Luna of the Menae
She ignores my defensive posture and keeps speaking in a calm tone.
“Yeah? It means nothing to me.” I pivot my foot, ready to turn around. I’m only familiar with the ten miles I ran with Arrow this morning, but I will figure something out.
“Well, starting right now, it does. He doesn’t have much progeny, but you are one of them. It makes you unique, Bronx.” She crosses her legs and laces her finger over her knee. “You are a Greek demigod. Grandson of the Titan Perses and damn if you don’t look just like that cocky bastard. Even more so than the Frouros or the other four Guardians. Oh, I’ve never thought of it before, but I guess it also makes Hecate your Auntie.”
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