The quest had been long, exhausting, and filled with more near-death experiences than Clarisse cared to count. But it was finally over.

Stepping into Ares’ cabin, she dropped her bag onto her bed, rolling her shoulders to shake off the lingering tension. The familiar scent of sweat, metal, and battle-worn leather filled the air. But before she could even think about resting, laughter erupted around her.

Clarisse froze, her eyebrows knitting together. What the hell was so funny?

She turned to face her half-siblings, who were exchanging amused glances, smirking like they were in on some inside joke. Crossing her arms, she pressed her lips into a thin line. “What?” she asked, her voice carrying that unmistakable edge of warning.

More snickers. Someone barely held back a chuckle before finally speaking up, their tone dripping with sarcasm and mock innocence.

“Well… your spouse misses you dearly.”

Clarisse’s eyes narrowed. Oh gods, not this again.

“Who is it?” she snapped, already knowing the answer. She sucked her teeth, exhaling sharply as she scanned their grinning faces. They didn’t even try to hide it.

Her half-siblings exchanged knowing looks before, in perfect unison, they said your name.

Clarisse groaned. Of course it was you. Bold enough—stupid enough—to go around camp calling her your wife.