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?

Under the pitying gaze of the Apollo priests, I tilted my head back and downed the Lethe poison.

Cold liquid burned my throat. The soul-tearing agony of the Tartarus curse vanished instantly.

A gift of the poison. No more pain.

The catch was that I only had three days left to live. Then, stardust.

Leaving the temple, I went straight to Melora's seaside pavilion.

The moment I pushed the door open, my mother’s screaming hit me.

"How long will you keep up this pathetic act, Kressa? You are perfectly fine!" My mother jabbed a finger toward my face, her eyes filled with a disappointment colder than any anger.

"You are a healing priestess, blessed by the gods themselves! You were always our sweet, compassionate child... How could you stoop so low? Trying to steal your sister's life-saving Golden Apple out of pure, ugly jealousy!"

My father added, his voice thick with bitter disappointment: "Kressa, you have always been the pride of this family. We thought you would cherish Melora, guide her as a sister should. Had we known you were so cold to your own kin, perhaps we never should have spoiled you into such arrogance."

A vise squeezed my chest.

The poison had killed my physical pain, but the grief of being ripped apart by my own family still suffocated me.

These were my parents. They’d rather believe Melora needed a century-old Golden Apple for a trivial scorch mark than believe their own daughter was dying from a death curse.

I looked up.

Melora was leaning weakly against the cushions of her giant pearl-shell bed. But where my parents couldn't see, she smirked at me. Vicious and smug.

Before, I would have raged. I would have screamed until my throat bled. I would have ripped my clothes off to show them my rotting soul mark.

But today? I didn't want to lift a finger. Arguing was useless.

The curse was eating my soul; the poison was eating my body. I was just so tired.

Before my father could start yelling again, I spoke.

"Melora wants my Healing Temple. She wants the devotion of my followers. Fine. She can have it all."

Dead silence.

My father froze. My mother’s jaw dropped.

I didn't blame them for being shocked. Melora had coveted my temple for ages. My parents had tried everything—threats, bribes, guilt trips—to make me give up what I'd built with my own mortal hands. I never caved.

But now? I was a dying soul. None of this mattered anymore.

Seeing I was serious, my mother finally smiled. Her shock turned into pure, selfish joy as she stepped forward and patted my head.

"You finally see reason! Melora is naturally divine. She needs that faith to grow. Honestly, Kressa, if you hadn't gotten lucky and married a sea god's heir, that temple would have been hers anyway. Now we can finally rest easy."

Lucky. The word was a slap in the face. I had bled for that temple. To them, it was just luck.

Blank-faced, I pulled a parchment from my sleeve and handed it over.

"Then let her seal it with blood."

Greed flashed in Melora's eyes. She bit her finger and pressed it down hard.

The contract glowed. The golden temple mark peeled off the back of my hand and flew into Melora's forehead.

"Ah, Kressa. I'm so glad you've come to your senses." For the first time in what felt like forever, my father rested a hand on my shoulder, his voice laced with a warm, unmistakable relief. "You're still our good, sensible girl."

I watched their happy little family moment, feeling nothing but a sad sense of irony.

Hilarious. My mother only smiled at me when I was giving up my life for Melora.

But I was curious. When they finally saw Melora's true colors and realized I was gone forever, would they regret it?

That evening, I went back to the Sea God's Palace.

My mate, Zale, and our son, Philon, were by the altar. They were stringing deep-sea pearls into a blessing necklace for Melora.

Maybe the poison made me light on my feet, but they were laughing together, totally ignoring that I was home.

Zale finished the last pearl, turned, and saw me. His smile froze for a second before snapping back into place.

"Kressa? When did you get back?" He set the half-finished necklace aside and strode toward me, his arms opening for a familiar embrace.

I flinched away from his touch.

His hands froze in mid-air, a flicker of hurt in his eyes before he let out a weary sigh. His voice softened. "Are you still angry about the Golden Apple? Kressa, you've always been so resilient. Melora needed it. She would have died. Once she recovers, I'll take you to the Eastern Sea to see your favorite auroras. Alright?"

I stared at the necklace. Every pearl glowed with sea god magic. It was Melora's favorite ocean blue.

It was ironic. I was about to die, and I was just now learning that my husband of five years actually had patience.

He used to call the prayer bracelets I wove him "tacky." Under his influence, Philon grew distant from me, too.

I poured my soul into this palace, and all I got was his chilling neglect.

Before, I would have lost my mind over this.

Now, I just walked past them. I sat in a fancy coral chair and started sorting my magic pouch.

My silence gave him pause. He set the necklace on its velvet cushion and approached me.

He reached for my hand, his touch light, hesitant.

His gaze was filled with a searching uncertainty.

"Kressa, there's something I need to talk to you about."

He pursed his lips, looking awkward. He hesitated, then spoke. "It's about your sister, Melora."

