CHAPTER XXX

[Warning: Dark, Mature Themes]

Two birds, one black and one yellow, circled the bright sky above a dusty canyon.

The sun bleached the rocks below and where lush shrubbery had dotted the landscape before, grey husks of dried flora remained. Down below, at the canyon's base, awaited something remarkable.

Swooping down, the black raven barrelled towards a small divot in the canyon's wall, the yellow canary following close behind. The two birds landed, shaded from the sun's glare.

'Of all birds,' the canary hopped furiously, 'a canary! Honestly?!'

'What's wrong with a canary?' The raven shook out its feathers absently.

'It's tiny! You could've chosen a hawk or an eagle, something that soars.'

'I thought the canary suited you, though.'

'Oh sure, save the bird with a magnificent wingspan for yourself.'

The raven extended its wings and ruffled them with a triumphant laugh.

'Canaries are light and swift; you didn't have too much trouble keeping up with me.' The raven approached, its fine black form looming over the little canary.

Lowering its head, it gently smoothed the butter-yellow feathers atop the canary's head with its curved beak.

'The canary's song,' the raven said tenderly, 'reminds me of you.'

The little canary crooned sombrely, brushing away the raven.

'I suppose a canary is apt,' it chirped, hopping towards the rock's edge, 'which bird better to embody than one that only knows the confines of a cage.'

The raven stepped towards the canary, sighing at the image of her little, forlorn back.

'Your mother,' he began, 'will only be at peace with me here if she has her eyes on you at all times. Try to bear it a little longer – until the autumn arrives.'

'If there is an autumn at all.'

The swish of a hot gust of wind filled the quiet between them.

'It is unlike you to think so bleakly,' the raven stepped towards the rock's edge, 'do you not have faith in your kingdom—'

'I plan to tell her soon,' the canary chirped again tersely, '…mother, I mean. That I plan to defect – permanently – to the Underworld.'

'Persephone—'

'It is my decision. It is what I want. I'm tired of living on the periphery of Olympus' glow, of waning in the dark of my mother's shadow. I…I want to remain in the meadows of the Underworld. With you, permanently.'

The raven gazed down at the canary, his heart unbearably heavy.

'Your place in Olympus…your role here is irreplaceable. You are a gem in this kingdom's crown; to take you…and then spin this so that they believe—'

'You are not taking me and we are not spinning anything. I would be defecting of my own volition. I don't want to sit idly anymore, letting vicious falsehoods about you be crafted by the likes of my mother. I won't allow you to tarnish your name for my sake – not anymore.'

The little canary hopped towards the raven, closing the little space between them. She looked up and gazed into his shimmering black eye before he could turn his head towards the sprawling canyon.

'And if,' he began quietly, 'these vicious falsehoods your mother and I so expertly craft held water? Could you bear me for all seasons of the year?'

'Yes,' she did not hesitate, 'whatever is your truth, I accept it, Hades.'

Hades looked down at Persephone. Even as a little, plump canary, her beak stout and pink feet splayed, Persephone was immaculate. He had crafted her colour to be paler than most and made sure that the end of her tail was as white as first-snow. Her smooth head; the delicate curve of her proud chest; the two perfectly black beads that were her eyes – they all enchanted him. Were he not a raven himself, he would hold her tenderly in the palm of his hand.

'This is ridiculous,' she chattered suddenly, 'the birds. I mean, they are fantastic. Brilliantly crafted of course – that is to be expected from you. But to have to be birds just to see one another in discreet is ludicrous. My mother still believes me to be juvenile, a maiden, after all these millennia. But I've long been a woman, even before meeting you, Hades. It was the yearning beasts among the fields of mother's temple, after all, that taught me the true nature of men and women.'

Persephone looked up at Hades whose wings fluttered ever so slightly.

'I had hoped,' she continued quietly, 'to meet you today…and indulge in that nature.'

The feathers on Hades' chest and tail stood to attention as a chill ran along his spine. In search of his composure, he attempted to clear his throat but could only manage a rattling croak. Persephone chittered with impish delight.

'You become like this every time, you know!' she giggled.

'Well…' Hades began, watching her hop about, 'I…I suppose to hear you speak so brazenly is still…foreign to my ears.'

'You don't have ears,' she turned and peered down into the canyon, 'you're a raven, silly. And a busy one at that.'

Hades gazed down into the canyon's base. He wouldn't ask, but he wondered if Persephone was impressed.

