After Our Daughter Died, the King of the Gods Begged Me Back

I was an ordinary mortal girl who lived at the foot of Mount Olympus.

Caelum, King of the Gods, descended from the heavens for me once, transforming himself into a shower of gold. He took me to the peak of Olympus over every other god’s objection.

He built a shrine on the mountain that belonged to me alone, every god on Olympus knew the same truth: I was the only mortal love of Caelum’s endless life.

Then I gave birth to our daughter, Nia. The Fates declared her a cursed child whose existence would bring disaster to the gods, and Nia and I were sent back down to the small cottage at the foot of the mountain.

Seraphina, Goddess of Flame, said she could help cleanse Nia of the curse, and with Caelum’s quiet consent she came every month and burned my daughter with divine fire.

Nia screamed under that fire, sobbing for me . I ran into the temple to beg Caelum to stop it, and I found him in bed with Seraphina.

The pure, holy Goddess of Flame was moaning beneath him.

They threw me into the depths of Tartarus, where Seraphina handed me over to the Erinyes to be torn apart day after day.

When Nia turned five, they finally let me out, but by then my Nia had been burned to ash.

The day I was gathering her ashes, the message stone in my room suddenly lit up, and a projection flickered out of it: Caelum, as he had been five years ago.

His eyes were full of joy and anticipation, and his voice was so gentle it almost made me believe time had folded back on itself. “Sweetheart, is it a boy or a girl? Did our child inherit my power?”

In the projection his expression shifted, and the smile froze on his face.

That was when the door of my room was pushed open, and the present-day Caelum, five years older than the man in the stone, strode inside.

I turned the message stone around so the Caelum from five years ago could see Nia’s urn with his own eyes.

“It’s a girl,” I said. “But she didn’t live long enough to inherit your power. She was burned to ash.”

In the projection, the younger Caelum looked like he had been struck by his own lightning. His mouth worked open and shut before he finally forced out a pale, brittle smile. “Sweetheart, you’re joking. Tell me you’re joking.”

I shut my eyes, wishing it could have been.

The Caelum behind me, the one who lived in this present, had no idea who I was speaking to, and my silence only made him angrier.

“Didn’t you tell everyone Seraphina burned Nia to ash? Who exactly are you—” He flicked his hand and the message stone tore itself out of my grip, flying straight to him.

He glanced down at the projection, and his voice cut off.

The face inside the stone was five years younger