Walk With the Shadows [ Percy Jackson OC ]

TWENTY-EIGHT | Ophelia

AT FIRST, OPHELIA SAW LUKE in Alex's tense muscles and furious face as he couldn't stand still on the Kennedy Center Terrace. But as he looked in her eyes when she called his name, she changed her mind. He didn't look like Luke.

Those blue eyes were filled with tears. He masked fear with wrath quite well, but something had set him off and he couldn't hide it. His frantic pacing didn't come from pent up rage. It came from a desperate attempt not to panic.

"Alex," she repeated.

"What?" He said.

Careful, Ophelia. You do not want to see his anger.

She ignored Eris. Reaching out, she took Alex's hand. It felt so warm compared to the chill that always seemed to run through her veins. At first he didn't reciprocate. But he calmed down ever so slightly. Instead of massaging over and over the celestial bronze caduceus on his wrist, his left hand went to rest on his abdomen. Ophelia glanced back up at his face.

He glared at the night sky. When he started speaking, he kept his voice low, seething. But he couldn't keep it there. "Another child of Hermes? Two of the minor gods? This is what happens when you abandon your children! Fuck you!"

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

The quest will end right here, Ophelia. He will damn your brothers and sisters.

"Alex!" Ophelia grabbed his hand tighter, ordering the shadows to obscure them. She didn't know if gods could see through her Underworld magic, but she had to try. "Alex, listen to me. Listen to me."

Surrounded by a blanket of darkness, she could feel just how ragged his breathing was. She grabbed both his hands. Vindication on his wrist provided them a little light and in it, Ophelia looked at his crystalline eyes. Blue behind unshed tears, she tried to figure out what to say.

"Hey, listen to me, Alex. Alex." She took another deep breath when he finally looked back at her. "I have no love for the gods. None. But that cannot matter. Saving the other children is all that matters."

He doesn't get it.

Alex nodded erratically, his grip on her hands tightening even further. For a moment, she couldn't feel anything but the force of a child of the god of athletes squeezing her fingers.

They stood enveloped in silent, cloud like shadows. Finally, Ophelia breathed the question she'd had on her mind since this started. "Alex, what happened?"

"What?" he said.

"What happened? Luke lost a fight with a dragon. Chris wasn't claimed." She took a deep breath, placing her left hand over his shirt where she knew his scar lay. "What happened?" she whispered.

He flinched as she touched the scar. Six, seven inches long across his stomach and abdomen, healed not by ambrosia or nectar but human stitching and medicine, she always wondered but never asked. It was time to ask.