Chapter 4: The Fine Print

Xena laid on her side and stared into the flames while her thoughts raced. She had been bracing herself for something—anything. She knew Ares well enough to know he wouldn't leave things alone for long. He never did.

When the faint disturbance of air filled the room, she didn't even flinch. She turned her head slightly, already knowing who it was.

"What now, Ares?" she muttered, her voice low and flat.

He was leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What, no 'hello'? Not even a 'thank you' for the lovely visit?"

Xena sat up slowly, her eyes narrowing. "If you're here to rehash the temple, save it. I'm not in the mood."

Ares laughed, stepping further into the room. "Oh, I'm not here to talk about what happened," he said, his tone dripping with amusement. "As much as I'd love to remind you of a few... highlights."

Her jaw tightened, but she refused to rise to the bait. "Then what do you want?"

He stopped a few paces from her bed, his eyes locking onto hers. The teasing smile faded, replaced by something sharper, more commanding. "I'm here to remind you of the rest of the deal."

Xena's brows creased, her confusion clear as she crossed her arms. "What are you talking about?"

Ares tilted his head slightly, his smirk returning. "The deal, Xena. You remember—be with me, give me a child, and all your little god problems disappear. Ring a bell?"

Her lips curled into a mocking smile as she stepped closer. "Be with you?" she repeated, her tone sharp. "That's done. CHECK," she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She glanced down at her stomach, then back at him with a smug look. "And the child? Too early to tell."

Ares laughed, low and rich, but the sound lacked humor. "Oh, Xena," he said, shaking his head. "You really think that's all it meant? One night? A one-time deal? You agreed to be with me—my partner. Not just for a night, but always."

Her body stiffened and her expression hardened as his words sunk in. "Always?" she snapped. "You're twisting this into something it's not."

"Am I?" he countered smoothly, stepping closer. His voice dropped, the teasing edge replaced by something darker. "You knew exactly what this meant. You knew it wasn't just about one night or even just a child. You're mine, Xena. That's what you agreed to."

Her fists clenched at her sides, her anger bubbling to the surface. "I agreed to one night with you and a possible child, if it happened after that one night. That's it. Don't try to spin this into something more."

He smirked. "You can pretend all you want, but deep down, you know I'm right. You agreed to be mine, Xena. And that doesn't come with an expiration date."

Xena stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever belong to you. I did what I had to do, Ares. Nothing more."

He leaned in, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down her spine. "You can fight it all you want, but we both know the truth. This isn't over. It's only just beginning."

Her jaw tightened, and she took a sharp breath as she stood her ground. "Get out," she hissed, her voice trembling with anger.

Ares studied her for a moment, his smirk softening into something unreadable. Then, with a faint shrug, he straightened. "I'll give you time to process it. But don't take too long, Xena. You and I both know you can't outrun this."

And with a flick of his hand, he disappeared, leaving Xena alone, her fists clenched and her mind racing. Xena sat back on the edge of the bed, gripping the blanket tightly as her chest rose and fell. She had expected vulnerability, expected him to try to break her down with softness. But this—this was worse. Because it was exactly what she'd feared.

He was never going to let her go.

The grand hall of Olympus was dimly lit, the golden torches casting flickering shadows across the room. Athena stood at the head of the table, her expression cold and calculating. Around her, the gods gathered—Apollo, Artemis, Hephaestus, and Hades, their expressions a mix of discontent and tension.

"Ares has crossed the line," Athena began, her voice sharp and steady. "His betrayal is no longer a matter of speculation. It's a fact."

Apollo leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "And what do you propose we do about it? Confront him? Punish him? Ares has always danced to his own tune. This is just... more of the same."

Athena's eyes narrowed as she fixed her gaze on him. "This isn't just Ares being Ares, Apollo. He's sided with Xena—a mortal—and helped her destroy our brethren. He's undermined us, disrespected our laws, and now he's forging alliances against Olympus. Do you really think we can let that stand?"

Artemis, seated beside Apollo, frowned. "You're assuming he's truly committed to Xena. Ares is nothing if not self-serving. He may simply be using her for his own ends."

"Perhaps," Athena replied , her tone icy. "But we can't ignore the possibility that he's serious. He's protected her and her child. He's defied us openly. If this alliance is real, then he's a threat to all of us."

