Unwanted

Chapter Thirteen

After my conversation with Aphrodite, I was beginning to feel frustrated. My hunters were probably in shock, and feeling betrayed. The entire camp would ridicule me, I knew that for sure. I would never hear the end of it from Apollo or Aphrodite.

And I had no idea what Perseus would feel.

I remembered his expression when he realized his cover was blown. His sea green eyes had widened in shock, then narrowed to slits, burning with anger. His hair was as messy as ever, and a jet black that Hades himself couldn't reach.

Hades.

He'd known all along. It had never occurred to me that he would actually keep the secret of a demigod. Especially a child of one of his brothers.

I grumbled to myself about unpredictable uncles and made my way around Olympus, not once pausing to admire the beauty of the construction of the architecture as I usually did.

"Lady Artemis." A nymph bowed and I nodded my head absentmindedly, pondering over Percy's reaction, the Hunt, and the Campers.

Thalia had known all along. She'd known I liked him from the beginning. Had she told him? Had he known as well?

I had so many questions, and my talk with Aphrodite had only answered a few. She had said it was love, and although I knew it was most likely true, I found it hard to believe that I had fallen in love so quickly.

But there was always that one part of me that was attracted to Perseus, while he was a demigod, and as Anagenniménos. Both times, he had been the only acceptable male, showing respect and loyalty, and not behaving like others of his gender.

Anagenniménos had been who I had fallen for though. He simply gave off an aura of strength and loyalty, along with kindness and comfort. He had treated me with respect, and my hunters. He had made the occasional joke, and was both hilarious and sarcastic.

I couldn't forget his eyes. They were ever changing, just like the sea, and held enormous power. Now that he had been revealed, I felt more drawn to him then ever, and it was quite queer.

He was unique, one of a kind.

He'd been betrayed, by his family, by his friends. He'd been killed by those people. He had been tortured for years, even though he was innocent.

Percy Jackson had been through so much, heartbreak, death, danger, war, prophecies, pranks, abuse, torture, everything you could think of. Yet he was still there, standing strong, although his eyes held the real truth.

Percy Jackson was broken.

His eyes, the ever changing sea green, showed all of his emotions. His eyes were an open book, and his emotions could not be contained.

And I loved him.

I groaned in frustration, having reached my place, and entered, flopping down on the sofa and cradling my head in my hands.

"What have I done?" I said miserably.

"It's what you haven't done, sis." I looked up, and to my left, where a certain blonde teenage was chilling on my couch.

"Apollo. What are you doing in here?" I said suspiciously. He grinned.

"Sister, I can predict the future, and you can too. You must have seen the signs, unless you were to dense to, which usually happens." He smirked. I growled.