn’t sleep, drowning in guilt, he would hold her and whisper softly, “It was an accident, Lena.” Even on the day his parents died, when she sank to the cold ground in tears, he had slipped a cushion beneath her. “The floor’s cold, Lena,” he’d said.
The kinder he was, the heavier her guilt became. She had even thought of ending her life to atone. Then came the hundredth day after his parents’ deaths. Ethan locked himself in the backyard all night, lighting candles for the dead. Lena sat awake the whole time, listening to his muffled cries through the darkness. After that night, Ethan was no longer the same man.
He left the mountains and spent four years building a name for himself in Ridgefield City. Once he secured his position as the young power of the city, the very first thing he did was drag Lena to City Hall. They got their marriage certificate that day. That very night, he subjected her to relentless torment. “Lena,” he’d said coldly, “you don’t have any family left. So my father, my mother, and my grandfather will be paid for with your child’s life.” She could still see the hatred in his eyes when he said it.
And he had meant every word. He tormented her day and night, stopping just short each time, forcing her to stay upside down after to increase the chance of pregnancy. He made her do it for three minutes, then ten, then half an hour…wearing her down day and night, just as a falconer breaks a hawk’s spirit. Day after day, he wore her down—her body, and whatever love she had left.
In five years of marriage, she had lost two children. Both times, there had been no anesthesia. The more pitiful she looked coming off that operating table, the more satisfied Ethan seemed to be. When Ethan’s cigarette burned to the filter, he crushed it out and glanced at his watch. “Half an hour left. Then you’re done for the day.” “Ethan.” Her voice trembled as she stopped him at the door.
Tears mixed with sweat ran down her face. Her body was utterly exhausted, but her heart felt even heavier. “I don’t want to get pregnant anymore. I don’t want to go through another abortion. Please, just let me go. Let the child go too.” Her voice was barely a whisper, fading into the still air. She had stayed by his side all these years, enduring his torment, out of a sense of debt she felt she must repay. She owed him. She wanted to make amends. And deep