Child of the Hunt

by Cecilia Green

Prologue

Percy says he knows what it's like. He says that he wasn't supposed to be born, either, and thus wasn't the most popular for a while either. I say, "Quit talking bull to me."

Nobody knows what it's like. Sure, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades all swore on the River Styx not to have any kids, but really, when has that ever worked out? I mean, am I seriously the only one who notices that gods break those "unbreakable oaths" all the time?

See, that's how I'm different. My parent didn't make any bull-crap River Styx oath. They are defined by this rule: no kids. Not ever. That's why nobody likes me. That's why everyone's trying to kill me. It's because I am seriously a mistake in the universe, and that mistake could mean the utter destruction of every living thing in this reality.

So, no, Percy. You don't know what it's like. No one will ever know what it's like. No one will know what it's like for the hunter to suddenly become the hunted. Not like this, anyway.

This is my story. This is how I came to realize my power, and my curse.