Hephaestus adjusted in his seat, the soft sound of his armor breaking the silence. "And if it's not? If he's just toying with her, as he does with everyone else?"

Hades' deep voice cut through the conversation. "If Ares has chosen Xena over Olympus, then he's a traitor. And traitors must be dealt with."

A tense silence filled the hall as Athena spoke up, her gaze sweeping across the table. "So, the question is this: do we act now, or do we wait and see where his loyalty truly lies? Do we risk giving him more time to strengthen his bond with Xena?"

Apollo tapped his fingers on the table with a thoughtful expression. "If we move too soon, we risk driving him further into her arms. If we wait too long, we risk giving him more power."

Artemis tilted her head, her voice quieter but no less firm. "Do we even believe Ares would go so far as to die for Xena? That he would truly stand against us to his end?"

Athena's jaw tightened, her voice hard. "Ares has always been unpredictable. But this... this feels different. He's made sacrifices for her. He's chosen her over us, time and again. If he's willing to gamble everything for her, we cannot afford to underestimate him."

Hephaestus grunted. "And if we decide to punish him, how? Ares isn't one to take kindly to being... disciplined."

Athena's lips curled into a cold smile. "He's not invincible. And his weakness lies with her. If we want to punish him, we start with Xena."

The gods exchanged uneasy glances. Apollo leaned forward, his voice filled with doubt. "You'd risk provoking her? She has the power to kill us. If we push too hard—"

"She'll retaliate," Artemis finished.

Athena's eyes burned with determination. "Then we must be strategic. Ares' betrayal cannot go unanswered, but neither can Xena's defiance. If we play this right, we can bring them both to their knees."

The room fell silent once more, the gods lost in their thoughts. Finally, Hades spoke, his voice calm but firm. "If we're going to act, we need to act soon. The longer we wait, the stronger they become."

Athena nodded with a firm gaze. "Then it's decided. We will punish Ares—but carefully. And we will make Xena regret ever aligning with him."

The tension in the room grew heavier as Apollo glanced around, his brows pulling together. "Where's Aphrodite?" he asked, his voice sharp with suspicion.

Artemis leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "She's conveniently missing," she said.

"I could have sworn I felt her presence earlier," Apollo said, narrowing his eyes.

Athena's brow creased. "If she was here, I didn't pick up on her. Did anyone else sense her?"

The other gods exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from confusion to skepticism. Hades shook his head. "No. If she was here, she didn't make herself known."

"It makes you wonder where her loyalty really is."

Hephaestus sat upright, placing both hands on the table with a slow firmness. His voice was steady but carried a warning. "Aphrodite isn't a traitor. She may avoid war, but she's not siding with Ares or Xena."

Artemis looked at him with a doubtful expression. "Are you sure? Ares is her brother. Family bonds can cloud judgment."

Hephaestus' jaw tightened as his eyes darkened. His voice dropped to a colder tone. "I know my wife. Don't accuse her without proof."

Athena looked between them with an unreadable expression. "Loyal or not, her absence sends a message. If she's not here, she's not helping us."

The room fell silent. Hephaestus leaned forward slightly, his focus unwavering. "Aphrodite keeps her distance from conflicts like this. Don't drag her into it unless you have a reason."

Athena gave a short nod, though her attention lingered on Hephaestus. "For now, we deal with the traitor we know. Ares is the priority."

Aphrodite stood in front of her golden mirror, holding up a flowing pink gown against her body. She frowned and tossed it aside before rummaging through a pile of shimmering fabrics. "No, not enough sparkle. Maybe the darker pink?" she mused, pulling another gown from the pile.

She draped it over herself and struck a pose. "Perfect." Just as she reached for a set of jeweled bangles, the sun caught her eye. "Oh, no!" she gasped, realizing she was late for the council meeting.

With a snap of her fingers, she disappeared, leaving her chaotic wardrobe behind.

She reappeared just outside the hall, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. She paused as the voices of her fellow gods carried through the open doorway. "Ares has crossed the line," Athena's voice rang out sharply.

Aphrodite froze, her heart skipping a beat. She stepped closer to the doorway, her breath catching as she realized the topic of discussion.

"His betrayal is no longer speculation," Athena continued, her tone cold. "It's fact."

