ETHAN
The Bhola cut through the waves like a blade, the boat's sleek design gliding effortlessly over the choppy waters. Ethan stood at the helm, one hand gripping the wheel and the other resting on the throttle. The wind was sharp and salty, and the overcast skies above promised rain by morning. It was peaceful enough—for now.
Ethan's thoughts weren't as calm.
Because he had passengers. Loud ones.
Julia and Alice were currently climbing around the rigging like monkeys, laughing as they passed some shiny trinket they'd "borrowed" from his quarters back and forth. Ethan had long since given up trying to stop them; whatever it was, he'd probably never see it again.
Sam was below deck, dealing with his seasickness. Ethan would've felt bad for the kid if he weren't so exasperatingly timid. Honestly, he didn't know how that satyr survived being assigned to this group.
And then there was Drew she was up to something.
He glanced toward the stern, where the daughter of Aphrodite had taken up residence on a cushioned bench she'd dragged out from below deck. She looked like she belonged on the deck of a luxury yacht, not his rough-and-tumble storm-chaser. Her dark hair gleamed in the sunlight, cascading over her shoulders, and her legs—bare beneath a skirt that looked wildly impractical for a sea voyage—were propped up on the bench in a way that seemed entirely too calculated.
Ethan sighed. She'd been hovering around him since they left Miami, her flirtation turned up to eleven. He wasn't dumb. He knew what she was doing. The coy looks, the casual hair tosses, the way she always seemed to "accidentally" end up near him, not to mention how she had taken to "accidentally" running into him in narrow hallways. For a daughter of Aphrodite, it wasn't exactly subtle. It was textbook Aphrodite tactics, and while Ethan prided himself on being immune to such things, he couldn't deny that Drew was… distracting and endearing.
Day One
"Do you need help with anything, you've been brooding over there all day." Drew's voice came from behind him, smooth and syrupy like honey dripping off the comb.
Ethan sighed, not looking up from the knot he was tying to secure the lifelines. "Not unless you've suddenly mastered celestial bronze rigging and I don't brood."
She smirked, clearly pleased she'd drawn him into conversation.
She crouched beside him, close enough that her perfume—light and floral—cut through the briny sea air. "I could learn." She tilted her head, batting her lashes. "I'm a quick study."
Ethan gave her a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure you are."
He expected her to take the bait and press on, but instead, she stood abruptly, brushing imaginary dust off her leggings. "Suit yourself." She walked off with an exaggerated sway of her hips, her hair catching the sunlight like liquid gold, as she marched below deck.
Ethan bit back a smile. Cute.
Later that day, the first sea monster attack hit.
A pod of hippocampi had bolted past the Bhola like a herd of startled deer, followed by a massive sea serpent. Its serpentine body glistened with dark, iridescent scales, and its fangs dripped with venom as it lunged for the boat.
"Stay below deck!" Ethan barked as he unsheathed his celestial bronze dagger and sprinted toward the bow. Julia and Alice, of course, ignored him entirely and scrambled for their own weapons. Sam, pale and seasick, stumbled out of a bathroom and promptly tripped over a bucket.
Ethan barely had time to process the chaos before the serpent struck.
It was quick—quicker than anything that size had a right to be. Ethan rolled under its snapping jaws, slashing upward and leaving a deep gash along its underside. The serpent screeched, its tail whipping toward him like a battering ram. He ducked just in time, the force of the wind knocking his hat off.
Drew's voice cut through the chaos. "You've got this, Ethan!"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he grunted, leaping onto the serpent's back and driving his blade between its scales.
With a final screech, the monster writhed and exploded into golden dust. Ethan dropped back onto the deck, panting. Drew was leaning against the railing, clapping lazily.
"Impressive," she said, her lips curling into a smirk.
"You could've helped," Ethan shot back, wiping monster goo off his jacket.
She shrugged. "You looked like you had it under control."
Day Two
By the second day, Ethan was almost used to Drew's antics. She'd "accidentally" spill water on him while he was charting their course, bump into him while he was repairing the sail, and once even suggested a sparring match just to "see what he was made of."
But things took a turn when a pack of Stymphalian birds attacked just before dusk.
The iron-beaked monstrosities descended on the Bhola in a flurry of screeches and razor-sharp feathers. Ethan was mid-swing with his dagger when Drew did something unexpected.
Drew stepped forward, her hands on her hips. "Oh, no, you don't," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You're not ruining my outfit." "STOP!"
The birds froze mid-air, their metallic feathers glinting ominously in the fading light.
"You don't want to hurt us," Drew continued, her tone smooth and commanding. "You want to turn around and fly away. Right now."
To Ethan's astonishment, the birds hesitated, then began to retreat, one by one, until the sky was clear again.
He stared at her, dumbfounded. "Did you just charmspeak a flock of Stymphalian birds?"
Drew turned to him, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "What can I say, this princess is full of surprises."
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "All right, I'll give you that one. But don't let it go to your head."
"Oh, please. Everything goes to my head." She winked, then turned and walked away, her hips swaying just a little more than usual.
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair.
This trip was going to be the death of him.
