Ares (Contemporary Mythos Book 3)

I went to bed that night with a tornado of feelings that refused to make sense battling each other—confusion, lust, inspiration, anger. Even with Ares’s body snuggled behind me, his scent sending a wave of calm over my skin, I lay awake for what seemed hours.

“Finally. I thought you’d never fall asleep. Mortals and their puny brains in constant use.” A woman’s deep, raspy voice spoke from somewhere in the darkness of the room.

I tensed and sat up, staring down at myself very much asleep.

“Yes, you’re still sleeping.” The mysterious woman’s outline barely stood out from the blackness spilling over the room, sitting on the corner of the desk with her legs crossed, the top one bouncing.

Storming from the bed, I clenched my fists at my side. “Who the hell are you?”

She slunk from the shadows, stepping into the sliver of light from the moon peeking through the curtains. “Eris. Goddess of Discord.” Her black hair fell in waves down to her knees, streaks of vibrant red scattered throughout. “I’d say the pleasure is all mine, but this anything but a courtesy call.” Her eyes were midnight pools. No iris. No pupil. Only pure sin forged into a visual orb within her skull.

Every fiber of my being screamed this chick was bad news, but try as I might catapult at her, it was as if an invisible shield rose between us. “How are you in my dreams?”

She traced black pointy fingernails twice the length of her finger down the leather corset hugging her thin torso. “Morpheus owed me a favor. Besides, it’s the only way I could talk to you without my lug of a brother butting in.” She flicked her hand at Ares’s slumbering body, making the nails click together.

“You have thirty seconds before I’m entirely bored of this conversation.”

She made a clicking sound with her teeth. “Down, tigress. I’m simply here to make you think about your next move.”

I fake yawned.

Her high-heeled boots made holey impressions in the carpet as she sauntered to the side of the bed, leaning over Ares. My blood boiled, going on the defense. Sleep made him vulnerable.

“By Olympus—” She took a whiff of the air over the two of us sleeping before she canted her head at me. “A fated bond. I didn’t think such a thing existed for our kind anymore.”

“How could you possibly know that? Ares even barely knows what it is.”

She made her way back to me, crossing one foot over the other. The black skin-tight leggings shifted with every step. Lowering her nose to my neck, she took a deep inhale. “Because you reek of it—of him.”

My knuckles groaned as I clenched them harder at my sides. I wanted to tackle her to the ground and beat the red highlights from her skull. “Is there a point to this?”

“There’s only one way the two of you could be together.” Her thin dark brows rose. “He is immortal after all.”

My throat constricted and dried at the same time. I’d been so wrapped up in his declaration there’d hardly been time to come to grips with what he truly was.

“Didn’t think about that one, did you?” She scraped a nail over my cheek with a sigh, her hand slipping through the invisible shield she put up. “And how selfish would it be for the God of War to ask you to become something you’re not? That you were never meant to be?”

My lip twitched, attempting to mask the indecision she caused.

She trailed her claws down my arm, puckering her wine-stained lips before continuing. “You were born a mortal. You’ve made a life for yourself as a mortal. And you’re expected to give it all up for what? A guy?”

I tightened my jaw, making it quiver.

“Live your life, Harmony.” She tilted her head over my shoulder, her breath chilling against my skin. “Grow old with your family and friends, so you don’t have to watch them die.”

Family. It goes to show how much she knew about me.

I shifted my eyes to Ares, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept so soundlessly—peacefully. The God of War. My war god.

She slid a sleek fingernail under my chin, turning my gaze back to her. “Do you want to be the woman born to be Ares’s plaything? Or do you want to make a name for yourself?”

Her words stung. My lip twitched as I tried to hide my expression. The moonlight gave Eris’s pale skin an iridescent sheen, and I focused on it.

“Why don’t you cut through the bullshit and tell me why you’re really here?” I stepped forward, bouncing off thin air with a grimace. “You’re the goddess of causing trouble, so why are you so keen on warning me? Out of the goodness of your cold black heart?”

Her face scrunched, and she wriggled her long nails. “Ooo, such sass.” She shot her arm out, snatching my face and tightening her grip. “You’re not strong enough to be one of us, girl.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me.” I tried to pull away, but she held firm.

“Don’t I?” She arched a thin brow. “You are a fragile flower dangerously close to withering in the wind. Such brittleness has no place amongst the war gods.”

“And the truth comes out.”

She hissed as she brought our faces inches apart.

“Were you like this as a kid too? Horrible with sharing?” I clenched my jaw to keep it from shaking.

