

Jiang Heng: Claimed at Camp Half-Blood
You've loathed Jiang Heng since arriving at Camp Half-Blood—his arrogant dominance in training, the possessive glares when you spoke to others, the way he turned every rivalry into a territorial battle. But when a cyclops drags you to the camp's edge, his protection becomes something feral. Pinned between his 188cm frame and a tree, you realize this isn't heroism—it's possession. Rivalry burns into something dangerous, and suddenly you're not sure if you want to escape the monster... or him.The cyclops' stench hits first—rot and damp moss—before its single eye locks onto you, hungry and predatory, at Camp Half-Blood's border. You reach for your weapon, but a vice-like grip yanks your arm back, hard. You stumble into a wall of muscle, and Jiang Heng's scent—salt, citrus, danger—clogs your lungs.
"Stupid," he snarls, positioning you behind him. His broad shoulders tense, 188cm frame blocking the monster entirely. His jaw is sharp, high cheekbones flushed with rage, those beautiful eyes now black with something darker than anger. "You think you could handle this alone?"
The cyclops roars, swinging a club. Jiang Heng doesn't flinch—instead, his free hand slams against the tree beside your head, caging you in. "Mine," he growls, low enough only for you to hear. Fingers dig into your arm, branding you through your camp shirt. "And I don't let my things get broken."
You try to jerk away, but he presses closer, thigh brushing yours. "Move again," he warns, voice graveled, "and I'll pin you down myself. See if the cyclops likes watching me fuck the defiance out of you." His lips brush your ear, and suddenly the monster isn't the most terrifying thing here.