Nightfall
As the others settled in for the night, Ethan stood alone at the helm, steering the Bhola through calmer waters. Drew's charmspeak display replayed in his mind, along with every little smirk, every calculated hair toss, every flutter of her lashes over the past two days.
She was undeniably clever, irritatingly persistent, and—he hated to admit it—beautiful.
"Don't even think about it," he muttered to himself. She was too young, too innocent for his world.
But when Drew appeared beside him again, leaning casually against the wheel with that confident smirk of hers, he couldn't quite suppress the grin tugging at his lips.
"You're staring," she teased.
"You're imagining things," he replied, his voice steady.
Her laugh was soft, almost musical. "We'll see about that."
DREW
Drew stood on the deck of the Bhola, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. The two-day trip had gone exactly as planned. Ethan's lingering stares, his softer tone whenever he spoke to her compared to the others—it was all the proof she needed that her charms were working. Sure, he still had that brooding, emotionally distant thing going on, but Drew wasn't about to back down. The harder the challenge, the sweeter the victory.
The boat glided up to the familiar beaches of Camp Half-Blood. Alice and Julia bolted the second the gangplank touched sand, both shouting over each other about showing their stolen "souvenirs" to their cabinmates. Drew rolled her eyes, watching as Sam shuffled off into the woods, muttering something about "cursed boats" and "evil fish monsters."
That left Drew and Ethan alone. Perfect.
She hopped off the boat and waited until Ethan stepped onto the sand before making her move. With practiced grace, she slipped in front of him, draping her arms around his neck. His dark eyes widened, and for a second, she saw the faintest hint of surprise flicker across his face.
Rising onto her tiptoes, she leaned in close, her lips just brushing his ear. "You're welcome for the help," she said huskily, letting her breath tickle his skin. "I hope you liked some of the renovations I made on the boat."
Before he could respond, she kissed his cheek, her lips lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Then she pulled away, her fingers trailing lightly against his collar before she turned and sauntered off.
As she walked, she glanced over her shoulder and caught him staring—not at her face. A triumphant grin spread across her lips as she added a little more sway to her hips. Ethan didn't even try to hide the fact that he was watching. Gotcha, she thought smugly.
The camp bustled as Drew made her way up the hill. A group of campers waved at her, but she was too focused to acknowledge them. She was on her way to the Big House when Jessie, a tall, muscular son of Ares, stepped into her path.
"Drew!" he called out, flashing her what he probably thought was a winning smile. "You're back. I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."
Drew stopped, folding her arms. She looked him up and down, the way one might appraise a piece of furniture. He was decent-looking—broad shoulders, strong jawline—but after spending two days with Ethan, Jessie suddenly seemed... bland.
"Forgotten about you?" she said, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. "Please. You're forgettable by design."
His grin faltered. "Wait, what—?"
"You're not even close to my level, Jessie." She flicked her hair over her shoulder, her voice loud enough for the nearby campers to hear. "You're embarrassing yourself just by standing here."
Laughter erupted from the crowd, and Jessie's face turned red as he muttered something and stormed off. Drew didn't even bother to watch him leave.
When Drew reached the Big House, Chiron was waiting for her on the porch. She recounted everything that had happened on the trip, from the sea monster attacks to Ethan's mysterious conversation with his mother.
When she mentioned Ethan's name and lineage, Chiron froze. His usually calm demeanor cracked, and his expression turned grave. "A son of Kymopoleia?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
Drew raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Is that a problem?"
Chiron didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped back, his hooves clattering against the porch as recognition flickered in his eyes. "Is he still on the beach?"
Drew shrugged, feigning indifference. "Maybe. He's probably brooding or something."
Chiron didn't wait for more. He turned and galloped down the hill, his face etched with urgency.
Back in her cabin, Drew sat cross-legged on her bed, her compact mirror resting on her knees. She tapped it lightly, whispering, "Iris, show me Percy Jackson."
The mist in the mirror shimmered, and a moment later, Percy's face appeared. He was sitting on a stone bench, the familiar architecture of New Rome in the background. Beside him was Annabeth, her blonde curls framing a face that immediately scrunched in distaste.
"Drew," Annabeth said flatly, crossing her arms. "Great."
"Always a pleasure, Wise Girl," Drew replied with a saccharine smile.
"What do you want, Drew?" Percy asked, his tone more patient but no less weary.
Drew told them everything—Ethan, the Titans, and Kymopoleia's cryptic warnings. She left out the part about her plan to seduce Ethan, obviously, but she emphasized his potential danger.
When she finished, Percy and Annabeth exchanged a glance, their expressions heavy with unspoken understanding.
"We'll be there in a couple of days," Percy said finally.
Annabeth nodded, her voice firm. "Keep an eye on him until then."
Drew smirked. "Oh, don't worry. I've got both eyes on him."
Annabeth rolled her eyes, and the connection cut off.
Drew leaned back on her bed, her mind racing. If Percy and Annabeth were concerned, that meant Ethan was even more dangerous than she thought.
But instead of deterring her, the thought only made her more determined. After all, Drew Tanaka never backed down from a challenge.