Apollo
I knew the moment she stepped through the portal.
Not just knew—felt it. Like the realm itself had stopped breathing.
The wind stilled. The birds quieted. Magic in the ground shivered and surged like it had just been summoned to attention. My pulse matched it—slower, deeper, harder.
And then she was there.
My mate.
The scent hit first.
Warm. Sweet. Living. Like spiced apple and sun-warmed skin, tangled with something distinctly feminine—soft but wild, like clover fields after rain. It wrapped around me in a wave so strong I had to brace my stance, dragging it down into my lungs like it would somehow make me whole.
It didn’t.
It just made me hungry.
Then I saw her.
And everything I thought I’d prepared for—every dream, every instinct, every ancient fragment of prophecy—col