Aphrodite's stomach twisted, the weight of the words settling heavily on her. Ares—her brother, her blood—was their target. She felt the pull of loyalty to Olympus, to the gods she had shared eternity with, but it went against her instinct to protect Ares. He may have been reckless, but she loved him.

Her fingers grazed the edge of the doorframe, her heart torn. If she stepped inside, she would be expected to side with them, to condemn Ares. If she stayed silent, she could warn him, give him a chance to prepare for whatever punishment the council might decide.

She took a step back, her decision hovering on a knife's edge. Ares could be infuriating, arrogant, and impossible—but he was still family. And family came first.

Before she could let herself second-guess her choice, she disappeared again, leaving only the faintest trace of perfume in the air as she went to find her brother.

Xena laid motionless on the bed, staring at the fire's flickering glow. His scent lingered on her, faint yet unmistakable. She inhaled sharply and rolled onto her side, burying her face into the crook of her arm. The warmth of the fire did little to chase away the chill that crept into her chest.

Her fingers brushed over her arm and the familiar scent hit her again. It made her stomach churn. She hated how it clung to her, a reminder of everything that had happened. Her mind drifted unwillingly to the way his lips had touched her skin. The thought ignited a surge of anger, burning hotter than the firelight in front of her.

Suddenly, the image slipped into her mind —her leaning in, her lips finding his. She could almost feel the warmth of his mouth again, the way his breath mingled with hers as if they were sharing more than just a kiss. Her tongue licked her lips, the faintest taste of him seeming to linger.

Her chest rose sharply, her breaths quickening as the vividness of the memory pulled her under. She remembered the way her fingers had curled into his hair, tugging slightly, the way his hands had gripped her waist as though she might disappear if he let go. And the taste—gods, the way he tasted, something that had burned itself into her senses.

Without realizing it, her hand pressed against her stomach, her body reacting in ways she wished it wouldn't. Her skin felt hot, her pulse quickening. Even now, alone in the silence of the farmhouse, her body remembered him, responding to the memory as though it was happening all over again.

She gripped the blanket tightly as another fragment surfaced. Hearing the way he whispered her name, rough and low, as though it was the only word that mattered. The firelight catching the hunger in his eyes. The way his lips had brushed against the curve of her neck, leaving a trail of heat. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images only grew stronger, sharper.

Her hand moved to her collarbone, tracing the spot where his mouth had lingered the longest. A slight shiver ran through her, and warmth spread up her neck, her body reacting in ways she couldn't control.

And then it hit her.

She scoffed sharply, the sound breaking through the haze of her thoughts. She rolled onto her side, yanking the blanket higher over her shoulder as if she could block out the fire, the scent, the memories—him.

"What is wrong with me?" she muttered, her voice bitter. Her jaw tightened as she forced the thoughts away. This wasn't who she was. Not anymore.

Then, she thought about that stupid deal. He had claimed her, declaring she was his. But how could she be his? How could she even begin to consider such a thing when she fought against what he stood for? Scumbags like him, his chaos, the destruction he seemed to thrive on. She was no longer the Xena who had once followed his every command, who had struck down anyone who dared to defy her.

No, she couldn't go back to that life. She wouldn't. Not for him, not for anyone. Her hand moved to her stomach. If a child came from this deal, what kind of life could she offer them? What kind of mother could she be, knowing who the father was? She pushed the thought away, her hands tightening around the blanket as she closed her eyes.

A soft knock at the door broke through her thoughts.

"Come in."

Eve stepped inside with light steps and a cautious expression. "Mother?"

Xena turned her head slightly. "You should be resting," she said, her voice flat.

"I could say the same to you," Eve replied, moving closer. She stopped when she reached the bed. The air was heavy with the familiar scent. Her nose twitched, and her stomach turned. She had been around Ares enough to know his scent—the distinct, intoxicating scent of leather, steel, and something else she couldn't name. And it was all over her mother.

Her eyes darted to Xena, and a question burned at the tip of her tongue. What really happened between them? She knew the deal, or at least the part Xena had shared. But Ares' scent was too strong for what little her mother had admitted to. No, there was more—something her mother wasn't saying.

Eve hesitated before sitting on the edge of the bed. "You've been quiet since you got back," she said softly.

Xena's gaze moved back to the fire. "Just tired."