She scratched a nail down my cheek as she yanked her hand away with a snarl. “We do not need another war god and you least of all. Go back to your mortal life. Forget him. Don’t let Ares cloud your judgment just because he can give you a good fuck.”

I threw my fist back, ready to strike, but let out an angry growl remembering the shield that’d stop me. “Are you done?” I shot my eyes to hers, nostrils flaring.

Laughter fluttered from her belly, husky and downright criminal. “I’ve said all I needed to say. Remember it in the days to come.” She half-grinned, revealing pointy canine teeth.

In a flash of embers and lightning, she was gone, and I jolted awake with a gasp. Surveying the room, I reassured myself she wasn’t there. But every moment spent with her embedded itself under my skin like a parasite.

“Bad dream?” Ares murmured beside me, his large hand slipping over my thigh.

“You know how it is.”

He grunted. “That I do. Come here.” He opened his arms wide and inviting.

I settled against him, curling my hands over my chest.

He dragged a finger over the fresh scrape on my cheek. “What happened there?”

“It’s just a scratch, must’ve done it myself in my sleep.” I offered a weak smile.

Eris’s visit played like an old-time film reel in the back of my mind, but I’d sift through it another time. For now, I’d nuzzle into the warmth of the war god sprawled out on the sheets, waiting to wrap himself around me. His beard grazed the back of my neck as he molded himself to my backside, and I fell asleep intoxicated by the scents of leather and chaos.

I was up before the sun, sitting on the edge of the bed, tracing every spot on the carpet Eris’s heels had touched. The more I thought about her words, the more confused and pissed off I became.

Ares grumbled behind me. “You’re up early. What happened to rest for the fight?”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“This fight is in the bag, gatáki. You have nothing to worry about.” He brushed my arm.

I batted his hand away and stood. “You can’t expect me to give up my life. You know that, right?”

Ares’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “What? Who said anything about—”

“How am I supposed to know if any piece of my life has ever been my own?” I slapped a hand over my forehead. “I mean, was I meant to be yours from the moment I was conceived? Born? Turned eighteen?”

His once softened expression turned to stone. “Vlákas, Harm. Where is this coming from?” He stood, rolling his shoulders back.

I tried to ignore the sight of him standing there in only a pair of black boxers—the wide frame, chiseled muscle…

Turning my back on him, I folded my arms, clamping my hands at my sides. “I’m so confused. For the first time in my life, something felt right. Felt…in place. But how can something feel so complete and so disjointed all at the same time?”

“It’s not how it works.”

“What?” I regretted the scowl I gave him over my shoulder as soon as I’d done it.

“A fated bond? If you truly were born for me, Harmony, it’d be the same of me, for you.”

My eyes darted in every direction as if they tried to piece together the jigsaw puzzle floating in my brain. “Then why wasn’t I born an immortal to begin with?”

He beat his knuckles against the opposite palm. “You’d be a different person. And I’m a lot to handle.”

“I’m no walk in the park, Ares.”

His eyes fell shut with a masculine purr when I said his name. “Let me take you somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Greece.”

“Greece? That’s halfway across the world we’d have to f—”

He appeared in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “We won’t have to fly.”

“You can teleport that far?”

A silent nod. His eyes pierced me, trying to dig through the confusion I exuded.

“Okay,” I whispered.

The word no sooner left my lips, and we were in the middle of an open-air marketplace. Pillars surrounded us on every side, scents of freshly baked bread and olives floated through the air. The sun beamed from the cloudless blue sky. We stood in our regular clothes, our appearance blending in with the rest of the Greek crowd.

Ares draped his arm over my shoulders, his leather jacket accentuating his scent. “I brought you here to relax. No one is asking you to do something or anything. But every Greek should experience the country. Open yourself to her.”

I’d expected Ares to be rigid under my touch in public—for a permanent scowl to overtake his features. He had a reputation to uphold, didn’t he? But now and again, he’d soften for me. Me. The fact I knew he could kill dozens of men, monsters, or anything else that crossed his path, drove me wild. But knowing at the end of the day, his harsh overtone could transform into a feather-like touch pushed me over the edge.

“Somehow, this feels right. It feels like—home.”

Ares gave my neck a quick kiss before holding his finger up at a nearby vendor.

“Kaliméra,” they both exchanged.

“Póso kostízei?” He asked the clerk and dropped his lips to my ear. “How much does it cost?”

I smiled and mouthed the words back to myself. The vendor had rows of brown circular dough with a glaze.

“Dío,” the vendor answered, holding up two fingers.

