The Golden Apple He Stole From Me

Under the pitying gaze of the Apollo priests, I tilted my head back and downed the Lethe poison.

Cold liquid burned my throat. The soul-tearing agony of the Tartarus curse vanished instantly.

A gift of the poison. No more pain.

The catch was that I only had three days left to live. Then, stardust.

Leaving the temple, I went straight to Melora's seaside pavilion.

The moment I pushed the door open, my mother’s screaming hit me.

"How long will you keep up this pathetic act, Kressa? You are perfectly fine!" My mother jabbed a finger toward my face, her eyes filled with a disappointment colder than any anger.

"You are a healing priestess, blessed by the gods themselves! You were always our sweet, compassionate child... How could you stoop so low? Trying to steal your sister's life-saving Golden Apple out of pure, ugly jealousy!"

My father added, his voice thick with bitter disappointment: "Kressa, you have always been the pride of this family. We thought you would cherish Melora, guide her as a sister should. Had we known you were so cold to your own kin, perhaps we never should have spoiled you into such arrogance."

A vise squeezed my chest.

The poison had killed my physical pain, but the grief of being ripped apart by my own family still suffocated me.

These were my parents. They’d rather believe Melora needed a century-old Golden Apple for a trivial scorch mark than believe their own daughter was dying from a death curse.

I looked up.

Melora was leaning weakly against the cushions of her giant pearl-shell bed. But where my parents couldn't see, she smirked at me. Vicious and smug.

Before, I would have raged. I would have screamed until my throat bled. I would have ripped my clothes off to show them my rotting soul mark.

But today? I didn't want to lift a finger. Arguing was useless.

The curse was eating my soul; the poison was eating my body. I was just so tired.

Before my father could start yelling again, I spoke.

"Melora wants my Healing Temple. She wants the devotion of my followers. Fine. She can have it all."

Dead silence.

My father froze. My mother’s jaw dropped.

I didn't blame them for being shocked. Melora had coveted my temple for ages. My parents had tried everything—threats, bribes, guilt trips—to make me give up what I'd built with my own mortal hands. I never caved.

But now? I was a dying soul. None of this mattered anymore.

Seeing I was serious, my mother finally smiled. Her shock turned into pure, selfish joy as she stepped forward and patted my head.

"You finally see reason! Melora is naturally divine. She needs that faith to grow. Honestly, Kressa, if you hadn't gotten lucky and married a sea god's heir, that temple would have been hers anyway. Now we can finally rest easy."

Lucky. The word was a slap in the face. I had bled for that temple. To them, it was just luck.

Blank-faced, I pulled a parchment from my sleeve and handed it over.

"Then let her seal it with blood."

Greed flashed in Melora's eyes. She bit her finger and pressed it down hard.

The contract glowed. The golden temple mark peeled off the back of my hand and flew into Melora's forehead.

"Ah, Kressa. I'm so glad you've come to your senses." For the first time in what felt like forever, my father rested a hand on my shoulder, his voice laced with a warm, unmistakable relief. "You're still our good, sensible girl."

I watched their happy little family moment, feeling nothing but a sad sense of irony.

Hilarious. My mother only smiled at me when I was giving up my life for Melora.

But I was curious. When they finally saw Melora's true colors and realized I was gone forever, would they regret it?

That evening, I went back to the Sea God's Palace.

My mate, Zale, and our son, Philon, were by the altar. They were stringing deep-sea pearls into a blessing necklace for Melora.

Maybe the poison made me light on my feet, but they were laughing together, totally ignoring that I was home.

Zale finished the last pearl, turned, and saw me. His smile froze for a second before snapping back into place.

"Kressa? When did you get back?" He set the half-finished necklace aside and strode toward me, his arms opening for a familiar embrace.

I flinched away from his touch.

His hands froze in mid-air, a flicker of hurt in his eyes before he let out a weary sigh. His voice softened. "Are you still angry about the Golden Apple? Kressa, you've always been so resilient. Melora needed it. She would have died. Once she recovers, I'll take you to the Eastern Sea to see your favorite auroras. Alright?"

I stared at the necklace. Every pearl glowed with sea god magic. It was Melora's favorite ocean blue.

It was ironic. I was about to die, and I was just now learning that my husband of five years actually had patience.

He used to call the prayer bracelets I wove him "tacky." Under his influence, Philon grew distant from me, too.

I poured my soul into this palace, and all I got was his chilling neglect.

Before, I would have lost my mind over this.

Now, I just walked past them. I sat in a fancy coral chair and started sorting my magic pouch.

My silence gave him pause. He set the necklace on its velvet cushion and approached me.

He reached for my hand, his touch light, hesitant.

His gaze was filled with a searching uncertainty.

"Kressa, there's something I need to talk to you about."

He pursed his lips, looking awkward. He hesitated, then spoke. "It's about your sister, Melora."

My heart dropped. A ridiculous thought hit me.

His next words were a lightning strike.

"Melora ate the apple, but her soul is still weak. So, I'm planning to marry her temporarily. I'll share our soulmate mark with her to soothe her."