Eve frowned, her voice cautious but steady. "Is it... him? Ares?"

Xena's jaw tightened. "Eve, don't."

"Don't what?" Eve pressed. "Don't worry about you? Don't ask questions I deserve answers to?"

Xena sat up, pulling away from the blanket. "I told you, I'm fine."

Eve leaned forward with concern clear on her face. "You don't have to do this alone, Mother. Whatever you're feeling, whatever this... deal has done to you, we're here. Gabrielle and I, we want to help."

Xena's throat tightened. The words she wanted to say stayed lodged in her chest, caught between anger and something deeper, something she didn't want to name. "I don't need help," she said finally. "I made the choice. I'll handle the consequences."

Eve studied her, searching for any cracks in her mother's iron determination. "You always say that. You always carry everything on your own. But this is different, isn't it?" Her gaze flicked to Xena's hand, now resting against her stomach. "He's in your head. I can see it."

Xena flinched but quickly hid it. "Go to bed, Eve."

Eve hesitated, but the hard edge in her mother's tone left no room for argument. "Goodnight, Mother," she said quietly, standing to leave. She paused at the door, glancing back once more before slipping out into the hallway.

As the door closed, Xena leaned back against the pillows, the weight of Eve's words pressing on her. She stared at the ceiling, her hand brushing absently over her arm where his scent still lingered. Her jaw clenched. She whispered to herself, "Get it together, Xena."

Aphrodite appeared in Ares' temple in a swirl of shimmering light and rose petals. She landed gracefully, her hands on her hips as she scanned the room. Ares was leaning casually against his throne, a goblet in hand, his armor gleaming in the dim light of the torches lining the walls.

"You know, brother," she began with a tone full of irritation, "for someone who's supposedly playing it cool, you're causing quite the uproar."

Ares raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip from his goblet. "Good to see you too, Dite. What's got your corset in a twist this time?"

She rolled her eyes, crossing the room toward him. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that all of Olympus is ready to throw you into Tartarus for your 'betrayal.'" She used air quotes as she emphasized the last word, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Ares smirked, setting the goblet down on the arm of his throne. "Let them try."

Aphrodite let out a huff, her hands dropping to her sides. "You're impossible, you know that? They're furious, Ares. Athena, Artemis, even Hephie—they're all talking about how to deal with you. I heard it myself. You've officially made yourself the enemy of the gods."

"And?" Ares replied, his expression remaining infuriatingly nonchalant. "What else is new?"

She stepped closer, her voice lowering as her frustration rose. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't just about Xena anymore. They think you've completely abandoned Olympus. They think you're a liability."

"Let them think what they want," Ares replied smoothly, his tone filled with amusement. "They've underestimated me before."

Aphrodite threw her hands up, pacing in front of his throne. "Do you even care about what they'll do to you? To her?" She stopped, turning to face him. "Because if you think for one second that they'll leave her out of this, you're delusional."

Ares stood, his towering presence filling the space between them. "You think I haven't thought about that?" he snapped, his tone sharp. "You think I don't know what they're planning?"

She stared at him, momentarily taken back by the heat in his voice. "Then why are you acting like this doesn't matter?" she asked, her voice softer now.

Ares stepped closer, his gaze locking onto hers. "Because it doesn't," he said firmly. "Not in the way you think. Let them come. Let them try. I'm not afraid of Athena or her little council."

Aphrodite shook her head, her frustration turning into exasperation. "You're hopeless."

"Maybe," he said with a shrug, turning back to his throne. "But I'm also right."

She watched him for a moment longer, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she muttered before disappearing in a swirl of rose petals.

Ares sank back into his throne, his smirk fading as he stared into the distance. Despite his bravado, the weight of Aphrodite's words lingered. But if the gods thought they could scare him, they were wrong. He'd made his choice, and he wasn't about to back down now.

Xena tried with all her might to go to sleep. But her mind refused to quiet, the stillness of the farmhouse doing nothing to drown out the storm in her head. She turned onto her back and brushed her hand over the blanket, but the motion only sparked a new wave of frustration.

The scent was still there, faint but maddeningly persistent. She clenched her jaw, her thoughts returning to the temple despite her best efforts to push them away. The firelight on his face, the way his hands had moved over her, the sound of his voice saying her name. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to make the images go away, but they only grew stronger.

