Chapter Nine #2
The priestess stepped forward. “Then let it be so. The vows have been given. The mortal shall become immortal. Let the fruit seal this promise.”
Apollo reached for the apple in Geri’s hands. Together, they held it and took a single bite, their lips brushing on the shining skin.
At once, a wave of warmth surged through Geri’s body. Light flared around her, shimmering like the sun caught in a dewdrop. She gasped, feeling her senses heighten even more—the crispness of the breeze, the pulse of magic in the air, the steady thrum of Apollo’s heartbeat beside her.
When the glow faded, Geri blinked, dazed and breathless. Apollo was watching her, awe softening his features.
“Welcome to eternity, my love,” he murmured, drawing her into his arms.
And the gods broke into gentle applause, as Geri—no longer mortal—stood in the embrace of the god of the sun.
The priestess stepped back, bowing low. “Let the goddesses now speak, whose blessings seal the fruit’s magic.”
Hera, majestic in robes of deep peacock blue, stepped forward.
She regarded Geri with sharp, regal eyes before a gentle warmth softened her expression.
“Geri Andersen,” Hera intoned, her voice a low, resonant melody, “you have chosen love, not merely as mortal affection, but as a bond worthy of eternity. May your union be steadfast, as true as the sacred vows spoken this day. May your home, whether on the Upperworld or in Olympus, be filled with harmony, loyalty, and peace.”
She lifted one graceful hand, and faint golden threads of divine light spilled from her fingers, weaving around Geri and Apollo like a silken veil. Geri felt an enveloping sense of strength and calm settle into her chest, as if Hera’s blessing had rooted itself deep inside her.
“I grant you the protection of my favor,” Hera finished, “so that none may sunder what you have chosen and sworn.”
As Hera stepped back, Aphrodite glided forward, the scent of roses and warm sea breeze swirling around her. She was luminous, laughter glimmering in her eyes as she tilted her head, studying Geri as though she were a newly opened bloom.
“My sweet wolf-girl,” Aphrodite purred, eyes sparkling. “Love burns brightly in you—and in him.” She cast Apollo a mischievous wink before continuing. “May your days be filled with passion and joy. May your hearts never grow weary of each other, nor your lips of each other’s name.”
Aphrodite reached out, brushing her fingers lightly across Geri’s cheek. In an instant, Geri felt warmth within her—an effervescent, golden joy bubbling through her veins.
“I bless you with the gift of love that endures not merely the centuries, but each sunrise and sunset. Let the golden apple’s magic feed your bond, so that no shadow may fall between you.”
She withdrew her hand, and a soft cascade of shimmering pink petals drifted from nowhere, settling in Geri’s hair and upon Apollo’s shoulders. The petals glowed briefly before fading into motes of gold.
“And may love,” Aphrodite added, with a wicked grin, “always be the spark that keeps you both coming back for more.”
A ripple of laughter echoed among the gods, light and affectionate. Geri felt heat rush to her cheeks but found herself grinning, leaning into Apollo’s side.
Finally, the priestess lifted her arms. “So are the blessings given. Let the gods bear witness: this union stands favored, protected, and bound for eternity.”
A swell of divine energy pulsed outward, rustling the trees and setting starlight dancing upon the leaves. Geri stood amidst it all, feeling both impossibly small and immeasurably vast—a mortal heart newly immortal, now blessed by goddesses themselves.
Apollo leaned close, his lips brushing her temple. “I love you,” he whispered.
And for Geri, that single truth was the brightest blessing of all.
The shimmering veil of divine magic faded, leaving Geri breathless and new, her senses sharp as silver. Apollo squeezed her hand, and together, they turned toward the archway that led out of the inner garden.
Hand in hand, they stepped through columns wreathed in ivy and golden blooms. As they emerged, sunlight spilled over them in a radiant wave. Beyond the garden gates, the Council of Olympians stood waiting in a semicircle upon a marble terrace overlooking the rolling orchard of the Hesperides.
Geri’s heart thudded as her eyes swept over them—gleaming figures of legend, each a living story, their gazes fixed on her and Apollo. She had never felt so small—and yet, so powerful.
Poseidon, towering and broad-shouldered, his sea-green robes rippling as though in a current only he could feel, stepped forward. His trident glinted as he leaned it casually against his shoulder. His beard, streaked with white like sea foam, framed a grin both formidable and warm.
