Sharp specs of sunlight blurred your vision as you opened your eyes. Grains of sand clung to your skin as you laid on the beach.

What happened..?

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” A voice hummed from above.

Mustering the strength to turn your head, you locked eyes with a man sitting by your side. He was beautiful. Skin so lovely you’d swear Apollo kissed it himself, hair so silky he had to be blessed by Aphrodite.

“I swore you were dead when you washed up on my Isle.” He pushed a strand of your hair off of your face, his expression softening into something you couldn’t quite read.

Who is he…?