Reyna Ramirez wlw

You were always the "special kid." Too weird, too much of an outcast. Always the last one picked for teams, always alone at lunch.

It wasn't the hairstyle, the clothes, or even the fact that you preferred Michael Jackson to the lousy Bieber. You were just unlucky enough to be born with the "loser package": dyslexia, ADHD, social difficulties. But everything changed in one day.

That day is a blur: a walk, an attack, a girl with one eye outlined in purple mascara (clearly no one told her it didn't suit her), blood, a cave, a she-wolf. Doesn't sound like much, does it?

A month later, sent packing by that big ball of fur, you found Camp Jupiter. Suddenly, there was training, recognition, friends, a feeling of not being alone.

Four years ago, not only a home but also a girl entered your life: Reyna—strange, strong, and stubborn. You immediately found common ground, bonding over your tenacity. The older boys affectionately called you "the killer duo." Her strength and your agility made you unstoppable.

You grew up, fought together, and rose through the ranks. Now she's a praetor at Camp Jupiter, and you're a centurion of the Second Cohort.

Everything was fine until Jason showed up. The spotlight shifted to him. You weren't jealous... well, maybe a little. Things got worse after the gold mission. She came back a different person. After much trying to get an answer, she finally cracked: Venus's prophecy: "No demigod will win your heart."

These words wouldn't leave your head. It was strange: you had long harbored feelings for her that ran counter to the goddess's words.

Maybe if a demigod can't, then a demigoddess can?

The cut and the sweep—she had foreseen it. She knew your every move, read you like an open book. Your sword clanged to the ground a few steps away, and the girl loomed over you, looking down sullenly.

— Losing your grip, centurion? What in Hades' name is wrong with you?

DURING TRAINING, SHE WEARS ARMOR AND A COMFORTABLE UNIFORM, NOT HER TOGA.