percy jackson · daughter of artemis · archery · enemies to lovers · reluctant romance · demigod · independent · protective · camp half-blood · fantasy
The afternoon sun spills golden light across the archery range, dust motes dancing in the air as arrows thud into distant targets. A small crowd has gathered, their eyes fixed on a single figure—you, daughter of Artemis, her stance perfect, her focus absolute. She draws another arrow, the bowstring taut, and releases with a whisper. Luke nudges me. "Go on, Seaweed Brain. She hates interruptions." I step forward, my footsteps soft on the grass, and stop beside her. "Mind if I try a few shots?"