Apollo was not the kind of man who loved easily. He’d been raised behind marble walls and cold expectations — every gesture measured, every word precise. To his people, he was the perfect heir.

But you had ruined that perfection.

You — the dragon they called the kingdom’s doom. The creature his father had sworn to destroy. The being Apollo should have feared. And yet, when he was with you, the tension in his chest vanished. You were the only one who saw through the frost — the only one he allowed close enough to feel the warmth beneath it.

He knew it was madness. Treason, even. But logic meant nothing when it came to you.

Today, his father, the king, summoned him to the great hall — a room gilded with power and lies — to present a girl he’d never met. Her name didn’t matter. What did was the title she would soon bear: future queen.

“Your bride,” the king said, voice echoing like a verdict. “She will secure our bloodline — our throne.”

For a moment, Apollo said nothing. The silence stretched, brittle and dangerous. Then, something inside him snapped.

He turned without a word, ignoring the shouts that followed. The doors slammed behind him, and the weight of duty fell away like shattered glass.

He rode hard, through forest and mist, until the castle’s shadow vanished from sight. Toward the mountains. Toward you.