Free Before by Jessie Harrell Page B

for me; her long, delicate fingers wound through my hair and gently scratched at my scalp.
    The more time we spent together, the more I contemplated taking her back to Olympus with me when my exile was over. The problem was, I wasn’t sure how well a mortal would be received by the rest of the gods. They seemed to like humans well enough as toys, but not necessarily permanent additions in our estate. So where did that leave me?
    Leav e u s ?
    I wasn’t sure, but for the time it didn’t matter. All I knew was that I’d stay with her forever if she asked me.
    But she didn’t.
    Instead, she asked me the one question I was foolish enough to answer. Lying in bed early one morning, before the rays of the sun pried us apart, Lelah nudged my nose with hers.
    “You know, I don’t believe you’re really a deserter. You’re too smart for that. And too perfect.” She ran her hands over my shoulders and pulled me closer. “So who are you really Mr. Mysterious? A diplomat? A prince?”
    When I told her my true name, she laughed. Only this time, it wasn’t tinkling and merry. It was raucous and jarring. Her head tilted back as her chortles escaped up her throat and tangled around me. She must’ve thought I was joking. At the very least, she didn’t believe.
    Didn’t believe in me.
    The more I persisted, the weaker she laughed. The dimmer her eyes grew. In a moment of blind outrage, I ignited my inner light, intending only to show her a spark of my divinity. As my skin began to glow beneath the surface, Lelah scrambled backward in our bed like a crab. Her legs tangled in the sheets and she fell to the floor, shrieking.
    “Sorcerer, get out!”
    Where her eyes used to be awash in love, they were now mired in fear. I wanted to hate her for denying me, sending me into another sort of exile, but the fault was just as much mine. Had I not met her in a country that denies the gods? At a ritual for another religion?
    I was a fool for thinking she’d believe in a concept so foreign to her. I was a fool for not recognizing that she’d never believe in me.
    Her cries didn’t go unnoticed, of course. Lelah’s father burst into the room like a cyclops with a grudge. His meaty hand reached for my neck and I did the only thing left to do. I ran.
    Being younger and faster, I easily out paced him down the hall and burst into the crowded streets of Media. People were everywhere and my eyes watered under the intense sunlight. I hadn’t been outside in weeks and the sudden presence of it was overwhelming. But I couldn’t stop. I ran until I was sure Lelah’s father could never track me down. I ran faster, pushed harder, hoping my heart might actually explode from the exertion. Anything other than have to think about what had just happened.
    Even death sounded better.
    As I wandered through Media in the month that followed, I was able to encase the shattered pieces of my heart in a wall thicker than the one surrounding the bonfire that first night I’d met Lelah. The weeks drifted by in a hazy blur as I drank too much wine and grew weak from the lack of prayers. I recall spending more than one night sleeping under whatever tree was nearest the entrance of the last bar I’d visited. But as I passed the time in a stupor, I quickly realized that my temporary exile was the least of my punishments; it was nothing in comparison to the wrenching pain of lost love.
    The one thought bouncing through my slogging brain with any clarity was that I would never trust again. Never love again. Especially not a mortal. Once my heart was whole, I would never again let it be shattered. For nearly two years, I kept that promise to myself. I found comfort in the arms of various nymphs and women, but I never let myself get attached. Never let down my walls.
    And then came Psyche.
     
     
    If you like what you’ve read, please consider buying DESTINED and finding out what happens to Eros when love goes right.
    Kindl e