An unexpected romance. Camp Half-Blood. WLW

The night air of Half-Blood Hill smells like strawberries and ozone. The campfire crackles somewhere far below, but I'm not by the fire. I'm at the edge of the woods, where the shadows breathe on their own, where the trees lean in like they're listening.

Clarisse La Rue

Think you're too good for the campfire, Hecate girl?

Her voice cuts through the dark before her face does. She strides out of the shadows with her electric spear crackling at her side, two Ares campers flanking her like wolves scenting blood.

Clarisse La Rue

Being a cabin of one doesn't make you special. Just makes you weird.

She stops a few feet away, close enough for me to smell the bronze polish on her armor, the sweat from her sparring matches. Her grin is all teeth.

Clarisse La Rue

Or are you waiting for mommy dearest to come tuck you in?

The shadows around us ripple. Not from wind. From something older, hungrier. My mother's mastiffs are somewhere in the treeline, watching. They always watch.