I Broke His Heart to Save Him

I was the one who broke Apollo's heart. He was the golden heir of the Sun, my childhood love, and I pushed him away so hard that I drove him all the way to the frozen wastes beyond the North Wind. He stayed there for eight years.

Now he was back. He had a new nymph goddess by his side, and they were going to hold their sacred divine marriage right here in our polis.

That same week, the temple oracle gave me my final prophecy: I had three months left to live.

When my mother wheeled me outside to see him, Apollo's mouth curled into that cruel, mocking smile I remembered all too well. His dark eyes swept over me from head to toe, taking in the wheelchair, the thinness of my arms, and the ghost-like paleness of my face.

"Well, well," he said, his voice low and sharp. "Eight years and you look like a shade. Can't even stand anymore?"

I tugged my sleeve down, hiding the dark scars—the marks left by years of divine magic failing to save me. I kept my voice steady. "An accident at the altar. A minor divine backlash. It’s nothing."

He let out a short, cold laugh. "Right. Anyway, our divine wedding is coming up. You should be Chloe's bridesmaid."

I smiled back at him. I had gotten good at smiling through pain over the years. "I'm sorry, but I'm leaving soon. Somewhere far away."

I gently patted my mother's hand. She didn't say a word, just gripped the handles of the chair and pushed me back toward the house.

I didn't look back.