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  Also, there was the fact that as kindhearted as Isis was, she was intimidating. Taller than any human woman she’d ever seen, she towered over most of the men. But her stormy eyes and figure would tempt any mortal. Many of them sought her favor by bringing her carved trinkets or jewels. These she accepted with the airs of a goddess and promised to look after their village or their loved ones in exchange.

  But she never encouraged their subtle amorous advances. And any man that proved too bold to be discouraged was sent away. The women who served her made sure those men were banished from her presence, never to press their suit again. Isis by no means ever gave any indication that she was lonely or seeking a companion and yet, as the long years stretched ahead of her, she found she longed for such a thing in the secret places of her heart.

  Once, she confessed as much to her soft-spoken sister, Nephthys, the one person she felt truly knew her. Nephthys not only had a very different, much more approachable demeanor than Isis, but they looked as dissimilar as two beings could, despite having the same parents.

  It wasn’t that Nephthys was ugly. Far from it. She was just small and quiet and so unobtrusive that she was often relegated to the background. But Nephthys was still every inch the goddess. Her long blond hair whispered in the wind like a field of wheat and cascaded nearly to her feet. Delicate silver-tipped delicate wings folded at her back so neatly that they were nearly invisible, and her robin’s-egg-blue eyes were lovely.

  It was comforting being around her, for she loved absolutely and completely. She was never jealous, cruel, or condescending. Her younger sister saw the good in everyone and everything. No one could listen and empathize as well as Nephthys. To Isis, she was the perfect goddess, who never let troublesome emotions distract her from her duties, and was therefore much more capable than Isis often felt.

  Many mortals also disregarded Nephthys, thinking she had no power, but Isis considered her sister’s unseen abilities the most potent of all. When Isis first approached her sister regarding her feelings for a true companion, not about any one person in particular, Nephthys listened. She held Isis’s hand, her blue eyes wide with understanding and rapt with attention. Nephthys confessed that she, too, had such a desire. Then she said something that shocked Isis, something that she had not forgotten since.

  Nephthys leaned forward and said, almost in a whisper, “The stars tell me there is someone meant for you.”

  “Can it be true?” Isis gripped her sister’s hand tightly. “You have seen it?”

  “I have,” Nephthys responded with a tender smile. “There is much happiness in your future.” Then her grin faded slightly.

  “And what of you?” Isis asked, wondering what her sister might have seen to cause her sadness. “Will you be happy?”

  Nephthys sighed faintly. “I will be. Eventually. Unfortunately, trials lie ahead for both of us.”

  “But where there is love, trials may be endured.”

  “You are wise, sister.”

  “As are you,” Isis said.

  Nephthys nodded shyly, acknowledging the compliment as she hugged her sister tightly, causing their wings to flutter.

  Threading her arm through her sister’s, Isis rose, and the two goddesses strode through the garden, Isis begging Nephthys for details. “Now, tell me more about this man who will be my true love.”

  Nephthys laughed and replied, “You know it doesn’t work that way with the stars. I cannot see everything.”

  “Ah, but surely you can tell me something. Is he handsome? Does he have kind eyes? Please tell me he isn’t shorter than I am. Is he . . . mortal?”

  “No. Not mortal,” her evasive sister replied.

  The two sisters shared their secret wishes and dreams until Isis sighed and stopped, a frown crossing her face. She took hold of Nephthys’s shoulder. “Enough of these imaginings, sister,” she said softly. “As much as I would like it to be true, what you say cannot be.”

  “I tell you it will be.”

  “But the edict. How would such a thing be possible? For either of us?”

  Nephthys lifted her head and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. Isis knew she sought unseen answers. When she opened them, she replied, “I do not know. But the stars cannot lie. What I’ve seen will be.” Offering a small smirk, she added, “Trust in the stars, my beautiful sister.”

  And Isis did. She went on with her work, at first having an absolute faith in the things her sister had told her. Decades passed, filled with longing and hope. But the more men she met, the more she wavered. Not one of them—mortal or immortal—caught her eye or made her heart flutter with anticipation. Isis began to despair thinking her sister’s omen had been wrong. That the stars had deceived Nephthys or that, at the very least, she had misunderstood the signs.

  Then one summer night the horns blew, announcing that it was time for the Ennead to gather, a time when all the gods would meet. She hadn’t seen him in over a decade but something had changed between them in the time they’d been apart. When he scooped her up and kissed both of her cheeks it felt . . . different than it once had. The warmth of his body seemed to linger, even though he’d left her to embrace Nephthys.

  She found herself seeking him out all evening long, and attempted to sit next to him. When that space was already occupied, she fixed her eyes upon him and tried to discern what might have happened to him, what changes had been wrought to make her feel as if she was seeing him for the first time.

  Was it the length of his hair? The glow of his skin bronzed by the sun? When he smiled she felt special, as if he were telling her something secretive, somehow meant just for her. When he told stories of his adventures, she wondered if he might be glancing in her direction more frequently than he looked upon the others. By the time the evening festivities were done, Isis knew that the stars had given her the long-awaited gift they’d promised.

