Page 60 of The Coven of Ruin
Do you want my hands on you?
Bringing both of her arms up, she pushed Ares away from her. His abs flexed beneath her palms, resisting before he took a step back. But only a step.He’s still too close.
“You don’t care.” At another time, her tone probably would have been full of anger, but at that moment, she just sounded defeated.
His intense gaze never left her face. “I care,” he ground out, “if this is a result of you working with me.”
Of course. Trista swallowed hard. “I was walking back to my room from the library when someone pulled me into a dark alcove.”
Unsatisfied with the response, he waited for her to continue. She shrugged one shoulder. His jaw ticked, and his lips pressed together. She could feel the heat coming from him, see the gilded rage in his eyes.
“What. Happened?” Each word was clipped.
She considered how much to tell him as she ran her hands over the fabric of the tunic. Telling Ares may be the only way to keep her friends safe. Illean had proven that he didn’t think things through nearly as much as he should. And though he was strong and violent, Areswasstrength and violence.
“If I tell you,” she said carefully, “I have two conditions.”
“Speak them,” Ares commanded.
“You have to promise you’ll keep my friends safe. He threatened their lives.” She stood up straighter. “And I want something else in return. A truth. Or a piece of armor more like.”
His eyes tracked her movement as she side-stepped away from him. “Is that how you think battle is waged? Armor for armor?”
“But this”—she gestured between them—“isn’t a battle.”
“Is it not?”
Perhaps it was. Perhaps it always had been.
He considered her with a dark scrutiny. “Name him.”
“Say you accept first,” Trista countered.
Ares seemed to struggle to gather patience, his chest expanding with a deep breath. “I accept.” The words were bit out through clenched teeth.
“Illean,” she said on an exhale. Naming him was condemning him. She could see it in the way his hands flexed into fists, the way death was carved into taut muscle. “He wants me to get his knife back from you, or he’ll kill my friends. Or have someone else kill them, and I can’t lose them.” She struggled with saying it out loud. “And he seems to think we are lovers, and therefore, I would have access to you and his knife. I’m supposed to meet him after the ceremony. He gave me the location.” The words tumbled out of her as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear.
“Where?”
“Here.” She stepped around him to grab the rumpled parchment.
Pivoting, he took the sheet from her. His lips moved as he read over it before pushing it into a pocket. “And as for your second stipulation?” A barely restrained rage caressed his features. And even though she knew it wasn’t directed at her, it gave her pause.
“This isn’t the condition, but you can’t kill him. You know—“
“What armor do you want?”
Her gaze traveled from golden depths to soft lips set into a hard line, to the way he was holding himself. He was all power, all god of war.
He is the Witchbane,logic condemned. That didn’t matter, not for what she wanted. She stepped toward him, and he marked the movement with only a flicker of surprise. Another step placed her so close that her breasts brushed against his lower stomach. Need smoldered within her. Nipples tightening, she almost felt embarrassed as his gaze traveled to her chest and back up.
If she ever thought she had seen him tense, it was nothing to what he looked like at that moment. Eyes darkening, a hitched breath, lips parting as if he was fighting the desire to breathe her in. She slowly moved a hand up and placed it on his chest, over the wound—and his heart. The beat was steadfast. Sturdy. Just like the god it was housed in.
He was beautiful in the way dangerous things often are. Alluring, he called to ancient parts of her that she no longer had the language for. And she wondered what would happen if she heeded that call. What would happen if she let herself know that language?
He closed his eyes at her touch, but when they focused on her again, they were carefully guarded. “Ask it.” Ares’ voice came out husky and low. And still, he didn’t touch her.
Something halted the request in her lungs before it could be released. Once the words left her mouth, she wouldn’t be able to unsay her desire. He would know too much of her. Holding his stare, she offered him a soft smile instead as she pulled her hand away from over his heart.
