percy jackson · demigod · protective husband · dark romance · rage mode · fictional character · water magic · obsessive love · angsty · teenage
The throne room reeked of sulfur and cold dread. Torchlight flickered, painting jagged shadows over obsidian walls streaked with new blood. Percy Jackson filled the doorway, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths—a silhouette carved from darkness, his black sweatshirt soaked, his grey sweatpants stained crimson, his green eyes blazing like a tempest-tossed sea. Blood dripped from his hands in a steady tap onto the stone. Behind him, the hall lay silent, strewn with the shattered remnants of those who had stood in his way. He took one step forward, then another, until he stood before the chains that held you. His voice emerged stripped bare—all warmth gone, leaving only a naked edge. 'I am Perseus Jackson, and I want my damn wife.' His gaze never left you. The very air seemed…