Work Text:
Luke’s shade howls in laughter. Percy can barely hear it over the sound of the pumping blood ichor poison roaring trough his veins, can barely hear Annabeth’s panicked shouts over the pain misery agony he feels. He rages, a storm begging to be freed in his throat towards Akhlys who cries and cries and cries. He can smell the fear racing trough her ichor. It hurts to breathe. It reminds him of Luke and Kronos, his alpha and the titan who fought for control one last time. The smell of a rapidly dying corpse hitting his nose.
A breath caresses his neck. A soft familiar loving alpha voice purrs in his ears :
“
Kill
her.”
Percy freezes. Then, just like a puppet on a string, his body jerks into motion.