“I understand,” Apollo said. “So, tell me what I need to do to convince you all. We will do anything.”
Poseidon glanced at the others, then at Hera and Aphrodite. “I propose this first: Hera and Aphrodite will speak to you and Geri. And then they will report back their findings to the rest of us.”
“What do you want to know? What questions will they ask?”
“That is up to them.” He nodded to the two goddesses. “It is their realm, after all.”
The heaviness of Poseidon’s words, as well as what the road ahead would be like, weighed heavily on Apollo. “I understand. Thank you all, for your time.”
“Now, can we get on with other business?” Poseidon waited for a heartbeat for any objections. “All right then…”
Artemis sauntered back to her seat next to him, then squeezed his hand. “See? I told you it will be okay.”
Unfortunately, he didn’t share his sister’s sunny optimism. “They didn’t say yes.”
“But they didn’t say no, either.” Smirking, she leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ll do great, I know it. I believe in you, Apollo.”
Artemis could be a pain in the ass some–well, a lot of–times, but in this moment, Apollo was glad she used her pushiness to help him. “Thanks, sis.”
Chapter Two
Geri
Geri sat with her spine straight, hands clasped tightly in her lap—well, one hand at least. The other was firmly entwined with Apollo’s, his thumb moving in gentle strokes across her knuckles. It was the only thing keeping her grounded as she sat across from Hera, the former Queen of the Olympian gods.
They were seated in the living room of Geri’s cabin on pack territory, nestled deep in the Alaskan wilderness. The space was warm and solid, much like Geri herself—wood-paneled walls, a stone fireplace with a low-burning fire, and sturdy, lived-in furniture in earth tones. There were no frilly curtains or decorative pillows, just thick wool blankets draped over the couch, and a few old photos of her family lined a simple shelf. The scent of pine from the nearby forest drifted in through a slightly cracked window, mixing with the lingering hint of coffee. It wasn’t elegant or showy, but it was home.
And Hera, regal as ever, sat in a high-backed chair with an expression that could make even the most powerful beings squirm. Her dark curls were pinned back, her gown a shimmering ivory that seemed to catch the light with every breath she took.
Apollo told her what had happened during the council meeting, that the other gods and goddesses hadn’t said yes right away. So now, they were meeting with Hera because she held dominion over both the sanctity of marriage and the golden apple grove itself. As the goddess of marriage, Hera’s blessing was essential for any union involving an immortal transformation, especially one that broke tradition as boldly as theirs. The golden apples of immortality grew only in her sacred grove, tended by divine hands and fiercely protected. Geri and Apollo’s fate rested, quite literally, in Hera’s hands.
Geri tried not to fidget. She had faced danger before—fought it, even—but this was something else entirely. This was Hera, and Hera was not someone you wanted to disappoint.
“I must say,” Hera began, her voice rich and measured, “Artemis’s arguments were persuasive, but I was more impressed by what Apollo said at the council meeting.”
Geri turned slightly, eyes flicking to Apollo. He gave her a reassuring squeeze but didn’t interrupt.
“Though your sister said more words, you spoke with conviction, Apollo,” Hera continued. “Genuine conviction. And for someone I’ve known as long as I have, that’s…rare.” Her tone held a note of teasing, but also a weight of truth.
Apollo chuckled softly, a little sheepish. “I meant every word.”
“I know,” Hera said, her gaze moving back to Geri. “And it wasn’t just your speech that swayed us. Geri, your wolf chose him. That isn’t something we take lightly, nor something thatcan be faked. The bond between a wolf and her mate is ancient—older than even some of the gods.”
“Thank you,” she swallowed hard.
Hera gave a small nod. “It makes sense, then, that you be allowed to eat the golden apple of immortality.”
Geri felt her heart stutter in her chest. She blinked. “Wait…You’re saying—?”
“I cast one vote like any other council member, and remember, the vote must be unanimous,” Hera said, her gaze steady as she folded her hands in her lap. “But I won’t pretend my voice doesn’t carry weight in this matter. The same goes for Aphrodite. What we say has a way of…influencing the others.”
Geri shifted slightly in her seat, her hand still wrapped in Apollo’s. Her heart beat faster, but she didn’t speak—she wasn’t sure she could trust her voice yet.
“But you already have Artemis on your side,” Hera continued, her lips curving into the faintest smile. “And I’ve spoken with Hades. He’s not exactly subtle when it comes to the people he cares about.” Her eyes flicked knowingly to Apollo. “Demeter made her stance clear when she vouched for Geri’s character. And if I’m reading the tea leaves right, you probably have Hestia as well. She likes sincerity. And both of you…are far more sincere than I expected.”
Apollo gave a slight bow of his head. “We meant every word we said.”
Geri felt a surge of warmth in her chest. Hera’s tone wasn’t just diplomatic—it carried a trace of approval. Not easily won, especially from someone as exacting as the goddess in front of them.