'Weeks' worth of tireless work. Mostly from Hephaestus' side but…well. I hope this won't be for nought.'

'Who's the one who sounds like they have no faith in the kingdom now?'

Hades croaked indignantly; Persephone chirped, amused.

'But you believe in Athena, at least,' Persephone looked up at him, 'don't you?'

'I believe her efforts will be in vain if the rest of the kingdom cannot match her conviction. Even then…I still have one more card to play. A treacherous one, but a card nonetheless.'

'One more card? What do you mean by that? What card?' her tail feathers quivered with anticipation.

Hades stepped towards her, sunlight warming his cool black wings, and lowered his head.

'Can you keep a secret?' he whispered, his large beak brushing hers.

Gently nudging her own beak against his, Persephone cooed in quiet affirmation.

*.*.*

Athena did not want to turn her eyes from the sun. She wanted the sun's rays, like long, glimmering fingers, to pluck her eyes from their sockets and hold them tight. She wanted them to melt through the sun's grip. Anything to avoid meeting the gaze of the one who approached.

Heavy hooves treaded across the forest opening's floor. A sharp snort followed the distinct sound of leather reins being tugged in a pair of calloused hands.

Broad, warm, calloused hands that had touched things much softer than herself in the last few months, Athena was sure.

The movement behind her ceased and a patient silence filled the opening. Athena managed to tear her eyes from the sun. She gazed down at the limp form beneath her foot, the odd shapes of light dancing in her eyes making it almost impossible to make out the anguished expression of the beast she had slain. Gripping her sword's hilt, she flicked droplets of blood from the blade, before running its length across the hem of her dress. Then she gazed into the blades mucky surface, somehow seeking her own reflection.

As if that reflection – that warped face – could offer her any solace.

'Everyone is wondering where you are, you know.'

There it was. The prickling, then the blooming, then the igniting.

Warmth.

Heat, starting at her ears where his voice first arrived, spread across her face and down to her neck. Despite it, goosebumps spread across her arms and chest.

'I was sent to come find you. Turned out to be a rather simple feat. With a little help, that is.'

A screech resounded across the forest high above Athena's head. Slowly, she gazed up at the sun again, seeing what she hadn't noticed before in her daze.

A proud hawk with its sweeping wings circled the sky above her. It screeched again, almost indignant that this was her first time acknowledging its presence.

'Is that what you've been using to spy on me?' she said, returning her gaze to the beast again. She had hoped, before she'd even uttered the words, that her voice would be steady and steely upon their first meeting. It was a fruitless hope.

'No. You wanted to be away from me, remember?'

Athena truly wished he were not here. Her mornings had been spent awaking before the crack of dawn, sharpening her blades, picking through a spartan breakfast and then bolting off into the horizon to slash her way through any unwelcome beast that had arrived on Olympian soil. Some days, when she knew she would be deep in the densest, darkest crooks of Olympus, she would ride off without her boots. Just to feel earth beneath her feet.

Just to feel the burning prick of a stray thorn. The dull nick of a loose rock.

But now here he was. Threatening her routine, her return to the glittering days of hollow valour where she felt little and thought solely of a future that was not even her own. Now he was here and all she could do was feel.

'That came out…strangely,' he started again, his voice small and tender, 'I didn't mean it to be a criticism. I just meant that…you asked for some space and I wouldn't betray that request.'

Feeling the impending gavel of reality, she slipped her blade into its holster slowly. She hoped that he could not see the slight quiver of her wrist.

'Anyway,' he took a firmer tone, 'it's Hades and Hephaestus who are most eager to see you. Today is the first demonstration. You haven't forgotten, have you?'

'No,' she responded tersely before reining herself in, 'I have not.'

'Then let us depart.'

'I do not need an escort,' Athena whistled sharply and a zealous neigh broke through the leaves a few feet before her, 'I know the way there.'

'I'm not here to escort you,' he retorted, 'I came to find you, which I have. Now, I'm going to see the demonstration as per Hades' invitation. So, are you coming or not?'

Her obsidian steed slowly made its way through the brush and thicket of the forest before emerging into the opening. Its brilliant, sparkling black muzzle came into view and it shook its head as though a beating heart permitted it to.

Athena glanced at it momentarily, its glossy, empty eye gazing at her. Her body was stiff and she wished the amorphous globs of light that swamped her vision just a moment ago could return to blind her.

