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Camp Half Blood Reads The Son Of Neptune

Half me and half...

"Get your hands off me!" she wrestled against my grip, so I held her even tighter. "Put this on!" I groaned, toiling to keep her in place and wishing again I’d worn the damn gloves. The feel of her warm skin under my arm and palm wasn’t helping my focus. "I'm not taking you home like this!" "You don't tell me what to do!" she snapped, thrashing to break free of my hold as I fumbled with the cloak in my other hand, trying to drape it over her bare shoulders. "I'm not going home! Let me go, I said!" "Did you really think I got you out of there just to let you wander the streets, almost naked, like a lunatic?" That stopped her. "What did you call me?!" "LU-NA-TIC." "You... You…! Take your hands off me, you insolent brute!" Enraged, she yanked her arm too abruptly and lost her balance. I caught her, wrapped her in the cloak, and threw her over my shoulder. "PUT ME DOWN!" She shrieked and flailed, but I ignored her, making my way to the Commander’s house, which, thanks to Braa, was only two streets away. Since the entire population was in the square for the ridiculous festival, no one intervened at the frantic cries of the wild creature. No wonder in the ten years I've known the Commander, I've never heard that he has a daughter. She must’ve been kept locked away. Strangely, she suddenly went still and quiet. Had she grown tired, worried about attracting attention, or finally realized how inappropriate it was to show up at her parents' doorstep in this state? She didn’t seem to care before. With every step, my anxiety grew—she was limp. "Hey!" No answer. Seriously?! "Hey, you!" Nothing. A bad feeling crept over me, so I pulled her off my shoulder and into my arms. Her head fell against my chest—unconscious. "Hey! Hey, you!" I shook her, but she didn’t react. Panic surged through me. Had she fainted? Had I held her too tight? Lifting her more securely, I sprinted toward the Commander's house.
Inemin · 114.2K Views

The ghost of my son

In a peaceful village, nestled in a valley surrounded by forests, lived a little girl named Claire. She had recently moved into an old house with her mother, after her parents had separated. The house, an ancient dwelling full of history, had a melancholic air, but Claire loved it for its tranquility. Deep down, she hoped that this new life would one day ease the pain of the separation. One winter evening, while playing alone in the living room, Claire noticed a pale, translucent figure standing near the window. It was a little boy, perhaps around her age, dressed in clothes from another era, gazing at her with sad eyes. He seemed lost and solemn. As Claire approached him, she felt an odd sense of calm. The figure slowly faded as she reached out to touch him. The next day, Claire searched for clues about this apparition. Through the old papers in the house, she discovered the story of a boy named Jules, who had lived there long before her. He had died in a tragic accident, taken too soon at the age of eight. His parents, overwhelmed by immense grief, had divorced after the loss of their child, unable to bear their shared sorrow. Jules's appearances became more frequent, and Claire began talking to him. She learned that, even in the afterlife, Jules could not find peace. He was troubled by the separation of his parents and could not bring himself to leave this world without trying to reconcile them. Claire understood that the little boy was seeking help, hoping that someone—an ordinary child like herself—could bring his parents back together and heal their broken hearts. Each night, Claire and Jules talked for long hours. She explained her own situation, the pain she felt from not seeing her father as often, the sadness of seeing her mother so lonely. Jules listened attentively while sharing his story and confiding his wish to reunite his parents. He told her, "If only they could love each other again, everything would be fine, Claire. I don’t want to see them separated in the afterlife." Gradually, Claire took the idea seriously. She began talking to her mother about Jules and his appearances, and soon, she had the courage to write a letter to her father, asking him to come back, even just for a moment, so that the family could be together, if only for an instant. One weekend, the miracle happened. Her father, touched by Claire’s letter, agreed to come and spend time with them. Claire felt as though Jules’s presence guided her every step. As the day went on, a strange but powerful sense of harmony filled the house. The tensions eased, and even though Claire’s parents knew they were not meant to be together, a new peace settled between them. That evening, after dinner, Claire found herself alone for a moment in the living room, watching the remnants of Jules’s shadow. He stood there, smiling faintly, his eyes filled with gratitude and happiness. He had not disappeared, but he seemed calmer, as if he had found peace. He gently faded away, before dissolving into the light of the fireplace.
Goods · 861 Views