She turned onto her side again, the mattress creaking under her as her fist gripped the blanket. Her skin felt hot, her body restless, and her mind continued to torture her. She could hear his laugh, feel the roughness of his stubble against her skin, the press of his lips on hers. Her chest tightened, her breath quickening as she remembered how her hands had moved on their own, pulling him closer, wanting more.

"No," she muttered aloud, the word sharp and angry in the silence. She sat up abruptly, her hands raking through her hair as she tried to calm herself. The cool night air that seeped into the room did little to help. Her skin still burned, her mind still racing.

Her gaze moved to the basin of water on the table, and an idea sparked. A bath. Maybe if she could wash the remnants of him off her skin, if she could feel clean again, she'd be able to find some peace. Her jaw tightened as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing quickly and grabbing her towel.

She moved quietly through the farmhouse, not wanting to wake Gabrielle or Eve. The door creaked slightly as she stepped outside, the chill of the night air biting at her exposed skin. She walked toward the bathhouse with quick and purposeful steps. The stars above offered faint light, their cold brilliance in sharp contrast to the heat still simmering under her skin.

When she entered the small bathhouse, the familiar scent of wood and steam hit her. She set her towel down, her movements brisk as she prepared the bath. As the water filled the tub, the sound was almost soothing, and she focused on it, trying to drown out the relentless memories clawing at her mind.

Stripping off her leathers, she tossed them onto a bench with more force than necessary. Her reflection in the water caught her attention, and she paused, her lips pressing into a thin line. Get it together, Xena, she thought. This isn't who you are anymore.

She stepped into the tub, sinking down until the water covered her shoulders. The heat wrapped around her like a cocoon, but it wasn't enough to ease the tension in her chest. She leaned back, her arms resting on the edges of the tub, her eyes closing as she tried to let the water carry her away from the chaos.

But even in the silence, his voice lingered, a low, maddening echo that she couldn't escape. What is wrong with me? she thought, her jaw tightening as she rested her arms on the edge of the tub. Her mind turned against her, pulling her back to moments she wished she could forget. The way his warm body felt on top of hers. The way he had whispered her name, not in command but with something almost like admiration. Her chest tightened as a frustrated growl slipped from her lips.

He's in your head, Xena, she told herself. That's what he does. Twists things, makes you question yourself. But no matter how much she tried to dismiss it, the memories wouldn't leave. Her body burned in a way that had nothing to do with the water.

She splashed her face, trying to calm the storm inside her, when a soft light filled the room. Xena's eyes snapped open, and her hands darted for her chakram and sword lying beside the tub. She stood halfway, water sloshing over the edges as she aimed the chakram at the figure in front of her.

"Aphrodite," she hissed.

The goddess raised her hands, palms out in a gesture of peace. "Whoa, warrior babe! I'm not here to fight."

"Then why are you here?" Xena's grip didn't loosen. "I'm not exactly in the mood for a visit."

Aphrodite's expression softened, her usual air of playful mischief replaced with something more sincere. "I just wanted to say... no matter what happens, Xena, you'll always be my friend."

Xena blinked, lowering the chakram slightly but not dropping her guard. "Friend?" she repeated suspiciously.

Aphrodite nodded, her gaze steady. "I know things are... complicated right now."

Before Xena could respond, the light around Aphrodite grew brighter. With a small, almost sad smile, the goddess disappeared, leaving only the faintest shimmer of gold in the air.

Xena stared at the empty space, her grip tightening on the chakram as she sank back into the tub. Her brow creased as she processed the unexpected visit that left her thoughts spinning. What was that supposed to mean?

She leaned back against the tub, the water now lukewarm against her skin. Aphrodite's words lingered, just as confusing as the rest of her life seemed to be. For once, she didn't know whether to feel comforted or more on edge.

The smell of bread and eggs filled the kitchen as Gabrielle moved quietly, rolling up her sleeves. Morning light came through the windows, adding a soft glow to the room. Eve sat at the table, peeling an apple. Her eyes occasionally shifted toward the door, as if waiting.

When Xena finally entered, her steps were slower than usual, but her face was calmer than it was the night before. Gabrielle looked up from the stove and smiled gently. "Morning, Xena," she said in a soft voice.