  The council adjourned, and the one whose attention she sought stretched and rose to retire. Quickly Isis also stood and asked if she might walk with him. He nodded, bright eyes twinkling as he offered her his arm. Together they walked the long halls of Heliopolis, him asking polite questions as they did. All she could focus on was how her heart raced, and Isis wondered if he could feel the thick beat of her pulse where her wrist rested against his muscular arm.

  When they reached the wing reserved for her when she was in residence at Amun-Ra’s palatial home, he paused and brushed a finger against her cheek. “What is it, Little One?” he asked.

  She grinned nervously at his old nickname for her. She’d been taller than him all through their adolescence and “Little One” had been his way of teasing her, but now he easily stood five inches above her, which was no small feat, even for an immortal. Isis had always bristled when he’d called her that before, but the name felt different now. More like an endearment.

  “I . . .,” she started to say as she gazed up into his eyes. A fluttery feeling set her nerves on edge and her wings shifted softly behind her. “I missed you,” she finally managed to get out.

  He laughed kindly. “I missed you, too.”

  She nodded and lowered her gaze.

  Ducking his head, he tried to gauge her expression. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

  “Yes.” A pause, then, “No.” Isis wrung her hands and her tongue darted out to lick her lips, her mouth suddenly dry.

  He took both her hands in his and gave them a little shake. “Something must truly be upsetting you. I’ve never known the great goddess Isis to act so flustered.”

  Isis opened her mouth but couldn’t speak.

  His gaze narrowed. “Has someone hurt you, Little One?”

  “No. At least, not exactly.”

  “I see. And who is not exactly hurting you?” His eyes had turned cold and flinty, his body rigid. Anger radiated from him.

  “It’s not a person. It’s more of an idea.”

  That gave him pause. “What do you mean?”

  Isis let out a soft sigh, w
ondering how she was going to explain her feelings. Would he reject her outright? Would he be shocked at her boldness? Or might he, perhaps, be wanting the same thing she did?

  She began, “I’ve been thinking about the laws that govern us, and I find one of them in particular difficult to comply with.”

  “Which one?”

  “The one that says we are not allowed to bind ourselves with another, like Nut and Geb did.”

  “Ah.” He let go of Isis’s hands and turned away. With his back straight and stiff, he asked, “So you’ve found someone you can love?”

  “I think so. In truth, I’ve loved him for many years already.”

  “I see.”

  Feeling bold, Isis approached him, opening her wings and wrapping one around him as they stood side by side. She’d often hidden the two of them beneath her gleaming feathers when they were children so they could talk about their plans for mischief making in secret. Now the gesture felt different, new, like she was opening another chapter of her life.

  He sighed and turned toward her, his features hidden in the shadow of her wing. “You know the law only applies to immortals, Isis. So there shouldn’t be a concern regarding you and your newfound love. Tell me then, what mortal should I be congratulating?”

  “I am not in love with a mortal,” Isis said.

  Cocking his head, he clarified, “Then he is immortal?”

  “He is. But it’s complicated.”

  “I would say so, although the lines of the law are blurred regarding certain immortals. Your love might still be possible.”

  “There’s another thing. You see, he doesn’t know how I feel about him yet.”

  “Do you doubt that he returns your affection?” He ran a hand through his hair and mumbled, “That was a stupid question. Of course he returns your affection.” Lifting his eyes to hers, he touched his fingertips to her jaw. “How could he not?” He gave her a small smile and dropped his hand. He sighed. “I suppose he’s handsome.”

  “Incredibly so.”

  “Is he kind to you?”

  “He has always been kind.”

  “And he is worthy of you?”

  “I can think of no one worthier.”

  “Then why doesn’t he know?”

  Isis placed her palm on his shoulder and slid it down the planes of his chest until it covered his heart. “Because he’s been gone for a very long time,” she voiced quietly.

  His brow furrowed and then astonishment ironed out the lines of confusion. “Isis. You cannot mean what you’re saying.”

  “And if I do?”

  After cupping her hand with his, he added, with an almost desperate hiss, “Such a thing is forbidden.”

  “I thought we already talked about that aspect.”

  “Yes, but . . . this is different. Think of the consequences.”

  “And what are the consequences of a life lived without love?”

  He gently removed her hand from his chest and pressed it between his own. “You can’t mean this, Isis. You don’t understand.”

  “I understand loneliness and longing.” She brought her other wing around until they stood in the midst of them. “I understand now that it was always you.” He swallowed, and when she saw the expression of panic on his face, she took a step back. “Do, do you not feel the slightest bit of affection for me, then?”

  In the shadows cast by her wings he took hold of her shoulders and pulled her back. “Isis. Isis, look at me.”

  When she finally did, he said, “The last thing I want to do is hurt you, but we can’t. I can’t. No matter what I feel. No matter how strong our bond. It isn’t allowed.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “You . . . you don’t, then.”

  He held her face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears, and cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry. You don’t know how much I wish . . . Look. You won’t be alone. I’ll always be with you. I promise you.”

  “It won’t be the same.”

