Novel & Cerita A Is For The Apple That He Gave To Me

I’m a mortal priestess, but a Tartarus death curse is killing me. The only cure is a Golden Apple from Olympus, which blooms once a century to purify a soul. But my soulmate—Zale, son of Poseidon—snatched my apple away. He fed it to my sister, Melora, just to heal a minor magical burn. I abandoned my final treatments at the Temple of Apollo. Instead, I drank a vial of Lethe poison, laced with water from the Styx. It silences all pain. The price? In three days, my soul will turn to ash. No afterlife. No reincarnation. In my final three days on earth, I let everything go. I gave my Healing Temple to Melora. My parents, the high priests, smiled in relief. When Zale drew the Blade of Olympus to sever our soulmate bond, I gladly offered my heart's blood. He stroked my cheek and praised my “generosity.” As if I’d finally learned my lesson. I pushed my son, Philon, toward Melora and told him to call her “Mom.” He cheered and threw himself into her arms, crying out that her lullabies were sweeter. I gave up everything. None of them even noticed I was dying. They just looked at me proudly. "Our Kressa has finally learned her place." But I can't help wondering... when I fade into stardust forever, will they even remember me?

I am one of the last of the merfolk, born with the ability to create Mermaid's Pearls. Pearls that can bring the dead back to life. After the werewolf, Kyle, saved me from human hunters, I would have done anything for him. He died nine times expanding his pack’s territory. Each time, my pearl brought him back. The ninth time, I was too weak to even stand. But the first thing he did when he woke up was pull a sexy omega she-wolf into his arms and flirt, "Baby, you smell incredible—not like Althea. Her scent does nothing for me." He glanced at my pale face, annoyed. "Go rest. Get ready for the next time. I'll need you again soon." The next time? He had no idea. There would be no next time. I only had nine pearls. And I'd just given him my last.

After Pierce Emery and I got back together, I started "renting him out." Every time his old flame, Daphne Roach, called him away, I stopped crying and causing scenes like before. I charged by the hour instead. Ten grand an hour during the day. Twenty at night. Triple on holidays. Three months later, my account was up almost two million dollars. Pierce had promised to help me pick a dress for a banquet, but Daphne called him crying, saying she'd sliced her hand while cooking. I didn't even look up. I just held out my phone with the payment screen open. One night, I came down with a brutal fever. While Pierce was driving me to the hospital, his phone rang again. Daphne. He stared at the screen for a long second before answering. Her voice came through shaky and tearful. "Pierce, the thunder's so loud. I can't sleep. Can you come stay with me?" I quietly pulled out an umbrella and told him to let me out at the next intersection. He looked at me like he wanted to explain something, but I just smiled. "Don't forget to transfer the money." The same thing happened again on the day our daughter went in for her routine checkup. Except this time, she was the one asking him for money.

The hospital suddenly called to inform me that the kidney I had been scheduled to receive had been transferred—by my husband—to his first love. I confronted him. He replied casually, "It's just one kidney. Are you really in such a hurry? Daphne needs it more, so let her have it first. You're not going to die anytime soon anyway!" I stood there holding the medical report proving he had uremia, and in that moment, my three-year marriage felt like a joke. Fine. He was right. I wasn't the one who was sick—so what was I rushing for?

She thought she knew love. At eighteen, Eve Monroe gives her virginity to her brother’s best friend. But the man she trusted with her heart is no savior, but a predator. Ian isn’t just ambitious, he’s ruthless. Noah, Eve’s brother, is part of an underground organization that hunts men like Ian. But when Eve learns the truth about Ian and her brother, she’s trapped in the crossfire. Will she stand with Noah, the brother who raised her? Or will she be destroyed by the man she once called her first love? Either way, betrayal runs deeper than blood.

On my son Theo’s birthday, my husband Dashiell brought home his first love, Sabrina. My son was forgotten, I was ignored, and my mother-in-law treated me like a servant. Dashiell, instead of comforting me, declared that because Sabrina was dying of cancer, he would fake a divorce and marry her to fulfill her dying wish. I could no longer endure it—I decided to turn the “fake divorce” into a real one. Dashiell thought he had everything under control, but he underestimated me…

I suffered critical injuries that left me in a persistent vegetative state when I tried to rescue my wife, Regina Livingston, from her abductors. Regina spares no expense, spending millions of dollars to bring in the best medical experts in the country to treat me. She watches over me every single night, never weary of caring for me. Four years into my coma, I overhear a conversation between Richard Sutherland—a man I don't know—and Regina. "You've done all you can, Regina," he says. "You don't owe him anything anymore." Regina remains silent. Then, a young boy, Franklin Sutherland, suddenly asks, "Mommy, why do you always visit this man? Who is he?" I'm instantly shocked. Regina and I don't have a child together. I'm completely bewildered, and just as I try to figure it out, I suddenly wake up from my coma.

On my wedding day, Ethan Westbrook's ex-girlfriend sent word that she was terminally ill. Her dying wish was to wear a wedding dress once in her life. Ethan locked me in the waiting room while he prepared to hold the ceremony with her instead of me to fulfill this wish. I heard his impatient voice through the door as he said to me, "Can't you show some compassion? She's dying. What's wrong with granting her one final wish?" Later, the guy next door who had carried a torch for me for years climbed to the rooftop and begged me to marry him. Ethan stared at me with bloodshot eyes. "Are you really going to throw away our seven-year relationship just for him?" I brushed his hand away. "Should I just let him die? It's only a marriage certificate. Where's your compassion now?"

During a hunting trip, I was mauled by a grizzly bear and rushed to the hospital. Seeing how panicked my boyfriend looked, a playful idea struck me, and I decided to play a little prank on him. “Who are you?” I asked. Toby froze. Just as I was about to laugh and tell him the truth, he suddenly pushed his older brother, Logan, forward. “I’m your boyfriend’s younger brother,” Toby said. The next second, he pulled my best friend, Chloe, into his arms. “And I’m also your best friend’s boyfriend.” My face stiffened. Yet, Logan stepped closer to my bedside. “That’s right. I’m your boyfriend.” I looked at him and smiled. “Okay. Then I’m going home with you.” It was just a boyfriend, after all. If he were defective, I could easily replace him.

During a family dinner, the older relatives smiled and encouraged Dylan Jenkin and me to sit together. But once I sat down, he casually turned away and settled beside my stepsister, Ivy Langford. One of the elders said teasingly, “Aren’t you and Nina joined at the hip? We thought you two might make it official today. Why aren’t you sitting together?” Dylan chuckled and poured Ivy a cup of tea. “Don’t get the wrong idea. Nina and I are just close friends,” he said with calm and casual ease. His gaze swept over me without a hint of affection. Then, he turned to Ivy beside him. His voice grew gentler as he said, “I’ve always liked girls like Ivy.” Laughter echoed around the table, yet a chill settled into my heart. No one knew that we had been secretly dating for three years. After countless nights in each other’s arms, he reassured me that he would tell the family about us once his older brother had a girlfriend. He said they might see his brother as irresponsible and immature if he revealed his relationship first. I finally saw the truth behind those excuses: he simply did not love me. I forced a smile and nodded along with his words. “Yes, we’re just friends.” Dylan exhaled in relief. He was clearly pleased with my response. He had no idea that I was not actually playing along. With those final words, I stopped holding on and gave up on our secret relationship.