“Well now,” Poseidon boomed, his voice echoing like surf pounding rocky shores, “if it isn’t our radiant Sun and his newly immortal flame!”
A ripple of laughter and murmurs ran through the gods gathered around them. Geri’s cheeks flushed, but she lifted her chin, unwilling to shy away under their scrutiny.
Poseidon’s grin softened as he turned his attention fully to her. “Geri Andersen,” he said, his tone gentler. “Today, you chose eternity. You proved your courage, your loyalty, and your love. Such traits are precious—even among immortals.”
He spread his hands, the air seeming to shimmer like heat over water.
“And so, by the agreement of this council, we welcome you among us as one of the Twelve. You shall henceforth stand as the new Goddess of the Hunt—protector of wild places, keeper of balance, and champion of those who run free.”
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the circle of immortals. Poseidon continued, “May your keen eyes safeguard the forests and skies. May your spirit run as untamed as the wolves whose song sings in your blood. And may Olympus be ever stronger for your presence among us.”
He stepped closer, his towering presence commanding the space around him, and extended his large hand. Geri placed her smaller one into his, trying to mask the flicker of hesitation.
Poseidon bent his head slightly, his voice low as he murmured, just for her, “Let’s hope your place among us lasts longer than mortal whims. The Twelve can be…particular about who truly belongs.”
She managed a polite smile, but her laugh came out quiet and strained.
Until Apollo wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Then she felt the quiet thrum of their bond pulsing like sun-warm light through her chest, steady and reassuring.
She glanced at him, remembering his vows and the fierce pride in his eyes, and the chill Poseidon left behind dissolved.
A genuine smile curved her lips as happiness bloomed again, certain that whatever storms awaited, she wouldn’t face them alone.
“My wife. My partner. My goddess,” Apollo addressed the crowd. “Thank you, my family, for welcoming her. For welcoming us.”
From the crowd came nods and murmurs of welcome. Hermes offered a playful salute; Athena dipped her head with solemn approval; Dionysus raised a goblet in a silent toast. And above them all, a gentle breeze stirred the orchard trees as if the Hesperides themselves were whispering their approval.
She looked around at the gathering of immortals, her heart pounding with exhilaration and awe. The wolf inside her howled in triumph. She was still Geri Andersen—a girl from Alaska who loved plants and potting soil. But she was also now the Goddess of the Hunt.
The garden burst into music, lyres and pipes sending sparkling notes into the evening air. Lanterns of soft gold floated up among the branches, casting shifting patterns over tables piled high with ambrosia, fruits glistening like jewels, and delicate pastries dusted with stardust sugar.
Geri stood beside Apollo as gods and immortals converged, offering smiles, embraces, and toasts in gleaming goblets. Laughter rippled like sunlight over water, and dancers wove between columns wreathed in roses, their movements trailing ribbons of shimmering light.
She caught glimpses of Hera speaking graciously to Persephone, of Aphrodite raising a glass in her direction, of Hermes stealing a handful of grapes while pretending innocence. Everywhere she turned, there was color and life and music, as though Olympus itself exhaled in celebration.
And through it all, Apollo never let go of her hand. Each time her nerves threatened to return, she felt his warmth anchoring her, reminding her of the vows they’d spoken beneath the golden tree.
At one point, Apollo leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. “So, my goddess—now that you have powers of your own…what’s the very first thing you’d like to do?”
She grinned, barely needing to think. “I want to go to the Upperworld for Artemis’ baby shower. And see my brother. I miss him.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Of all the things a goddess could wish for, that might be the most perfect answer I’ve ever heard.”
As the stars blinked awake overhead, Geri looked around at the gathered immortals, laughter and song filling the air, and felt a surge of belonging. She was Geri—wolf shifter, mortal-born, but she was also something more now—a goddess in her own right.
She thought of everything that had brought her to this moment—the heartbreaks, the loneliness, the feeling of never quite belonging, even among her own kind. She had journeyed through shadows and pain, forced to carve her own path until she found the one being who truly saw her for who she was.
And in finding Apollo, she’d gained far more than a mate. She’d found love that burned steady as the sun, a place among immortals, and a future that stretched into eternity.
The cost had been high, but as she stood amid the music and starlight, Geri knew she would choose it all again—for this happiness, for this life, for the endless days ahead.
The End.
Thanks for reading!