The tumultuous love story between Oskar Vitale, a brooding son of Hades, and Zoë Nightshade, a resolute member of the Hunters of Artemis.
Bound by the sacred oath to forsake romantic love in her commitment to the Hunters of Artemis, Zoë suddenly be...
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If not for the colossal dragon, the garden would have easily been the most enchanting place I had ever seen.
The grass glimmered with the silvery hues of evening light, and the flowers exhibited such vibrant colours that they almost seemed to radiate in the darkness. Polished black marble stepping stones encircled either side of a colossal apple tree, its branches adorned with golden apples that didn't resemble the usual yellow fruits in grocery stores. No, these were genuine golden apples. Their allure was indescribable, and the moment I caught a whiff of their fragrance, I sensed that a single bite would be the most delectable thing I had ever tasted.
"The apples of immortality," Thalia said in awe. "They were Hera's wedding gift from Zeus."
Despite my eagerness to pluck one, the presence of the dragon coiled around the tree restrained me. When I mention a dragon, whatever image you conjure, it's not fearsome enough.
The serpent's body rivalled the thickness of a booster rocket, its scales glinting with a coppery sheen. It possessed more heads than I could count, as if many deadly pythons had melded into one colossal entity. Although it seemed dormant, the heads lay entwined in a sprawling, spaghetti-like mound on the grass, all the eyes sealed shut.
Suddenly, the shadows in front of us stirred.
A hauntingly beautiful melody, akin to voices emanating from the depths of a well, filled the air.
Instinctively, I reached for Xiphos, but Zoe restrained my hand.
Her hand covered mine, the sudden softness contrasting with the almighty shove she had delivered moments ago. The touch was surprisingly tender, a far cry from the usual physical retribution that accompanied my attempts at closeness.
A hint of irony crossed my mind, contemplating the seeming hypocrisy of her willingness to touch me now compared to the aggressive responses she had meted out before. Nevertheless, I couldn't deny the subtle enticement of her touch, even if it was fleeting.
As she withdrew her hand, refocusing her attention on the future, I followed suit.
My hand released the hilt of my dagger, indicating an unspoken trust in Zoe's judgment.
Four figures materialized into view—four young women who bore a striking resemblance to Zoe.
Clad in white Greek chitons, their skin possessed a caramel hue, and their silky black hair cascaded freely around their shoulders.
Much like Zoe, they were stunning and likely posed a considerable threat.
"Sisters," Zoe acknowledged.
"We do not see any sister," one girl said coldly. "We see three half-bloods and a Hunter. All of whom shall soon die."
"You've got it wrong." Percy stepped forward. "Nobody is going to die."