My heart dropped. A ridiculous thought hit me.

His next words were a lightning strike.

"Melora ate the apple, but her soul is still weak. So, I'm planning to marry her temporarily. I'll share our soulmate mark with her to soothe her."

My ears rang. I stood there, paralyzed.

A soulmate mark is the ultimate bond. Sharing it meant severing our tie, tearing my soul in half, and shoving it into another woman's body.

For any bonded mate, it was the ultimate humiliation.

Seeing me hesitate, Zale quickly stepped closer.

"Kressa, you know I swore to love you, and only you, for all eternity. This is just a temporary measure, a desperate act to save a life! Melora may not be your sister by blood, but in the eyes of the gods, she is your kin. It's only temporary. Once her divine core is stable, I will be your mate and yours alone. Philon's one and only father."

"Mother, can't you just be generous for once!" Philon had run up at some point, his small hands clamped tightly around Zale's leg as he glared up at me, his brow furrowed in a fierce scowl.

"Aunt Melora is in so much pain! Why can't you just share a little bit of Father's love? Aunt Melora told me that if you would just share a little, she'd stop coughing up blood every day. Why are you so selfish!"

Selfish.

I stared at the child I had risked my life to bring into this world.

Then at the man who had sworn to love me for all eternity.

So this was what it came to. In their eyes, fighting to protect my own husband, my own soul, was selfishness.

But now... it no longer mattered. If Melora wanted it all, then she could have it.

All of it. I was done.

I lifted my head and met Zale's gaze. "Fine. I agree."

A flash of surprise—and something like pity—crossed Zale's eyes. "Really?"

Without missing a beat, he pulled the Blade of Olympus from thin air and offered it to me.

I gave a weak smile. Oh, Zale. You can't even be bothered to hide how desperate you are, can you?

I took the heavy blade. Without a second thought, I slashed my own wrist.

Sacred mate's blood spilled, dripping onto the cold marble floor. The bond shattered.

I watched the soft mark bearing my name on Zale's chest burst into flames. When the light faded, a glowing Siren scale mark took its place.

He and Philon looked so relieved. So proud.

"Kressa, once Melora is stable, we'll restore our bond. Don't worry, I will never betray you!"

Zale dropped his own blood onto the array, sealing the ritual.

He looked at me, sighing, and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Kressa, you're being so much more reasonable now. I know I haven't been perfect. I've neglected your feelings."

"Once Melora is well, Philon and I will make it up to you. The three of us... we'll be happy again, just like before."

"Yeah, Mom!" Philon piped up like a little adult. "You're so nice to Aunt Melora! I'm proud of you!"

Watching them, my heart felt like dead ashes.

I had held onto one last shred of hope for them. Now... whatever. I was ready to fade.

I stood up to head to my bedroom, but a violent wave of dizziness hit me. I blacked out.

Right before the dark took over, I saw Zale's panicked face.

I woke to a bone-deep chill. My eyes fluttered open. I was still on the cold marble floor.

Looking up, I saw Zale and Philon. The father and son were staring down at me, their faces a mixture of concern and utter disappointment.

When I came to, Zale let out a visible sigh of relief, but his brow remained tightly knotted.

"Kressa, can you please stop these dramatics? Do you have any idea how scared I was when you suddenly collapsed?"

"I already told you, didn't I? Though our bond is temporarily severed, I still love you. You don't need to resort to childish fainting spells to test me!"

"See, Father? I told you she was faking it again!" Philon chimed in, a pout on his lips.

"Mother, can't you stop being so immature? You're making us late to bring Aunt Melora her necklace!"

Faking it?

I forced a bitter smile and pushed myself up.

The poison was a beautiful liar. It silenced the curse's agony and froze my body’s decay, all while devouring my life force from within. It painted my cheeks with a rosy, healthy glow for my final three days.

It was working perfectly, apparently.

I forced myself to stand. "My magic was just a little unstable. I'm fine. I'll go to the temple with you. There are domain transfer scrolls that require Melora’s personal seal."

Zale nodded. He didn't look surprised. My parents must have told him already.

At the temple, Melora was in her chambers, admiring the gems the mortals had offered.

"Kressa! You're here!" Melora looked pale, but definitely much better. I didn't miss the arrogant gloating in her eyes.

"Thank you for trusting me with your temple, Kressa. Don't worry, I won't let you down!"

"Exactly, Kressa," my mother beamed. "With Melora as high priestess, you can finally relax at the Sea God's Palace. Isn't that a relief?"

I pulled the last scrolls from my bag. "In that case, I want her to take all my gold and assets, too. Then I won't have to worry about a thing."

The gods and servants in the temple just stared at me.

The air froze.

Everyone stared at me in absolute disbelief.

I was a powerless mortal. I had endured so much scorn and mockery to survive on Olympus, saving up every last coin.

