Everett props himself up on his elbows, his hair sticking to his forehead and his mouth curved in something halfway between pride and irritation. “You’ve gotten mean in your old age.”
“You’re mean at any age,” I counter, playfully swatting at his shoulder.
We’re close—closer than we probably should be. The air between us tightens, the tension in it sharper than any sword we’ve trained with. His hazel gaze lingers on me, steady and unreadable in a way it never used to be when we were kids.
I’m about to say something—something dumb, probably, or reckless—when the hairs on the back of my neck lift.
I turn my head slowly, my heart already beating faster for reasons that have nothing to do with the spar.
Ares stands at the edge of the training floor, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches. He’s been doing that more and more often—watching us.
Watchingme.
His presence is always accompanied by a prickle of awareness and a dozen alarm bells. I know I shouldn’t be afraid—this is Ares, for fuck’s sake, who’s practically our foster father—but still.
I move away from Everett like I’ve been caught doing something wrong.
Ares doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. His eyes are as unreadable as they’ve always been—steel behind glass.
Everett follows my gaze, his eyes narrowing. “How long has he been standing there?”
“No idea.” I climb to my feet and brush off my pants, my pulse still thrumming.
Fuck, I need to stop being so paranoid. Ares is probably just gauging my progress, as all the gods and goddesses are doing. He wants to make sure I don’t drag the team down.
It’s been ten years since I started training with them all, and he still doesn’t trust me.
“Come on,” Everett whispers, jumping to his feet. “Let’s continue training.”
“Yeah,” I respond shakily.
I glance over my shoulder, but Ares is gone.
If Everett didn’t see him as well, I would’ve thought I imagined him in the first place.
“You wanted to see me?”I ask, knocking on the door to Ares’s office.
It’s my twenty-first birthday, and the guys told me they have something planned for tonight. I want to get this meeting over with as quickly as possible.
“Yes, come in,” he calls, his voice slightly breathless.
I step inside, my hands clasped behind my back.
“Did something happen—” I cut myself off as I take in the sight before me.
Ares sits on his office chair, his hand wrapped around his erect dick as he strokes himself.
My eyes widen, and I release a strangled, choking sound.
A wicked grin curves up Ares’s lips, and he begins to move his hand even faster. “You like this? Fuck. All I can think about is how good your pussy would feel wrapped around my cock. Goddamn.”
Horror and disgust mingle in my stomach, but I can’t look away. It’s as if I’m watching two trains approaching from opposite directions and am helpless to stop the inevitable collision.
“Touch your tits, Winnie. Let me see you.”
I just stand there, gawking, and Ares explodes with a roar, ropes of cum covering his shirt.
It’s only then that I get the courage to spin around and race out of the room.