  “No, it won’t.”

  “I didn’t know how painful this would be.”

  “Then I’ll stop talking about what I can’t be and tell you what I can be, okay?”

  Isis nodded slightly, tears still spilling down her cheeks.

  “I can be your friend,” he said as he trailed his fingers down a lock of her hair. “I can be your protector.” Hugging her close, he murmured in her ear, “I will be your confidant and secret keeper.” He kissed her wet cheek. “I’ll be your ally.” Moving to her other cheek, he added, “I’ll be your advocate.”

  Touching his forehead to hers, he was about to add something else when she interrupted, “But you won’t be my beloved.”

  He froze and stepped back. She lifted her stormy eyes to his, pinning him in place. “We won’t seek out stolen moments in your garden or laugh together about memories only the two of us share. We won’t tumble in each other’s arms as we roll down a hillside. We won’t discover together what it truly means to devote ourselves entirely to the well-being of one another. Or understand a love so powerful we’re willing to cling to it by our fingertips like Geb and Nut.

  “You won’t comfort me with kisses or soothing caresses when I’m sad or tired. I won’t know that you seek out my face above all others. Or be able to claim you as my own. But worst of all, you won’t hold me in your arms every night as we retire together after a long day, a long decade, or a long century of work. You’re relegating me, us, to a very long life of limited potential, of not knowing, of undiscovering. So I ask you again, my love, are you sure this half-life is what you want?”

  Isis gazed into his troubled eyes and slid her hands around his broad shoulders, threading her fingers together around his neck. Never in her life had she wanted something so badly. Being on the verge of obtaining it, and knowing that it could at any moment be lost to her forever, was a heady, frightening experience—one she’d never had before—and one she wouldn’t trade for anything.

  Shaking his head slightly, he began, “Isis, I want—” but he cut himself off and just looked at her. What Isis saw in the depths of his eyes made her pulse quicken. Their bodies were locked together. His lips were tantalizingly close to hers.

  Held captive by the soft press of her wings against his back and the allure of her lips, he lowered his head to hers and nuzzled her ear, trying desperately to convince himself that he could stop at any time. That he still hadn’t gone so far he couldn’t pull back. But once he’d caught the scent of her hair, caressed the softness of her skin, and felt the supple length of her body against his, he was lost.

  His lips branded a fiery trail from her temple down the curve of her jaw. Isis moaned softly and rocked against him, tilting her head back to grant him access to her throat, closing her eyes to savor the sensation of his lips on her skin. This was what she’d wanted. This was what she craved. A man who would love her wholly and completely. One who would be her companion forever. A man who would share in her sorrow as well as in her joy.

  Slowly, achingly, he made his way from her neck back up the side of her face, and just as she was anticipating his kiss, he drew away. The hands that held her trembled. His jaw was set at a hard angle, his mouth in a grim line.

  Finally, he opened his eyes. They were filled with pain and regret. “I’m sorry, Little One. You don’t know how sorry I am.” With that, he spun and disappeared, leaving a cold emptiness where his body had just been.

  Isis drew her wings around herself, trying to contain the heat of this passionate moment, but it trickled away until she was left with nothing but loss.

  The next morning he was gone.

  It had been a year since she’d seen him, a short time by godly standards, but she’d felt each day of separation as if it were a tiny ache carved into her soul. And now he’d returned, and despite everything that had happened, Isis was more certain than ever that the love she felt was real and true. It was a gift from the stars, not to be refuted or squandered.

  Isis touched down lig
htly on the marble balcony and tucked her wings behind her. She raced through the halls and porticoes, searching but not finding, until at last she discovered him. He stood in a room, alone, his back to her as he glanced through Amun-Ra’s latest list of concerns and duties.

  The sight of him filled her with a strange giddiness coupled with anxiety. She’d waited for him for a long year—the longest one in her memory. And she wouldn’t be denied this moment, this reunion. Isis had tamped down the flames of her love until it smoldered slowly, quietly, like hot embers. But seeing him again stoked the fire, reigniting it until it burned hotly in her breast, threatening to incinerate anything that dared to stand in its way.

  He must not have heard her approach because he didn’t turn, not until she said his name, the name she’d whispered in her dreams.

  Osiris.

  Chapter 2

  Cultivating

  Osiris spun toward her. The papyrus he’d been looking at crackled in his hand from the weight of his fingers tightening around it. “Isis,” he said simply.

  She took a step toward him but he backed up.

  His long legs hit the table, causing it to shift noisily, the grating sound a reflection of the slightly pained expression that crossed his face.

  The glow that had come naturally from the happiness she felt upon seeing him slowly melted along with her hope. Clearing her throat, Isis said, “You’ve returned. Will you be home for long?”

  “No,” he answered, moving away from her and smoothing the wrinkled papers on the table. “My plan is to leave as soon as Amun-Ra approves the new plans I’ve designed.”

  “May I see them?” Isis asked. Her interest was piqued despite the fact that he appeared to be uncomfortable within her presence.

  “Surely the great goddess Isis has better things to do than to muck about in the affairs of mortals.”