Born To Die

I betray them all

Annabeth's POV

The first thing I notice is the empty space beside me. Isla's not in the room. The soft hum of the ship and the faint crashing of waves against the hull are the only sounds filling the air, and yet... something feels off. I sit up, my hand automatically going to my dagger—old habits die hard.

"Where's Isla?" Percy murmurs beside me, sitting up with a groggy frown. Tyson, still mostly asleep, stirs lightly, but I can already tell his giant cyclops eye is still half-closed.

"She's gone," I say, the weight of it sinking in, my heart racing a little faster. I push the covers off and stand, glancing around the room for any sign of her. "We need to find her."

Percy's already moving, heading for the door. "Let's go, then."

We leave the room quickly, silently moving through the dim-lit corridors of the ship. There's no sign of her. No sign of where she could've gone, but I can feel my nerves starting to spiral. I never liked the feeling of not knowing. Not knowing where someone was, not knowing why they were gone.

The sound of voices floats from ahead, catching our attention. Percy gestures for us to stay quiet. We creep toward the source of the voices, slipping behind the corner just in time to see Luke standing at the far end of the hall, his back turned. Isla's standing in front of him, her arms crossed, talking to him.

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. Luke.

For a moment, I wonder if it's just me imagining it, or if my fear of what could be happening is clouding my judgment. But then I hear his voice—too calm, too smooth—talking to her, and I know.

"He's been hiding out here," Percy mutters under his breath, his voice full of suspicion. "This isn't just a ghost ship... it's Luke's ship. It's where he's been gathering his army."

My stomach turns at the realization. He's been plotting, hiding in plain sight, and I can't stand the thought of him turning Isla against us. Turning her against everything we stand for.

Without thinking, I reach for a dagger, drawing it from my belt, and hold it in my hand. "We need to stop this."

I don't even wait for Percy's response. I step out from behind the corner, my eyes on Isla and Luke. I can't tell what they're talking about, but I can feel my anger rising, my blood boiling.

Isla looks... different. She doesn't look like the same person I used to know. She looks conflicted, torn, like she's listening to something I can't hear. I want to run to her, shake her, tell her she's making a mistake. But I'm too late.

Luke's voice softens, and I can see the way he's standing—protective, possessive. The way he looks at Isla, and for a moment, I can see it clearly. He's manipulating her. He's using her. And it makes me sick to my stomach.

"Isla!" I shout before I can stop myself, my voice echoing off the walls. "Get away from him!"

Isla's eyes snap to mine, and for a split second, I think she might listen. But then I see her expression shift—a flash of confusion, of something darker, and it drives me mad. She doesn't understand.

The rage floods me, and before I can think, I throw my dagger.

It happens in slow motion. The blade flies through the air, but instead of landing where it was supposed to, Isla reaches for it—catching the blade with her bare hand. The blood that pours from her palm is enough to make my heart stop.

"No!" I scream.

Isla stumbles back, dropping the dagger with a shout of pain, but her words cut through everything: "Dammit, Annabeth! He was kissing me, not killing me!"