T/W: Mention of abuse
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Chapter 23: All that Glitters
Fighting a giant werewolf was exhausting.
Falling off a cliff? Somehow worse.
For a long moment, Zoe and I just sat there, backs pressed to a tree trunk, letting ourselves breathe. My body ached in ways I didn't even know were possible. Every inch of me felt battered and bruised, but somehow, we were still breathing.
Small victories.
I reached into my jacket and pulled out a square of ambrosia, handing another to Zoe.
"Eat," I muttered.
She accepted it without a word. We chewed in silence, letting the god-food work its magic.
The taste exploded in my mouth instantly — strawberry.
Zoe made a soft sound beside me.
"What's yours taste like?" I asked, voice scratchy.
She smiled faintly. "Loukoumades."
I blinked. "What did you call me?"
Her smile widened just a little.
"It's a Greek dessert. Deep-fried dough soaked in honey syrup. Sweet and warm." She looked away, almost shyly. "My mother used to make them. A long time ago."
I made a mental note: ask Thalia later if she knew what the heck 'loukoumades' were.
Right now, I had bigger things to worry about.
Zoe hugged her knees, looking out into the dark woods.
"I'm worried about the others," she admitted.
"They'll be fine," I said. I forced some confidence into my voice. "They've got a ton of silver weapons. And they got, like, three pairs of functioning eyes between them. They'll handle it."
Zoe huffed a soft laugh at that, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
We sat in silence, the night pressing heavy against us. The kind of silence that demanded to be filled.
After a long while, Zoe spoke.
Her voice was so small, I almost didn't catch it.
"My father used to call me weak."
I turned toward her slightly, but she didn't look at me. Her gaze stayed fixed on some distant memory, far away from this forest.
"I was never enough for him. Not like my brother." She squeezed her arms tighter around her knees. "He said I didn't have the heart for greatness. That I was soft. A nuisance."
The words fell from her mouth like stones, heavy and sharp.
"He wanted loyalty. Ruthlessness. Someone who would turn his enemies into gold without hesitation." She gave a bitter laugh. "My brother had that. I didn't."
Her voice cracked a little at the edges.
"I thought... maybe if I fought harder, proved myself, he'd see me differently. But it didn't matter. I was already broken in his eyes."
I swallowed hard.
There wasn't anything good to say.
Zoe wiped at her cheek angrily, like she hated the fact she was crying at all.
"He said I would never survive without them. That the world would eat me alive." Her fingers dug into the dirt. "Maybe he was right."
"He wasn't," I said, finally finding my voice.
She looked at me, startled.
"You're here," I said simply. "You survived him. You survived Orion. You're stronger than he ever gave you credit for."
Her eyes shimmered in the moonlight.
But she didn't argue.
I shifted, pulling my knees up. I blinked a few times. Still can't believe I have regained both visions.
A long beat of quiet passed before I said, "Hey. Thanks. For... you know. Healing my eye."
Zoe glanced at me, then looked down, embarrassed.
"You would've done the same."
"I'm not really sure how I would've done it, but I get what you mean"
She traced a pattern in the dirt with her finger. "Can I ask... how you really lost it? Your eye, I mean."
I hesitated, then nodded.
"It was a quest," I said slowly. "Me and Thalia. A few weeks ago. Lady Artemis was missing — captured by Orion."
Zoe's hands tightened into fists at the name. I didn't blame her.
"We tracked him to NYC," I continued. "Finally found him holed up beneath the statue of Liberty. There was a fight. I thought I could dodge his arrow." I shook my head. "I was wrong. He shot me. Right through the eye."
Zoe winced, her whole body flinching at the thought.
"Not even Apollo could fix it," I said quietly. "It's like his arrow was... enchanted. Cursed. I think Orion laced the arrow with something." I shrugged, pretending it didn't matter anymore. "Whatever it was, it stuck."
For a long moment, Zoe said nothing.
Then, in a whisper:
"Maybe... maybe he used my blood for that, too."
Her voice cracked on the words.
I turned to her sharply. "Zoe, no. That's not your fault."
"But if he did—"
"It's not your fault," I said again, firmer this time. "You didn't choose any of this."
She looked unconvinced, but didn't argue.
Maybe she just didn't have the strength.
