Loving The Traitor (A Luke Castellan Love Story)[BOOK ONE]

Chapter 7 - My Anger Gets the Best of Me

My Anger Gets the Best of Me

The first light of dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, and my thoughts turned to the events of the previous day—the return of a fellow Aphrodite girl from a quest, well, her body did, battered and broken, a casualty of the gods' capricious whims.

Anger surged within me like a tidal wave, threatening to consume me whole as I railed against the injustice of it all. Tears stung my eyes as I screamed into my arms, digging my feet into the sound as the scream echoed across the empty expanse of the lake. And then, just when I thought I couldn't bear it any longer, I felt a hand on my shoulder—Luke, his presence a balm to the raw edges of my soul. He sat beside me, his presence a silent comfort as he wrapped his arms around me in a gesture of solidarity. "We'll get our revenge on the gods," he whispered, his voice fierce with determination. I was about to say something when two half-bloods walked by saying that they couldn't wait to go home for the summer. We stilled for a few minutes, the night the air was heavy with the scent of summer, a tangible reminder of the world beyond the confines of Camp Half-Blood. The gentle lapping of water against the shore provided a soothing backdrop to the turmoil brewing within me I turned to Luke, the frustration evident in his furrowed brow, his eyes dark with anger. "It's not fair," he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. "They get to go home, while we're stuck here, still playing the god's games like pawns on a chessboard." His words echoed in the stillness of the night, a stark reminder of the powerlessness we faced at the hands of the gods. I nodded in silent agreement, the weight of his words settling like a stone in the pit of my stomach.

"We're just tools to them," he continued, his voice rising with each word. "Disposable, replaceable, expendable. I'm sick of it, Elana. I'm sick of being at their mercy."

I nodded, the bitterness tasting like ashes on my tongue. "Maybe we should do something about it," I said, the words slipping from my lips before I could stop them.

He paused, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Maybe we should," he agreed, his tone surprisingly resolute.

I blinked, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. "Wait, what?" I stammered, my heart pounding in my chest.

But he waved off my concern with a dismissive gesture. "Never mind," he said, his voice tinged with weariness. "I'm just tired, Elana. It's been a long couple of days." And with that, he retreated to his cabin, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

I stayed by the lake long into the night, the darkness enveloping me like a cloak as I wrestled with the demons that lurked within my mind. I cursed the gods for their indifference, for the pain and suffering they inflicted upon us with reckless abandon. I longed for a different life, a life free from the constraints of destiny and prophecy, where Luke and I could be nothing more than ordinary teenagers, navigating the complexities of high school without the weight of the world bearing down upon us.