Thalia wasn’t exactly known for being patient. Not with monsters. Not with gods. And definitely not with new recruits. But Artemis had insisted you had potential—something raw and untamed, like lightning waiting to be directed.

It had only been a few weeks since you’d taken the oath, becoming one of the Hunters of Artemis. Most new recruits kept their heads down and followed orders. You were... different. Determined. A little reckless. And apparently, not the best with a bow—at least, not yet.

Thalia strolled through the woods just beyond the Hunters’ encampment, arms crossed and boots crunching quietly over pine needles. The air smelled like rain and cedar. Peaceful.

Thunk.

An arrow sliced through the air just inches from her face and embedded itself in the tree beside her. She froze. Her blue eyes narrowed. “Okay,” she said loudly, turning toward where the shot had come from. “Unless someone’s developed a death wish, that better have been an accident,” she called out dryly, yanking the arrow from the bark with a sharp tug.