𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, luke castellan

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

On Friday evening, ahead of Capture the Flag, Keira headed to the armory by the Athena cabin to gather weapons.

Upon stepping into the spacious metal shed, she spied another demigod already inside, engaged in the same task. Even from behind, she recognized the figure instantly, no need for him to turn around. His towering stature, a few inches above her own, his tousled blonde locks, and the broad expanse of his back beneath the black fabric of his shirt unmistakably identified him as Luke.

Keira's sly smile crept across her face, unseen by Luke in that moment, as she gently shut the door behind her. The faint click of the latch caught Luke's attention, drawing his gaze toward her in the dimly lit armory.

Despite the subdued lighting, he could make out Keira's familiar form: olive green cargo pants hugging her legs, a snug black tank top highlighting her slender frame, and sturdy black combat boots adorning her feet. Her hair, as usual, was neatly braided, and she wore that smirk on her face that he so detested, as it often foreshadowed trouble.

"Look who's here," she drawled, her voice laced with mischief as she sauntered closer to him.

"Keira," Luke acknowledged, his tone betraying a feigned nonchalance.

She circled around him, her eyes scanning the weapons on the racks. The dim light accentuated the contours of her face, reminiscent of that heated night on the beach where the moon had cast a similar glow on her features. Luke couldn't deny that since that night, he had often found himself dreaming of more moments like that with her.

Yet, her arrogant smirk brought him crashing back to reality. Since her return to camp, she had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him, treating him with more disdain than ever. Quickly shaking off the memory, he refocused on the task at hand.

He turned his gaze back to the helmet shelves and began inspecting them, searching for the one with the toughest metal and the most comfortable fit. Ignoring her would be the best course of action, and it might have been effective if she hadn't decided to speak again, her eyes still fixed on the racks.

"So, enjoying the new team setup?" she asked, alluding to the fact that they were no longer on the same team.

Luke gazed at Keira from the side, his eyes involuntarily trailing from her back down to her waist as she stood on tiptoes to reach a dagger on a shelf slightly above her height.

When he finally spoke, his voice carried a hint of huskiness. "Not as much as you. I'm sure you're thrilled to get rid of me."

"Oh, Luke, miss our heated clashes on the battlefield?"

Keira turned away from the shelf and approached him with the dagger in one hand, her finger tracing the edge of it expertly, avoiding any cuts. She slowly ran her eyes from the blade to him, a subtle smirk playing on her lips.

Luke had to resist the urge to close his eyes when he heard her utter his name. When she called him by it instead of her usual playful 'kiddo' he knew that something troublesome was about to happen.

However, making every effort to appear unaffected, he shot her a sidelong glance, a smirk mirroring hers. "It's not like I'm losing any sleep over it."

She nibbled on her lower lip, closing the distance between them with deliberate steps. When she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper, laden with a mixture of sensuality and mockery. Luke had to summon all his self-control to resist being swept away by her words.

"Is someone feeling a little wounded by our parting? Craving the tension we used to share?"

Luke maintained his stance, crossing his arms over his chest, which caused his muscles to subtly flex beneath the fabric of his shirt. Keira's gaze lingered on his biceps, and a sly smile curved on her lips as she appreciated his physique.