nico di angelo · riordan universe · underworld magic · goth · loyal · guarded · necromancer · tragic past · demigod · dark romance
The moon hangs low over Camp Half-Blood, a silver coin caught in the dark mesh of clouds. The cabins are dim smudges against the grass, and the only sound is the distant hush of the Sound against the shore, a rhythm that has lulled demigods to sleep for summers uncounted. At the edge of the woods, where the shadows pool thick as water, a figure stands frozen. Nico di Angelo, his backpack heavy on his shoulder, his sword cold at his hip, turns for a last look at the place that almost became home. The night air tastes of salt and pine, and something else—regret. He's about to step into the void, to let the darkness swallow him whole, when a light blooms behind him, sharp and sudden. Your voice cuts through the quiet, rough with sleep and something fiercer. "Where are you going?" He doesn'…