Library

Sleep had eluded her, and the villa’s silence pressed too heavy against her chest. Drawn by curiosity, or perhaps by restlessness, Lily had found her way into Ares’ library. The lamps burned low, their golden light painting the towering shelves in shadows. Leather, parchment, and smoke scented the air. It was an intoxicating blend of knowledge and danger. Every corner of the vast chamber seemed to whisper of secrets. The faintest trace of his burning embers clung to the air, as if the God of War’s presence lingered even when he was away.

She moved between the dark towering shelves on silent feet, fingertips trailing across the gilded spines. The sheer volume startled her; she hadn’t expected his private collection to rival Athena’s archives. She plucked one at random, curiosity outweighing caution, when a voice broke the hush.

“Looking for inspiration, Muse?”

Her breath caught, the book nearly slipping from her hands. She turned slowly. Ares leaned in the doorway, his white button-up shirt open at the throat, his frame backlit by lamplight. His gaze was sharp, predatory, the faintest curl of amusement on his lips.

“I didn’t think you were the scholarly type,” Lily said, clutching the book to her chest like a shield. Her voice came out lighter than she intended.

He pushed off the frame and prowled inside. “You imagine me all blood and steel? You wound me.”

“Your reputation precedes you,” she countered, chin tilting. “Libraries don’t usually feature in battlefield reports.”

Ares circled a table, his steps slow, deliberate. The air shifted with his presence, hot and electric, until it curled against her skin. “A general reads more than he fights. Strategy, history, philosophy. Poetry.” His eyes caught hers, gleaming like steel in firelight. “Even the work of the muses, when he can get close enough.”

Her cheeks flamed despite herself. “You can’t possibly have read all these,” she gestured and turned to look at the seemingly endless shelves. 

“Every one,” he murmured, stopping just behind her. Heat radiated from him, the faint rasp of his breath brushing her curls though he hadn’t touched her. “You think I don’t hunger for knowledge the way I do for war?”

Lily stiffened, nails biting into the leather cover she held. “Knowledge doesn’t bleed.”

He chuckled low, the sound sliding through her bones. His arm lifted, reaching past her to pull a book from the shelf above her head. The brush of his sleeve near her temple made her breath falter. His scent closed around her. His embers, cedar, and the faint tang of leather seemed to seep into her skin.

She forced a wry smile, though her pulse betrayed her. “I didn’t realize midnight library access came with a guard dog.”

He leaned closer, his mouth so near she felt the words stir against her ear. “Guard dog? No. Wolves don’t guard, little Muse, they hunt. And you’ve wandered straight into my den. What did you think would happen?”

Her heart thundered. Threads of her magic stirred wildly, tugging toward him, sparking at the edges of his smoke. The air vibrated, sharp with heat. She turned and tipped her chin up, daring his gaze though her body trembled. “Predators don’t usually announce themselves.”

His smile curved, slow and dangerous, revealing just enough teeth to make her stomach tighten. “I like my prey to know.” His hand hovered near her hip, not touching, but so close her skin tingled with imagined contact.

The silence stretched, molten and heavy, every breath thick with want and warning. For a heartbeat, she thought he might close the distance entirely. Her lips parted, whether to protest or to yield, she couldn’t say.

Then, suddenly, he stepped back, the heat of him leaving like a flame snuffed out. He pressed the book into her hands, his fingers brushing hers just long enough to sting. “Enjoy your studies.”

He strode toward the door without another word, the predator re-leashed. Lily clutched the book, heart hammering, her breath shallow. Embers still smoldered in the air, clinging to her skin, as though he’d branded her without even a touch.