Every priest and servant there knew I'd sacrificed half my life for that wealth and my staff of authority.

And now, I was giving it all to a Siren who had done absolutely nothing.

Zale raised his eyebrows. "Kressa, you..." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but settled for a satisfied nod. "It's not like you to be so selfless."

"Very rare," my father strode forward, snatching the scrolls. His smile was wider than I'd seen it in years. "Kressa," he boomed, "You are finally acting as a High Priestess should. You are finally worthy of our family's name."

Open-minded. Proper.

They used these pretty words to justify robbing me blind.

Looking at them, my stomach churned.

My body betrayed me. A wracking cough tore through me, and I spat a mouthful of dark blood and black ash onto the marble floor.

The signature of the Tartarus death curse. My soul burning to ash.

The hall went quiet for a second.

Zale shot to his feet, his staff clattering to the floor.

He was before me in an instant.

His trembling hands reached out to catch my faltering body. "Kressa! What's wrong? Why are you coughing up blood?!"

My mother cried out, dropping the scroll and rushing to my side, her eyes instantly reddening. "Kressa, don't scare me like this! You're a healing priestess, how can you be this hurt...?"

My father said nothing, but his clenched jaw and the sharp hiss of his breath betrayed his terror.

Seeing the genuine panic and pain in their eyes, a bitter wave washed over me.

So, they could still feel worried for me. They could still feel pain for me.

What a pity.

It was far too late.

Just as Zale's fingertips were about to touch me, Melora let out a piercing shriek.

She slumped weakly onto the throne, clutching her chest and gasping for air. "Sister... if you didn't want to give up the temple, you could have just said so. Why force our hands by using a self-inflicted 'Pity Curse' on yourself? Cough, cough... If it pains you so much, sister... then I don't want the temple..."

At Melora's words, the taut thread of concern in the air snapped.

My mother's outstretched hand froze, and the pain in her eyes was instantly replaced by the rage of betrayal.

She recoiled, pulling her hand back in disgust and taking a sharp step away, covering her nose with a silk handkerchief.

"Kressa, stop playing the victim! To make Melora feel guilty, you'd resort to such a vile curse on yourself? We were all praising you for giving Melora the temple, and you have to ruin it by coughing up blood right now?"

"This pathetic, sickly display of yours... it's wretched!"

Zale's outstretched hand also paused in mid-air. The panic in his eyes faded, replaced by a profound weariness and a chilling cold. "Kressa, you disappoint me beyond words. I almost fell for it. When will you stop this?"

He clung to Melora’s explanation—a self-inflicted 'Pity Curse.'

It was a vile thought, but it was far easier to believe than the terrifying alternative that the black ash suggested.

I wiped the black ash from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand.

Then, I looked at their once-again cold and distant faces, my own gaze as still and empty as a stagnant pool.

These were my last relatives in the world.

"Mother. Father." My voice was soft. Probing. "If one day my soul shatters completely... if I turn to stardust and never come back... will you regret it?"

"Stop talking such nonsense!" my mother snapped, her voice shrill. "You're a Healing Priestess, nourished by a Sea God's magic! How could your soul shatter? You just can't stand seeing Melora happy! You're trying to curse her with talk of death!"

"Yeah, Mom!" Philon was suddenly standing next to Melora, pulling on her sleeve. "Dad protects you with so much magic, and you're still playing the victim. Aunt Melora is the sad one! She's a cursed Siren and she hurts all the time. So what if you gave her your stuff!"

Melora leaned weakly against her throne. She patted Philon's head, her eyes flashing with pure victory.

"Be good, Philon. Don't blame your sister. She's just a little bitter, that's all."

Bitter?

I looked at Philon's face, so much like Zale's. I watched him snuggle happily into Melora's arms.

"Philon," I smiled. It was the most relieved smile I'd had in weeks. "Since you love Aunt Melora so much... from now on, you can call her Mom."

Philon’s eyes went wide. "Really? I can call her Mom?" He launched himself at Melora, burying his face in her silks. "Yay! Mom Melora! You’re so much better than my real mom!"

Zale stood there, watching his happy "family of three," a soft smile touching his eyes.

My parents nodded proudly, as if this were the perfect family reunion.

I just looked at them quietly.

Hearing him say "Mom Melora" burned away the last trace of hope in my heart. Ashes to ashes.

They didn't need me. They didn't care about me.

I closed the temple doors and walked away.

One day left. And nowhere to go.

I’d spent my whole life rushing around, completely on edge. I’d never once stopped to actually look at the mortal world.

I bought a ticket for a mortal ferry. I wanted to see the ocean at night, just once, through human eyes.

I wanted to climb the mortal mountains, but my body just couldn't take it anymore.

Right before I blacked out, I crushed a communication crystal I hadn't touched in five years.

Then everything went dark.