Eve looked up too. "Did you sleep okay?" she asked.

Xena shrugged as she sat down at the table. "I'm here. That's something," she said, her tone dry but not mean.

Gabrielle laughed lightly and brought over a plate of food. "I'll take it," she said, setting the plate in front of Xena. "Eat. It'll help."

Xena looked at the plate for a moment, then picked up a piece of bread. Eve slid the bowl of apple slices closer to her mother, her actions quiet and careful. The room felt lighter, the tension from the night before replaced by a sense of peace. Gabrielle took her seat across from Xena, picking at her own plate. "You seem a little better this morning," she said after a moment.

Xena took a bite of the bread, chewing slowly before she spoke. "Trying," she said simply.

Eve smiled faintly. "That's good," she said, focusing back on her apple slices.

For a while, they ate in silence. The sound of forks and knives against plates was the only noise in the room, a soothing rhythm that matched the warmth of the morning.

And then—

"Good morning, baby!"

Ares appeared out of nowhere, dropping into the empty seat next to Xena with a grin as wide as the sea. Gabrielle's cup of tea slipped from her hands, clattering onto the table, while Eve choked on her piece of apple.

"What in Tartarus—" Gabrielle started, her eyes wide as she stared at the God of War lounging casually in their kitchen.

Ares leaned back in the chair, his grin wide and unapologetic. "What? Don't all families have breakfast together?"

Xena glared at him, her jaw tightening. "What are you doing here?"

"Eating breakfast with my lovely warrior princess," Ares said casually, reaching for a piece of bread. "You didn't save me a plate? I'm hurt."

Gabrielle's eyes narrowed as she looked between Xena and Ares. "Why is he here, Xena? I thought the deal was over."

Xena's fists clenched against the table. "So did I."

Ares leaned closer, throwing a smug arm around Xena's waist. "Oh, come on now. Don't act so cold, sweetheart. I told you—this isn't just a one-night arrangement."

Gabrielle and Eve exchanged a stunned look. "What does he mean, 'not just a one-night arrangement'?" Gabrielle asked.

Xena threw off Ares' arm, standing abruptly. "Ares, don't—"

"Don't what?" he interrupted, his grin widening as he leaned back in his chair. "Don't remind them of the full terms of our little agreement? The part where you agreed to be with me?"

Gabrielle's face drained of color. "Be with you?" she echoed. "What does that even mean?"

Xena's breathing quickened, her fists tightening at her sides as Ares continued, unfazed by her tension. "Oh, come on, Gabrielle," he said smoothly. "Surely you didn't think the deal was just about one baby? Xena agreed to be mine. Completely. And that means we're going to be spending a lot of quality time together."

Eve stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You can't be serious," she said, her voice sharp and disbelieving.

Xena's voice was low, filled with frustration. "Eve, listen—"

"No, I won't listen!" Eve snapped, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "You told me you made this deal to protect us. But this?" She gestured toward Ares, her eyes blazing. "This is something else entirely."

Ares leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his expression still smug. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. Your mother and I are just... fulfilling the terms of our arrangement."

Eve's gaze turned back to Xena, her voice trembling with anger. "How could you?"

"Eve—"

"I can't do this," Eve said, her voice cracking as she turned and stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

Gabrielle stared at Xena, her mouth slightly open in shock. "You agreed to this?" she whispered. "Xena, what were you thinking?"

Ares chuckled, breaking the tension as he leaned back in his chair. "She was thinking about saving you two, obviously. And maybe a little about me." He winked at Xena, but her glare only deepened.

"Get out, Ares," Xena said, her voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, come on," he said, spreading his arms in surrender. "Don't be like that. I'm just living in the moment. Isn't that what we're supposed to do?"

"Ares," she said through clenched teeth, stepping closer to him. "Out."

He stood, adjusting his leather cuffs as he smirked at her. "Fine, I'll leave. For now. But don't get too comfortable—I'm not going far."

And with that, he disappeared, leaving the kitchen in silence.

Gabrielle sank back into her chair, her hand running over her face. "Xena," she said finally, her voice tired and tinged with disbelief, "what in the gods' name have you gotten us into?"

Xena didn't answer. She stared at the empty chair where Ares had sat, her jaw tight as the weight of his words—and the deal—pressed heavier than ever.