Neither did I.
I leaned back against the tree and stared up at the sky, watching the stars scatter across the black.
The cool air filled my lungs.
For some reason, the memories came pouring out before I could stop them.
"I used to live with a foster family," I said. "Big house. Six kids. My foster dad, Mr. Ramirez, he was... good. One of the good ones."
Zoe tilted her head, listening carefully.
"He was old. Sixty when he decided to take in foster kids. Most people thought he was crazy. But he didn't care. Every Friday night, we had movie night. Cheap pizza, old DVDs. It wasn't perfect, but it felt like home."
A smile tugged at my lips, unbidden.
Felt weird. Smiling.
"He helped me a lot," I said. "I was a mess in school. Couldn't focus. Always zoning out, daydreaming. He signed me up for archery class to help me concentrate." I gave a soft, breathless laugh. "Guess it stuck."
Zoe smiled faintly.
"But he had a real son, too," I added. "Andrew."
Her face grew wary, sensing the shift.
"Tall guy. Buzzcut. Scorpion tattoo on his neck. Real charmer." I snorted. "He hated us. Thought we stole his dad's attention, his money. Only showed up for holidays — just long enough to start fights."
I rubbed my hands together, trying to bleed off some of the old anger.
"When Mr. Ramirez died... Andrew got everything. The house. The kids. The government checks." My jaw clenched. "He turned into a tyrant. Treated us like dirt. Barely fed us. Made us work for him. Beat us if we talked back."
Zoe's hands tightened in her lap.
"But it wasn't enough. He got greedy. Got into debt with the wrong people — cartels, I think." My voice dropped. "I didn't know any of that at the time. I just knew I had to get out. Report him. Save my siblings."
I swallowed hard.
"I ran away one night. Found a police station. Took hours just to convince them to listen to me. Paperwork. Procedures. Delays." I shook my head. "By the time I came back with help..."
I trailed off.
The words were too heavy.
"They were gone," I said finally. "The whole house. Empty. Like they'd vanished."
Zoe pressed a hand to her mouth, horrified.
"Later, they figured it out. Andrew sold them. As collateral. He panicked when he realized I was missing and rushed the deal." I laughed bitterly. "Authorities still haven't found them. Years later."
Tears blurred my vision.
I didn't wipe them away.
"I was put back into the system," I said. "Lasted about two months before I bailed. Couldn't take the guilt. Couldn't sleep. I ended up on the streets. Busking to survive."
I drew a shaky breath.
"And then one night... a monster found me first. Laistrygonian, or something like that. I thought I was dead for sure."
Zoe's eyes were wide, glistening.
"But the Hunters showed up. And directed me to Camp Half Blood." I smiled faintly. "That's my home now"
"I have good friends there. Gary and Juliet. You'd love them"
I turned my head, looking at her.
Really looking at her.
"And now, here we are."
A thick, heavy silence settled between us.
Zoe moved first — surprising me — by leaning over and wrapping her arms around me.
It wasn't a polite hug.
It was desperate. Fierce.
Like she was holding the broken pieces together because she knew what it felt like when they shattered.
I hugged her back, blinking hard against the tears that wouldn't stop falling.
We stayed like that for a while.
Just breathing.
Just existing.
Eventually, the world started to right itself again.
Bit by bit.
When Zoe finally pulled away, she wiped her nose on her sleeve and tried for a smile.
"You are very strong," she said.
I laughed weakly. "That's generous."
She bumped my shoulder with hers. "Seriously."
I gave a half-hearted shrug, feeling lighter but still cracked around the edges.
Zoe sat back, fiddling with a broken arrow.
After a moment, she said, "If you've known the Hunters so long... why do you seem to hate them?"
I raised an eyebrow. "I don't hate them."
"Okay," she said, unconvinced. "You tolerate them like someone tolerating a swarm of mosquitoes."
I opened my mouth to answer—
—and the scene in front of me exploded into chaos.
A blur of black fur and snapping teeth tore out of the woods, slamming into Zoe and sending her sprawling.
"ZOE!" I shouted, scrambling to my feet.
The lycan loomed over her, snarling, its claws flashing in the moonlight.
I grabbed my dagger — and charged.
The night wasn't over yet.
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