Three Days Before the Styx
Seven years after my cursed exile, Ethan—the man who swore an oath to me on the River Styx—returned to his estate at the foot of Mount Olympus. And he brought his new girl.
The Fates had finally given their verdict: the "Wither" curse on me was incurable.
I had no choice but to return to the mortal realm and wait for my soul to fade.
I only had three days left to live.
When he saw me leaning weakly against the porch pillar, supported by my mother, his lips curled into a cold, ruthless smirk—a smirk that truly belonged to the Lord of the Underworld.
"Well, Elara," his voice was low. "It seems living in the sunlight hasn't exactly made you glow."
I calmly pulled my cashmere shawl tighter.
I needed to hide the black, branch-like veins spreading across my arms from the curse.
"It's nothing. Just caught a chill. My body isn't really listening to me."
He let out a scornful scoff and wrapped his arm around his companion's waist.
"In that case, why don't you be the witness for my mating ceremony with Sierra? Come and see what a real divine couple looks like."
I kept my smile and shook my head.
"No, thanks. I'm going somewhere far away soon. For an eternal date."
With that, I gently patted my mother's arm, signaling her to help me leave.