For those of you who were lovely enough to encourage my Percy fic delusions, here's a first look:
"Antheia Li-Desjardins was never born—she was bestowed. A miracle carved from grief and stitched from prayers, she was Hera’s answer to mortal longing. But the gods do not give without taking, and Antheia is no ordinary daughter. She is an echo of something forbidden, a child sculpted from nothing but divine will. Her very existence is a rebellion against fate, and the Fates do not take kindly to defiance.
She is hunted by the heavens themselves, her life a thread pulled taut by ancient hands that would see her severed from the tapestry of the world. Camp Half-Blood is meant to be her shelter, a place where war drums quiet and time slows into ritual and routine. Antheia thrives in that quiet. She finds comfort in order, in sun-warmed mornings and silent evenings, in knowing exactly when the arrows fly and when the waves will still. But peace shatters when the sea brings with it a tempest in a boy’s skin.
Percy Jackson is a hurricane of salt and laughter, reckless smiles and questions that dig too deep. He is unrefined, loud, endlessly curious, and entirely too golden for someone who’s known too much gray. She loathes the way he saunters past her walls like they were never there. She loathes the way he speaks to her, as if she isn’t a myth. But most of all, she loathes the way he stays.
Eventually, Antheia learns that not all storms destroy; some simply wash away what no longer serves. And Percy? He learns that even the most divine roses have thorns, not to wound, but to protect what is sacred.
Together, they are a tale the gods never meant to write: a forbidden daughter and the sea’s most loyal son. A girl stitched from longing, and a boy born for prophecy. Two myths colliding beneath a sky too old to remember how to be kind."
