Only to the worthy,
And bind their fates as one.”
As the priestess spoke, faint ripples of shimmering power spread across the garden like heat over desert stone. Geri felt it wash over her skin, tingling like the brush of invisible wings. Her pulse thundered in her ears.
“Divine guidance and favor be upon Geri Andersen,” the priestess lifted her staff higher, “who stands at the threshold of fate, and upon Apollo, lord of light, who offers his bond in truth and devotion.”
A soft murmur of approval rose from the gathered immortals, and Geri risked a glance at Apollo, who was watching her with eyes full of fire and tenderness all at once.
The priestess lowered the staff and stepped aside. “Proceed, chosen ones. Enter the garden of destiny.”
She inhaled deeply as she took her first step forward. Apollo mirrored her movement, closing the distance between them until he was able to reach for her hand.
And together, fingers intertwined, they crossed the threshold into the sacred heart of the Garden of Hesperides—where the golden apples gleamed, waiting to decide their fate. The hush followed them deeper into the garden, the marble path giving way to soft moss and flowering vines. The golden apples glowed like captured suns, their perfume sweet and heady in the warm air.
Ahead, a circle of trees rose higher than the rest, their trunks twined with ivy and silver ribbons. The Hesperides stood there, three figures clad in gowns of shifting greens and golds, their hair sparkling with dew. Their eyes glowed like polished amber as they regarded Geri and Apollo.
One of the Hesperides, her voice clear as water flowing over stones, spoke:
“Who seeks the fruit that bridges god and mortal?
Who dares to bind their fates with the power of the golden apple?”
Geri felt Apollo squeeze her hand. She swallowed, then lifted her chin, letting her voice carry. “I do. Geri Andersen, daughter of the wolf pack of Anchorage, stands here by choice. I seek the bond and the path it opens.”
The Hesperides exchanged glances, something like amusement or maybe approval flickering in their eyes. The tallest stepped aside, gesturing gracefully to the tree behind them. Its branches were weighed down with perfect golden apples, each one gleaming as if lit from within.
“Then come, mortal beloved,” the Hesperide intoned. “Choose the fruit that speaks to your soul. Let your heart guide your hand, for this apple will hold the magic of your union.”
She hesitated, breath shallow. She could feel the eyes of gods and immortals upon her, the weight of countless centuries of tradition pressing around her like a velvet cloak.
Apollo leaned close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Don’t be afraid. Trust your instincts. Like you do with your plants.”
A nervous laugh bubbled in her throat. Plants didn’t usually glow or decide her fate. But still…
She stepped forward, leaving Apollo just behind her, and slowly reached out. The apples shimmered like stars, their surfaces swirling with hidden colors. Her fingers hovered over one, then another, feeling subtle warmth radiating from each fruit.
Then, her gaze fell on an apple nestled near the center of the tree. It wasn’t the largest or the brightest, but as she looked at it, a calm certainty settled over her chest. Its glow seemed to pulse gently, as if echoing the rhythm of her own heart.
Without overthinking it, she closed her hand around the apple and plucked it from the branch. A soft chiming sound rippled through the garden as the fruit came free.
The Hesperides smiled, bowing their heads. “The choice has been made. May this apple carry your truth, your bond, and the blessing of Olympus.”
Geri turned back to Apollo, clutching the fruit to her chest. He reached for her free hand, his eyes shining with pride and something deeper—an unspoken promise.
The high priestess stepped forward and raised her hands. “The apple has been chosen. Now let vows be spoken, that the bond may be sealed. Let each bare their heart, and name the path they choose.”
“Geri Andersen,” Apollo said, his eyes searching hers, “from the first moment I saw you, my soul recognized something I could not name. I have seen centuries come and go, but with you, every sunrise feels new. I vow to love you with the constancy of the sun, to warm your days and stand beside you in darkness.”
He lifted one of her hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“I vow to honor your spirit, your strength, and your kindness. And today, I vow to share eternity with you. For in my light, I will carry you beyond mortal years, making you as timeless as the gods.”
Gasps rippled through the assembly as Apollo spoke these final words, the promise unmistakable. Geri felt the air shimmer around her as if Olympus itself was holding its breath.
A high, silvery chime echoed through the trees as the priestess turned to her. “And you, mortal beloved—what is your vow?”
Geri swallowed hard, clutching the apple tighter. Her voice trembled at first, but steadied as she spoke. “Apollo, you brought sunlight into my life even when I thought I didn’t need it. You remind me that love can be patient and fierce at the same time. I vow to stand beside you, no matter the storms, no matter the centuries. To remind you that even gods deserve someone who believes in them.”