After the meeting at the Great Hall, and the days of sheer anguish that followed for her, Athena made great strides to avoid him. That was the right and sensible thing to do, she told herself. This was the only way she could offer her undivided attention to the kingdom's cause. And yet, with each council meeting, in which she'd catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye, she felt an increasing – asphyxiating – sense that she had made the worst decision.

With each moment that he did not fervently pursue her, that he did not seduce her into a momentary vignette of bliss, she felt sure that this was the worst decision.

For once, he had listened to her. He had given her what she wanted.

But what she wanted was the right and just thing to do. The next few weeks' dedication to combat training, information gathering, strategizing and beast slaying had hardened her resolve and fortified her body. But it had also led to days where, as he had said, everyone wondered where she was.

It led to this barbaric and insatiable thirst for the warmth of lifeblood. The warmth he had in abundance.

So, when Athena forced herself to turn, just enough to peer at him over her shoulder, she wondered what dread might fill him to see her in such a state. She wondered what he saw. Because what she could see…

My. What a thing to behold.

He was Ares. Fine and dark and sculpted upon his steed. The sun's bright rays illuminated the crisp white of his shirt, a stark contrast against the duskiness of his skin that the summer brought him. Where a sliver of his chest was exposed, Athena could see old white scars and new ones that glowed with a faint pinkness. His jaw was just as sharp as it had always been, his shoulders just as broad and his ears…well, those lovely things were all the more prominent now. The mane of red hair he once sported had been tamed with haircut that almost made him look like a romantic.

An image flashed across Athena's mind. One of her brushing those neat locks away before carefully accepting the tender lobe of one of those ears between her lips.

She was sure she caught the ghost of a smirk pass his lips.

'You're a mess,' he said.

And what sounded to Athena like an absent murmur was truly a breathless aspiration, a quiet mark of that what was going on in Ares' chest. He tightened his grip on the reins and his steed tensed beneath him with the sudden shift in atmosphere.

Blood absolutely soaked her. Its spray had travelled up the length of her dress and landed on her chest, a few stray droplets making it to her chin. Her foot was propped upon the beast with casual triumph, an artery still spitting blood from the place where her blade had felled it. The sun's heat had ravaged her, a film of shimmering dew on her skin. Where sweat pooled beneath her dress, the light fabric of the garment clung to her body, exposing the delightful curves and lines of her body.

And her eyes. The untameable curls of her hair obscured them in part and yet he could still see their glimmer. They glared with a vacant darkness and yet behind them was an enchanting light from which he could barely draw himself. In fact, there was nothing of her he could escape.

The fabric around the crotch of his trousers tightened viciously as he felt himself swell in them.

She was fucking divine.

Athena turned away from him, having finally overcome the part she dreaded most, and glanced one last time at the pitiful creature. She had killed so many of its kind in the last few weeks, it had almost become sport. Yet this thing's only sin was to live in a way too unnatural – too absurd – for Olympus' standards. Silently, she cursed herself.

She had only seen Ares for a few seconds and she was already sympathising with spawns of the enemy.

Turning to her steed, Athena swiftly mounted it before steering towards Ares' direction. Despite herself, she gave him one last glace before passing him and entering back into the thick of the forest.

*.*.*

Athena couldn't tell which configuration was worse. To be tailing Ares, or for Ares to be tailing her.

At the moment she took up the lead, her steed steadily plodding across the dry forest floor. Ares kept a generous distance between them, but his pace never fell out of rhythm with hers.

She could feel the heat of his gaze on her back and the fine hairs of her neck stood like hackles. The distance between their current location and the meet-up point for the demonstration was a considerable length. So, to imagine his unwavering stare upon her for the entire journey was sheer torment.

But was it any more tormenting than the prospect of Ares taking up the lead and feeling her stare on his back instead? He would be perceptive enough to feel it, to know exactly where her eyes had fallen.

Upon his shoulders, then to the small space between his shoulder blades. Down the length of his back…

Athena cleared her throat, realising now how dry it was.

The sun beat down on the two as they made their way through the densest bits of the forest. The day was full of the chirps, screeches and croaks of little forest dwellers. Skittering beneath leaves and rocks, resting upon trees, they drank in the sun's unforgiving glow.

And Athena drank it in too. She felt a swelling in her head and a dryness form over her tongue. The light insects returned to her eyes even though she had not looked at the sun since they'd set off.

