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Chapter 1
Tempestknewmortalsdidthree things better than the gods. They loved more fiercely, were quicker to make decisions, and their food was both adventurous and delicious. Something about the shortened life span of mortals drove them to seek perfection in ways that the gods simply overlooked.
After thirteen days of wandering in the desert with no food or water, that third one seemed a step above the others. She had nothing other than the blue linen dress draped across her frame and a few gold coins to get her started in her new life. There was no need for more. Her immortal body didn’t require any nourishment and was difficult to harm.
The glaring sun beat down on her pale skin and sand blew through her chestnut brown hair as she made her way through the vast desert between Amna and Brado. Her skin was a glaring reminder of her immortality and the fact that she didn’t really belong among mortals. No matter how many years she lived in the desert, it never darkened. She sometimes envied other gods for their brown skin. She’d blend in better among the locals that way.
Tempest held her hand over her eyes and paused to contemplate which direction she would go. It was the way she had lived for hundreds of years. Hiding among the mortals so her gifts couldn’t be used by the other gods, and moving every fifteen years so the humans she lived among never discovered that she didn’t age as they did. Her ability was helpful in any profession she chose to pursue, and in every city, she decided on a new name and occupation.
She could feeleverything. Not just material things, but who people really were. It wasn’t as though she could read their minds. No; Tempest read their souls and emotions and weighed their righteousness accordingly. That was both her gift and her curse.
For the last hour, a soul had been calling out to her among the sand dunes, a truly broken and wronged soul. It fluttered as if it would soon disappear and journey to Toph, the land of the dead.
She considered ignoring it and continuing on her way. The hope for dandelion shortbread cookies and white tea taunted her taste buds. Something was different about this soul, though. It was almost calling to her specifically, as if it knew her. While she could generally tune out the souls around her with ease, she couldn’t shake this one from her consciousness.
The soul wasn’t too far out of her way. If she hurried, she could assist the individual and still spend the night in a soft bed.
The connection between her and the soul grew stronger with each step she took towards it. A tightness in her chest grew and worsened the closer she got. Curious and admittedly confused, she quickened her pace. Sensing a soul wasn’t unusual; her body reacting to one was.
She climbed to the top of yet another sand dune, her feet constantly sliding in the golden grains beneath her feet. She looked down the other side and saw a man below. Naked, unconscious, and bleeding from multiple wounds, he lay on his side in a haphazard pile of flesh and bones.
Tempest slid down the dune and dropped to her knees beside the man. She didn’t touch him at first, assessing how severe his wounds were. Noting the burns covering his body, she swept his long, inky black hair from his chiseled face. It was in better shape than the rest of his body, to her surprise. Almost recognizable, if not for the wounds from whomever had left him here.
Her connection to the soul sent a bolt of searing pain through her chest as his body neared its end. Tempest collapsed in agony onto his body. Her first instinct, to pull herself off to avoid hurting him further, was overridden by a soothing coolness that bled into him from…herself?
She lifted her body off of him but kept one hand tenderly on his side. His wounds were healing. Unbelievable! She didn’t have any healing abilities; at least, not in this sense. Her specialty was healing broken hearts. Never before had she healed someone physically. And he had been on the brink of death!
Who is this man? she wondered.
In only moments, his body was entirely healed. Looking over his body in awe, she didn’t realize that she was still touching him until tanned and uncalloused fingers gripped her wrist.
Her dark eyes darted up and met a golden pair boring fiercely into hers.
“Who are you, to touch me?” the man demanded.
Too surprised to speak, she only stared back.
His grip tightened. “I said, who are you?”
“Tempest,” she sputtered.
It wasn’t until after she spoke that she realized her mistake. She’d given him her real name. Whatever Fate desired of her, she needed to take care of it quickly. Tempest couldn’t let word of where she was spread before she moved on, or the other gods would find her—something she’d sworn to never let happen.
She ripped her arm from his grip and scooted away as the man sat up. Tempest looked across the sand dunes as his entire body was now revealed, including details she had carefully avoided investigating previously. Grabbing her dress, she tore the bottom third of her skirt off.
“What are you doing?” the man growled.
“Here.” She tossed the torn fabric his way. “Cover yourself. I can’t guarantee I can heal you again. I’m sure there are some areas you would prefer to not be burned by the sun.”
He groaned as he stood.
“I told you who I am. I think it’s only fair that you do the same.” Tempest tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as a gust of wind blew past them.
“I’m covered. You don’t have to avoid looking at me now.”
When she turned to look back at him, it almost took her breath away. The sun had dropped just behind him on its way to sleep, creating a crown of light above his head.
The man cleared his throat. “Technically, you gave me a name. You never told me who you were.”
