Lorelei German Mythology Novels & Stories

In our tenth year together, the King of the Gods, Aetheon, threw the grandest wedding I had ever seen on the peak of Mount Olympus. And at the ceremony itself, he calmly told me he had cheated on me. "Go on with the rite, or stop it right now. It's your call." He swirled the wine in his cup, bored. He told me that just before the ceremony began, he had sex with a mortal girl. The world went cold around me. I stared up at the king standing high above me. "Do you love her that much?" His brow creased slightly, as if he thought I was making too much of it. "Not really. She's a fragile little mortal, nothing more." "You've just been so proper, so well-behaved these past ten years. Never a flaw I

My husband Hades gave another woman my birthday celebration. Then he gave her my mother’s brooch. Then he let our son call her home. Nympha was the flower spirit who had grown up beside him. The healers said a curse was killing her, and she had only six months left before she disappeared forever. Hades said he only wanted her final days to be free of regret. So I was expected to be generous. Even when our five-year-old son, Eren, curled up beside her at the hearth and whispered that she felt more like home than I did, I still told myself he was only a child. Then one night, I heard him say to Hades, “Nympha is so gentle. So beautiful. I wish Mother could be more like her.” Hades only

In my previous life, I married Apollo, the Sun God, as the Goddess of Wisdom. Only in death did I discover that I was nothing more than a blood supply he had been raising for my mortal stepsister. To keep his powerless stepsister alive on Mount Olympus, he pierced my chest himself, ripped out my divine essence, and forced it into her body, declaring without a shred of remorse, "You're the older sister. Taking care of her is your duty." With my divine essence stripped away, I was too weak to resist. He chained me beneath a blazing sun of his own making and left me to burn alive. Meanwhile, my stepsister walked over my bones in the wedding gown my mother had spent a hundred years weaving befor

I was Apollo’s most devoted follower, the lover he handpicked from a sea of worshippers. With me, he’d always shed his divine arrogance. He was so tender, so attentive. I actually thought he loved me to the bone. Until seven days before our Consort Ceremony, when I used my gift of prophecy to peek into our future together. I expected to see a lifetime of blinding love. Instead, I saw him violently tangled in the sheets with my adopted sister, Cassandra. Wrapped around him, Cassandra giggled. "You're so good to me, my Lord. Thanks to you, I'll finally get my sister's Sight and take her place as High Priestess." And Apollo—my god, my lover—smiled down at her with pure adoration. "Whatever

My father was the God-King, and he loved my mortal mother with all his heart. To help her adapt to life in the divine realm, he even infused his own blood into her, granting her eternal youth and elevating her to the rank of a goddess. Defying the unanimous opposition of all gods, he built a resplendent palace solely for her here in the divine realm, making her the happiest woman across all heavens. Yet he never loved me — his first child, born of him and my mother. As time went by, he visited my mother less and less frequently. Eventually, I passed away. Mother begged him to seek justice for me, but he only replied indifferently, "We shall have many more children." His words crushed every l

My brother and I have a hunting accident. Artemis's curse strikes me.It incinerates my heart from the inside—I need an healing ritual. But my mother, the high priestess of Artemis's temple, summons every available healer… to my brother's chamber. He only has a few scratches, yet she orders a full ritual examination for him while I lie there hollow on the sacrificial stone. I beg her to help me, but she snaps, visibly annoyed, "Can't you stop vying for my attention for once? Your brother almost damaged a sacred bone!" In the end, I die on the altar. But after the news of my death spreads, my mother, who has always despised me, completely loses her mind.

I was an ordinary mortal girl who lived at the foot of Mount Olympus. Caelum, King of the Gods, descended from the heavens for me once, transforming himself into a shower of gold. He took me to the peak of Olympus over every other god’s objection. He built a shrine on the mountain that belonged to me alone, every god on Olympus knew the same truth: I was the only mortal love of Caelum’s endless life. Then I gave birth to our daughter, Nia. The Fates declared her a cursed child whose existence would bring disaster to the gods, and Nia and I were sent back down to the small cottage at the foot of the mountain. Seraphina, Goddess of Flame, said she could help cleanse Nia of the curse, and wit

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

After the War of the Gods, Olympus forged a new pact with the last of the Titans. From then on, the mortal realm was ruled by demigods. Those who carried the blood of the gods within them. Once a century, Olympus held the Sacred Marriage. The twelve ruling gods would choose mortal noblewomen as brides. Their goal: to sire heirs with divine cores. The rule was simple: whoever birthed a demigod first would see her husband crowned the next High Councilor of the Gods. In my past life, I married Deimos, the son of Ares, a man renowned for his fierce devotion. Soon after, I gave him a son—a demigod brimming with raw power. A prophecy declared our boy would one day rule Olympus, and Deimos rode th

On my twentieth birthday, I had to choose a husband before all of Olympus. Everyone thought I would choose Apollo Olympion, the radiant heir of the sun god and the man I had loved for years. In my last life, I did. Because of me, he gained Zeus’s favor, sacred estates, and the right to rise above every divine heir. But after our marriage, he gave his sunlight to Celeste, the dying flower nymph my mother had taken in. When Demeter drove her away, Apollo blamed me. From then on, he hated me. He humiliated me, broke me, and finally let my sacred medicine become slow poison. I died carrying his child, on the night the spring inside me withered. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my twent