'You're swaying.'

Ares' voice cleaved through the ringing in her ears.

'…What?'

'You're swaying from side to side as you ride. You'll fall off at this rate.'

'No, I won't,' Athena heaved a dry breath, amused at the prospect that anyone thought she'd be the type to fall off of her horse. But even with that little chuckle, she felt herself become winded.

She heard Ares' steed pull in closer behind hers with just a few feet between them now.

The two continued in silence – and suddenly silence was on Athena's mind.

The silence that followed Athena's declaration after the council meeting was, perhaps, the vastest silence she had ever experienced in her life.

I think I want to be away from you.

The words spilled out of her mouth. And even if she wanted to catch them in her hands, they'd simply slip through her fingers.

In that cavernous hallway, she heard her voice resound and for a moment thought it might be that of a child's. She shrunk, and could feel it too, and with her shrinking there was no space left to put those words back.

This time, it was different. The part of her, quite shamefully, that keenly awaited a detour from this path – that peered around corners seeking his misguidance – was firmly tucked away. This time, she meant it and she could see that he knew it too.

And Ares. He had said words that could never be corralled back into the pastures of his mouth.

Are you afraid to hear me say that I love you?

Those words had musicality to them when they passed his lips. His mouth suddenly seemed gentle, sweet even, and Athena was sure his eyes dissipated into mist. What a silly thing to say.

I won't say it then. But I do.

Athena gripped the reins of her steed with unsteady hands, and the stone beast balked at the tension.

How silly. How haunting.

Suddenly, she felt a firm grip on her arm. She snagged the reins with a jolt and the obsidian horse came to halt with an incensed snort.

'Athena,' Ares brought his steed to a stop beside hers. Athena glanced down at the slender fingers encircling her bicep before looking up at him. His expression was a mix of impatience and concern.

'You are swaying. You look like you're going to colla—' his eyes dropped to his hand. Furrowing his brows, he loosened his grip.

'You're warm,' he muttered, 'overheating. You're…'

He unclasped his grip slowly, allowing her heat to escape his fingers. Her skin was like butter; silky and melting at his fingertips. Transfixed, he could not draw his gaze from her arm when he suddenly noticed it.

Goosebumps.

Spreading up and across her arm from the place where he'd touched her.

The sun streamed through the trees and onto her, rendering the little hairs on her skin a brilliant golden colour. His hand hesitating, he teased those hairs lightly with the tip his thumb before brushing against her skin. A breath escaped him as the hairs on his own neck piqued.

He was touching her. And her body wanted him to.

He cursed, pulling his hand away.

'You're making this impossible for me.' he muttered, steering his horse forward. He pulled in front of Athena and glared at her.

'There's a stream coming up ahead just north of us,' with a grunt, he guided his steed ahead, 'you can cool down there.'

Athena watched as he strode ahead, her mind pushing and pulling like a tide.

In these last few weeks, despite spending hours upon hours out in the heat, the sun felt distant to Athena. It wrung sweat from her body so that by the time she returned to her temple, her thirst could only be quenched after chugging three large pitchers of water. It ravaged and blistered her skin so severely that it sent Maija into a remedy-concocting frenzy every evening after her mistress' bath. And yet, only a few hours later would Athena find herself awaking at the crack of dawn to escape the confines of her temple again, feverishly seeking out the heat of the brutal sun.

But now, her head was afflicted by an impenetrable pressure, threatening to break her skull open. She could feel every drip of sweat cascade down her back, her pores producing new droplets in their place. She could feel her throat's dryness; her palms' dampness.

Athena blinked the light insects from her eyes.

She could feel the heat.

And now she was hot and thirsty – and perhaps even a little peckish – and willing to follow anyone who could lead her to a cool stream to clear her mind and moisten her hoarse throat.

Still feeling a sweet prickling sensation where Ares' hand had touched her, Athena allowed a small distance between their steeds before steering her horse to follow his.

*.*.*

Stepping into the wide stream, Athena allowed the cool water to rush over her ankles. She strode further into it until the water lapped up to her knees.

She glanced down and noticed the bloodied hem of her dress. It floated upon the stream's surface before soaking through, murky clouds of blood blooming around her. Then, Athena saw her own reflection.

The dried blood caked above her lip and beneath her nose. The speckles of blood still staining her chin. The dusty sweat that clung to her skin's surface.