THE HALF-BLOOD CROWN

Aeliana’s body tensed, every instinct urging her to flee, but her legs refused to obey. The weight of Kaelion’s presence pressed down on her chest, as if the air itself bowed to his will. She clenched her fists, willing herself to stay upright, to meet his gaze with whatever scraps of courage she could muster. She wouldn’t let him see her fear. “Step forward,” Kaelion ordered, his tone smooth but unyielding. Her jaw tightened. The part of her that was human screamed to fight, to run, but there was a faint hum beneath her skin—a whisper of something else. Something fae. It stirred like a forgotten memory, pulling her feet forward against her will. She stopped only a breath away from him, her chin tilted defiantly despite the trembling in her limbs. Up close, the king was even more overwhelming. His features were carved in sharp, perfect lines, his mismatched eyes glinting with an intelligence that saw too much. He wasn’t just cruel; he was calculating. A predator who enjoyed the chase as much as the kill. “What are you?” Kaelion asked, his voice soft but dangerous. He reached out, his claw-tipped fingers brushing the edge of her hood. She flinched, and his lips twitched—a hint of amusement at her reaction. “I’m no one,” she bit out, her voice steadier than she felt. “Just a thief.” “A thief?” he echoed, his fingers catching the edge of the hood. With a single motion, he pushed it back, exposing her face to the moonlight. The murmurs of the onlookers grew louder, their perfect features twisting with disdain. Kaelion’s eyes narrowed, his gaze raking over her. “No one, indeed.” He took a step closer, his presence enveloping her like a dark tide. “And yet… there’s something about you. Something familiar.” Aeliana’s heart pounded as his hand moved, fingers brushing the curve of her jaw. His touch was light, but it burned like fire, sending a shiver down her spine. “I should kill you for your insolence,” Kaelion said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “But there’s a… curiosity to you. A defiance I rarely see.” His lips curled into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “I think I’ll keep you instead.” “Keep me?” Her voice cracked as anger flared, momentarily overriding her fear. “I’m not some pet to be claimed.” Kaelion’s smirk vanished, replaced by a cold, imperious glare. “You misunderstand, little thief. I’m not offering you a choice.” Aeliana’s stomach twisted as he raised his hand, his fingers glowing faintly with dark energy. Before she could react, a pulse of power shot through her, wrapping around her wrists like invisible chains. She stumbled, her knees buckling, but the magic held her upright. “You’ve entered my city, stolen from my people, and dared to defy me,” Kaelion said, his voice echoing with authority. “Your punishment will serve as a lesson to all who think they can do the same.” “And what punishment is that?” she spat, struggling against the bonds. Kaelion leaned in, his face inches from hers. “You’ll serve me,” he said, his voice a low, menacing growl. “Body and soul. Until I decide you’ve earned your freedom.” The crowd gasped, their whispers growing louder as the king straightened. Aeliana’s blood ran cold as she realized the full weight of his words. This wasn’t just about punishment—it was about control. And she was at the mercy of a man who had none. “Take her to the palace,” Kaelion commanded, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’ll decide what to do with her later.” The soldiers moved to obey, and Aeliana felt herself being pulled away, her body still bound by the king’s magic. As they dragged her through the streets, the crowd parted, their beautiful faces filled with a mix of fear and contempt. She clenched her fists, her mind racing. She couldn’t let this be the end. She wouldn’t let herself be another victim of Kaelion’s tyranny. Somewhere deep inside her, the faint hum of power stirred again, stronger this time.
KENNYWROTEIT · 3.5K Views
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