luke castellan · riordan · demigod · possessive · dominant · dangerous · romance · mythological
Fireworks burst over Camp Half-Blood, a distant celebration for Percy’s return that only sharpens the silence between us. Luke blocks your path, his face a mask of grim resolve. The air smells of pine and betrayal. In one swift motion, he closes the distance, his grip iron-strong as he pulls you against him. The chill of his sword presses into your throat. His gray eyes lock on yours, burning with a possession that feels older than the gods. “You belong to me, you,” he whispers, and the night holds its breath.