Feeling the heat of shame ignite her face, she dropped to her knees and cupped a generous amount of water into her hands before splashing herself and scrubbing away at her cheeks.

Ares guided his steed towards the stream's edge and patted its muzzle. The horse lowered its head to the water's surface and gulped with fervour. Glancing back to the shadowy forest line, he saw Athena's obsidian steed standing beneath the trees, happily pawing at the forest floor with its hoof.

Even without Athena's attention, that thing still had a life of its own. Perhaps this could work.

Catching himself, he scoffed at his own optimism. What would it matter if it worked, anyway?

He turned to the stream, eyes drawn to Athena. The stream was wide, but not very deep. Through the sparkling surface he could see the smooth stones that made the stream's base. And at its centre sat Athena, soaked through.

Her back to him, he could see as she scrubbed her chin and chest, cupping water into her hands and lapping it over herself. She washed the speckles of blood from her arms, then went to work wringing the blood from her dress. The water surrounding her was murky at first, but slowly started to clear as it travelled downstream.

When Athena's reflection appeared in the water again, it was distinct. She looked halfway decent again and was suddenly made aware of the aching thirst in her throat. Cupping her hands, she dipped and drew them from the water before taking a long sip. She hoped the beast's blood had been washed far enough down the stream for her not to taste it.

'You came all the way out here in this heat, without even so much as a flask of water?' she heard Ares ask. His voice was smooth over the sound of the rushing stream.

'I never do,' she said after a pause, 'I guess today…it has affected me more than it usually does. I'm not like you.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'I mean,' she glanced over her shoulder for a short second, 'I'm not partial to scorching temperatures the way you are. When we—'

Athena caught her tongue. She was reminded of the night of Ares' arrival from Tartarus and the time they spent in his bathtub together. He thrived in the balminess of that bath chamber, revelled in the heat that Athena couldn't bear. But to bring up such a subject at this time, knowing the events that followed, seemed impossible to her.

'I'm sure,' she cleared her throat, 'the summer has been a dream for you.'

She heard a heavy sigh and quickly chugged another handful of water – perhaps in preparation for what he would say next.

'Well. It's hardly been that way,' he remarked ruefully, 'my summer has been…quite peculiar actually. Not as hot as I thought it would be.'

'This? Not as hot as you thought it would be?' she splashed her face once more, allowing the cool droplets to cascade down her cheeks.

'I suppose,' he chuckled, 'it's more that I've just not been feeling it.'

Athena froze. She turned to him ever so slightly, just so her ear could catch his voice more clearly.

'What?'

'I said it's more that I've—'

'No, I heard you. Just…what do you mean by 'not feeling it'?'

Ares, leaning against his horse, eyed her carefully.

'Well, I—it's difficult to explain. It won't really make any sense.'

'We're here aren't we? It's a long trek to the canyon. We might as well...amuse one another with anecdotes.'

Her tone feigned casual, but Ares could see the stiffness in her shoulders. Those tender shoulders…

He tore his eyes away from her, shifting his focus to his steed. The horse had drunk its fill and shook its mane absently.

'Lately—I'm not sure, really. Usually, I prefer conducting the bulk of my training regime when the sun is at its highest. At its hottest. I had always assumed it gave me some sort of…cosmic strength, I suppose. Even out in battle, I believed its heat boiled my blood, made it pump through me with greater force than anyone's heart should handle.'

Ares laughed bitterly.

'But now,' he continued, stroking his horse's neck, 'lately I go out when the sun's glaring and its scorching and yet…I don't know. I can feel my skin burning and the sweat pouring and my head pounding – all the things that tell you you've been out in the sun for far too long – and I feel nothing. Not the drumming of my heart, not the igniting of my appetite for battle…just nothing.'

Athena watched water pass over her fingers, eyes wide. On the stream's surface, flecks of lights swam about and she was reminded of the shapeless lights that danced in her own eyes just moments ago. She remembered the searing heat of the sun flooding her retinae and swearing she could stay that way forever. Feeling nothing.

She shot up from the water and stared off into the forest line. Hesitantly, she clutched the ends of her dress and turned to Ares.

When her eyes met him, his eyes glimmered with a light of tender recognition. They were looking at each other, properly this time, and Athena felt her skin prickle with warmth again.

'Did my pathetic anecdote bore you?' a small grin curled his lips.

