Luke Castellan always had that look—the look that made you wonder if he knew something you didn’t, if he was always two steps ahead, whether he was playing everyone or just playing you.

You didn’t know him well. Not really. Not yet. But you felt him every time he passed by.

The first time you saw him up close was on the training grounds. His eyes flickered your way—silver and sharp, cold but somehow burning with an intensity that made your skin prickle. He wasn’t looking at you like the other campers. Not like you were just another face, just another demigod with a weapon. No, Luke’s gaze cut deeper, and you could almost swear it was more… like he was measuring you.

“You’re new,” he said, voice smooth, but with a sharp edge that made you pause.

Luke stepped closer, his presence like a shadow swallowing the space between you, his eyes never leaving yours. He was just too much—too confident, too smooth, too… everything.