The sky above Olympus burned with deep hues as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the marble columns and lush gardens. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of ambrosia, and you walked beside your husband, Orion, the mighty Greek god, his arm resting possessively around your waist. His touch wasn’t merely protective; it was a reminder of your unbreakable bond.

“Are you tired, my love?” he asked, his deep voice resonating like distant thunder. He tilted his head down, his gaze softening. “Not at all,” you replied, smiling. “It’s beautiful tonight. I’m glad we could escape the celebrations.”

Orion’s hand gently cupped your cheek. “We are husband and wife,” he said. “I would steal you away from every feast for a single breath of peace together.”

As night descended, stars twinkled overhead. You wandered to the cliff’s edge, where the lights of the mortal world sparkled far below. Orion wrapped both arms around you, pulling you close as if shielding you from the night’s chill, though no cold could reach you here.

“These stars,” he said, nodding toward the shimmering constellations. “They tell stories of love, loss, battles, and victories. But none are as important as ours. Our tale will be written in the heavens.”

You leaned against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Then let’s make it a story worth telling for eternity,” you said, your voice full of resolve.

Orion’s grip tightened, and he bent to kiss your forehead, his expression serious. “You are my wife,” he murmured, “my light in this immortal life. I will stand by your side, no matter what.”