“Maybe we shouldn’t have gone through with it.” Her voice tightened with each word and Daimon could sense her mounting panic.
Ares’s face crumpled and he took hold of her arm, gently pulled her to him and settled his left arm around her trembling shoulders as he placed his right hand on her belly. He rubbed it gently between her hands.
“Don’t talk like that, baby. This is a blessing. Nothing will happen to the baby. Nothing will happen to you. I swear it. I love you both.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead.
“I’m fat,” Megan muttered, the panic Daimon could feel in her washing away as she sagged against Ares.
Ares smiled softly, his eyes warmed by love. “You’ve never been so sexy. You’re beautiful.”
Daimon looked away, unable to bear it. He felt Cass’s eyes on him, but refused to look at her, kept his head down so he didn’t have to see anyone. He couldn’t bring himself to look at them, not when the rage he had been holding on to for centuries still wanted an outlet.
Not when it hurt so much he couldn’t breathe.
A single fear consumed him, tearing down his walls, ripping him to pieces and stoking the rage.
That his brother was going to suffer the same painful fate as he had.
Chapter 13
Enyo didn’t take her eyes off the sun-kissed terracotta roofs of the white city that sprawled below her on the side of Mount Olympus as her brother swept into the room, the gentle patter of feet that accompanied the heavier thuds of his boots telling her that his usual entourage was with him. Ares didn’t go anywhere without at least four attendants, all of them female.
They prattled on as they hurried after him, taking two strides for each one of his as he briskly walked across the colourful mosaic floor of the main room of their house.
She frowned at the world beyond the window.
His house.
The fact the mosaic featured only him amidst the glory of an ancient battle, a war in which she had fought beside him together with Eris and her siblings, would have made it clear he viewed the palatial white marble building where she lived as his home even if he hadn’t told her that a million times to her face.
Women and men dressed in fine clothing drifted along the cobbled street far below the promontory of pale rock upon which Ares’s grand temple and home stood. A trio of females dressed in elegant pale blue, soft pink and lilac dresses halted beneath one of the towering cypress trees that lined the broad road and glanced up, their gazes lingering as they bent their heads towards each other.
No doubt speaking about the man of the house.
The scent of ambrosia permeated the air as she heard the slosh of liquid behind her. Ares grunted and slammed a hand against the furniture, most likely the finely crafted wooden sideboard that acted as his bar.
“This batch is good.” He refilled his goblet as she turned her side to the window, adjusting her position on the elegant blue velvet chaise longue that was her favourite perch.
He strode into view.
Sunlight streamed in through the window where she sat, bathing his tanned skin as he came to a halt in front of her. The warm rays glinted off the gold plates of his greaves and vambraces, and the pointed slats that hung from his thick gold belt. The white leather those slats were mounted on and the pale blue cloth that hung beneath them to hide his upper thighs and give him a modicum of dignity were both splattered with crimson.
Her brother had been brawling again.
She idly toyed with the three braids on the left side of her long black hair, pretending she hadn’t noticed that he had been off getting into fights and whoring himself while she had been left to do the work at the temple.
Greeting and tending to pilgrims who had come to see him, and who were inevitably disappointed to be seen by her instead.
The twittering group of ‘aides’ that constantly followed him lingered just beyond him, watching him closely. She didn’t recognise some of their faces. Her brother had an appetite for war and for sex, and the whole of Olympus knew that securing a position within his circle of attendants was a sure-fire way of getting bedded by him. She swore he went through a new set of aides every week, discarding and replacing them when he grew bored of what they had to offer.
Sometimes, she was sure her brother didn’t have a heart to give, or perhaps he had already given it to himself.
The golden-haired male grinned at her, his blue eyes brightening with it.
She waited, because he obviously had something he wanted to tell her and he wanted her to ask him about it—playing the doting sister—and she wasn’t really in the mood today.
When she said nothing, he shoved his gold goblet at one of the females and unlatched his rich blue cloak. It dropped to the mosaic floor and another attendant was swift to stoop and gather it into her arms before backing away from him.
Ares grumbled as he unfastened the leather straps of his golden chest piece, removed it and inspected a dent in the moulded metal that had been crafted to mimic his body. A body he now proudly displayed as he turned to his aides, causing a wave of blushing and heated glances at his muscular torso.
“Take this to the blacksmith. I want it repaired immediately.” His deep voice rolled through the room with authority as he held his breastplate out with one hand and snatched his goblet back with the other. “Leave us.”
All four females immediately obeyed.
Ares lapped it up, his twisted smirk telling her how much he enjoyed having the females do his bidding without question, leaping to execute whatever order he gave them.
When his blue gaze shifted back to her, that satisfied edge melted into something akin