'It wasn't pathetic,' Athena retorted without a pause; he blinked at her, 'not pathetic. But…peculiar like you said.'

His gaze travelled from her eyes, down her neck and chest.

'You're sopping, Athena.'

'I know,' she waded through the stream, 'I'll dry up by the time we arrive. With this heat and the wind—'

'No, you don't understand—' he interjected before cutting off. For a brief moment he shut his eyes and Athena could see his jaw tighten.

'I mean,' he continued, strained, 'you're wet. And I can see everything. You aren't wearing anything underneath, are you?'

She froze. Athena glanced down, her senses suddenly rushing to her.

The fabric of her dress was no thicker than that of a nightgown, light and almost gossamer. Which was no surprise because if she remembered correctly, she hadn't even awaited the sun's arrival before grabbing her sword and holster and setting out into the forest with her steed. So, in all likelihood – she was still in her nightgown.

Her face flushing furiously, she gathered her dress up around her and Athena frantically tried to cover herself up. But it was of no use. Every line, curve and tender mound of her body was exposed beneath the sheer fabric.

'I—I…well—' she stammered, shrinking into herself. Before she could manage another word, Ares turned, tugging at his steed's reins and trudged towards the treeline.

'You are making this absolutely impossible for me,' he growled, grunting at his horse's resistance, 'I should never have come here. I should have just let you arrive at the demonstration looking like a bloodied homicidal maniac and explain yourself – and your tardiness – to Hades and Hephaestus when you got there.'

Indignant – and still mortified at herself – Athena waded through the stream after him, the slippery rocks making her gait unsteady.

'I did not ask you to come here looking for me,' she huffed, 'I would have made my way to the canyon – in good time – regardless of whether you found me or not. I don't understand—what have I even done to incur your wrath this time?'

'Oh, you don't know?' he glanced at her over his shoulder and gestured sardonically, 'you didn't think this would be hell for me? Seeing you in a slinky little nightgown, prancing about the forest covered in the sweet blood of your enemy?'

'There was no way I would have known you would be here! If you're trying to suggest that I—that this was all some ploy to seduce you then you're—'

'Everything you do seduces me!' Ares roared. His horse bucked and a flurry of birds soared from the forest trees into the air. He tossed the reins of his steed away and marched towards Athena, fire in his eyes.

'I gave you what you wanted. I gave you the distance – from me – that you wanted. I thought that, at the very least, in exchange you might look at me once every other council meeting. Acknowledge that I exist. But instead, I've had to sit on my hands, content with the fact that I've been effectively dead to you for several months–'

He plodded through the stream and Athena's feet fumbled beneath her as she tried to step back.

'Now, I come here with every intention of behaving. Of being the good boy you wanted me to be for you, and what am I subjected to? You in this tiny, marvellous little dress, sopping wet with not even so much as half an undergarment beneath it.'

The water around them splashed as his boots made their way across the rocky base of the stream. Athena's heart drummed and her breath snagged as he approached. He stopped less than a foot before her, his brawny form towering hers.

'It doesn't matter what you do Athena of Olympus,' he hissed, 'Everything you do seduces me. Every word you say in those damned meetings piques my ears. Just the mere sight of you makes the hairs on my neck vibrate like a beast in rut. So, forgive me that you, soaked in this stupid dress is making my groin ache. Forgive me that everything you are and do makes me ache, Athena.'

Athena gazed up at him.

The strands of hair that fell before his face. The golden tint to his cheeks. His sweet mouth with its bitter words. Everything was so close. So perfectly in place.

Ares' eyes darted across her face as his incensed expression melted into something sombre and regretful. The water rushed around them.

'Don't look at me that way,' he strained a whisper, 'like I'm filth to you.'

'I never said,' Athena's voice quaked, 'that you were filth—'

'You would,' he said, 'if you knew the things I think about you. The things I want to do to you. How often. How long. How rough. You've given me nothing but time to think about you. About filth.'

A warm, sparkling wave of electricity swelled in Athena's hips, pooling right down to their centre. Beneath her dress, she squirmed as he closed the distance between them. She shut her eyes and felt his forehead lightly brush against hers.

'No one in Olympus,' he gazed at her lips, 'would forgive me if they knew the depths I want to drag you to, Athena.'

The water sloshed and Athena eyes fluttered open. She watched Ares saunter off to his steed, a magnetic pulse throbbing low beneath her belly.