I could not help but smile at the newly budded flowers scattered over the hills of the middleworld. My bare feet sank into the cool grass. Soft, green blades sprang between my toes, reminding me of the many walks my mother and I took together when I was a child.
It had been so many years since she last strolled beside me. So many years since her soul left her body and was carried away by the breeze of the heavens.
I paused beside a tree and lay my hand upon its bark.
I missed my mother’s laughter. Her sparkling green eyes and her sweet voice. No longer a child, I ached for her guidance and advice in the matters of life, and especially love.
A hummingbird buzzed past me and tore me away from my gloomy thoughts. I watched it hover over blooms and feast on the bounty of the nectar in the middleworld, what the humans called Earth. I extended my hand. The tiny bird startled.
“I intend you no harm,” I said softly. It was not only for the mortals, but for the creatures of this realm that I tended to the greenery on which they depended on to survive. I loved them, and wished them nothing but prosperity and joy.
Yet their happiness was a constant reminder of my sorrow, and some days, my heart did not have the will to carry on.
The rhythm of the bird’s rapidly pumping wings soothed my disparity and brought a smile to my lips. I lowered my hand, and the creature vanished from sight.
It was then I noticed the large cat weaving between the jungle’s trees. I smiled and stepped toward the jaguar. “Balam. How nice to see you. It’s been far too long.”
The middleworld deity slinked toward me. One large paw lazily moved in front of the other until he was close enough to touch.
His fur was like silk under my fingers.
“What special occasion brings you?”
Balam did not answer, which was typical for him. Even when in his human form, the middleworld god had never spoken a word. He simply butted his head against my leg and rubbed his body along me. His tail brushed across my belly as he headed into the thick foliage.
I spun just in time to watch Balam vanish into the greenery. There was no use in calling him back. He would wander in the jungle until he found reason to return. When that would be, I couldn’t begin to guess.
I turned back to tending to the middleworld flowers. Spring in the mortals’ realm was my fondest season. It was, after all, the beginning of the season in which I spent the most time with my love, Kinich.
I gathered my hair to one side and wove it into a braid over my shoulder. I willed tiny purple flowers to blossom in my hair. They were Kinich’s favorite color.
My father knew not of our romance, though our love could not be deemed a surprise. I was the tender of flowers and trees for the mortals, and Kinich...
I paused beside a struggling rose bush as the sun warmed my shoulders. My smile widened, and the grass, which I had raised from seedlings, flourished into a thick, green blanket.
A beam of light focused on the bush beside me. The branches bloomed with wild rosebuds.
The sound of light footsteps made my lips burn with anticipation. The warmth of the sun intensified on my back. I took one last moment to admire the blooms before turning to see Kinich standing behind me—golden hair, and eyes that beamed with shades of orange and yellow. He was the keeper of the sun, and in all of his wild glory, fed my flowers and plants in this realm.
He smiled.
My heart jumped.
His gaze wandered to the rose bush. “Your flowers no longer struggle for life.”
I arched my brow and strode toward him. “And you believe you are responsible for giving them life?”
“Perhaps.” He reached out and twisted my braid around his fingers. “Without my light and warmth, your flowers would not bloom.” He allowed my braid to slip out of his gentle grasp.
I tiptoed around him. “And without my attention, the light which you provide would have nothing to nurture.” I walked past him and gave him my back.
“Then I suppose we need each other.” His hands rested on my hips and then rounded my waist. Kinich pulled my back against his chest. My eyes fluttered shut.
His lips grazed the curve of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. “I have no shame in admitting I need you.” He pressed a kiss on my shoulder.
I ran my tongue over my lips, unable to ignore the warmth spreading through my belly.
I had spent countless years roaming the middleworld, watching as the mortals fell in love and embraced their carnal desires. It fascinated me, and my own desire to experience the same pleasure was overwhelming.
I pined to be cradled against his firm body.
I yearned to feel spikes of desire as he kissed a trail down my belly.
Kinich spun me to face him. His gaze found mine, and the heat blazing between us sweltered my skin.
“Kinich...” I rested my hands on his chest. His heart raced beneath my touch—nearly as quickly as mine.
Storm clouds clustered overhead, grey and heavy with rain. I tilted my face toward the sky. A drop fell on my cheek. Then another.
I exhaled, and the heat that wracked my body cooled and dulled. “My father calls.” I stepped away from Kinich.
He tilted his head, watching me with those eyes I longed to be lost in. “When will you allow me to ask your father for your hand?”
“My hand?” I blinked as more raindrops fell over us.
A strike of lightning streaked the sky, followed by a clap of thunder. The earth trembled under my father’s call. I jumped and stared at the looming clouds. “My father searches for me, Kinich.”
“Let him search.” He cradled my face in his hands. “I need you, Ishel. Stay with me, here in the middleworld. We do not have to return to the heavens.”
I swallowed. “But my father is there. You know he cannot roam between realms like we can.”
“That is exactly why we should stay. He will never understand our love.” He pressed his lips against mine, stealing the very breath from my lungs.
Another strike of thunder tore through the air.
I pulled back and stepped away. My chest grew heavy. My throat ached. “My father calls.” I searched Kinich’s eyes, both of us longing for something we could not have. And as long as my father did not know of our romance, there was no hope in it ever being real. I exhaled a long, deep breath, and turned away. “I should go. My father needs me.”
Kinich did not speak a word. I so desperately wanted to break the silence. To say something that would ease our mutual pain. But when I turned to face him, he was no longer there. The only reminiscence of him was the hope that when I told my father of Kinich, he would understand.