Dio meant two. That one was easy enough to understand.

Ares slipped a colorful bill from his back pocket. He pointed at the dough and swished his finger back and forth. “Záchari. Záchari.”

The vendor flashed a bright smile. “Nái.” He grabbed a metal container and sprinkled powdered sugar over the dough, wrapping them in wax paper.

Ares handed me one, and I blanched at the sight of him acting so…normal.

“Loukoumades. Greek donuts.”

I took a bite and all but salivated. Cinnamon. Honey. And the perfect amount of fried crunch.

“Ares has a sweet tooth. Who knew?” I covered my mouth with a hand, still chewing on the delicious dough. “Oh shit. I shouldn’t be saying that name.”

He waved his hand. “As páne sto diáblo.”

I arched a brow.

“They can go to hell,” he snorted.

We strolled the brick-lined walkways of the marketplace. The sun continued to blaze, and I tried to imagine what an ancient agora would’ve looked like in comparison. “Do the other gods go by aliases?”

“Most of them, yes.” He shoved the rest of the donut in his mouth and licked the remaining sugar from his thumb.

My stomach clenched, spying his tongue lapping over his fingertip. “Do they uh—do they all use the Greek accent?”

“No.” He balled his wax paper into his hand. “It’s the most obvious, but they all do their own thing. I do mine.”

I stared at the scattering of powdered sugar in his beard at the corner of his mouth. Biting my lip, I pointed and tried not to laugh. “It looks like it’s snowing. On your face.”

He tilted his eyes down like he could see it and then lurched forward, wiping his face against my mouth.

I laughed and pushed at his chest. He pulled me against him and licked the corner of my mouth, ridding it of sugar. I beamed up at him, still somehow laughing. I’d never smiled so much in my life.

It was almost enough to make me forget about Eris. Almost.

“How are you like this? With so much fury inside you and barely able to use your powers to unleash it? You’re here in a marketplace acting like a mortal.” I bit my lip. “I can barely manage to act like a mortal on any given day.”

He sighed, brushing his lips across my forehead before resting his chin on the top of my head. “It’s hard to explain. I feel a sort of—peace with you at times.”

A man brushed past us, slamming into my shoulder from behind.

Ares’s gaze turned feral, eyes glowing red. He slammed his forehead into the unknowing man’s face.

Fuck.

I jumped forward, clamping my hand on the man’s nose to stop the bleeding. “You’re fine. You’ll be fine. Not even broken, just—” Grabbing the man’s hand, I switched mine for his. “Keep pressure.”

The man was far too terrified of the towering war god standing next to me growling to complain. He shrieked and ran off. Several patrons stared at us, whispering and pointing. I grabbed his bicep and led him to a quieter area, away from the hustle and bustle of people haggling and shoving money in every direction.

“Peace, huh?” A goofy grin spread across my lips.

His eyebrow bounced. “I did say, ‘at times.’ It’s different when someone tries to hurt you.”

“He bumped into me.”

“Semantics.”

“Come on, you raging inferno, let’s sit down.” I pointed at a white bench nestled under a shaded tree.

Ares sat rigid with his hands curled over his knees. At any other moment, the sight may have been amusing. But now, I’d begun to understand. There was this constant rage in him. An urge to protect, serve, and never lose. It must’ve been exhausting being at two-hundred percent, one-hundred percent of the time.

A kitten scurried past our feet, a little girl shrieking, following its trail. Her small hands were outstretched, tripping over the occasional cobblestone that stuck out from the rest. “Gatáki,” the girl cried as she passed us.

I slowly turned my head to Ares with narrowed eyes. “Kitten? That’s what you’ve been calling me this entire time?”

“Is that what the word means? I thought it meant pool sludge.” He eyed me sidelong, a hint of a smile hidden within the scattering of hair around his mouth.

“You’re lucky. If it’d been coming out of anyone else’s mouth, I’d—”

“You’d what?” He swooped in, wrapping his arms around my upper and lower back, pressing his nose against mine.

“I’d—I’d.”

No one else. No one had ever rendered me speechless.

“Tell me about your life, Harm,” he spoke against my cheek.

“And why would someone like you care anything about my shit show of a life?”

He leaned back, interlacing our fingers on his lap. “Someone like me?”

“Someone who represents destruction, battling, war?”

“And victory. And courage. And protection.” The rage within his eyes settled, a serenity shadowing his gaze. “There’s no way you could know how it feels to have a mortal woman look at you with anything but hatred. I couldn’t even say the same thing for most of my family.”

Telling him about my life was a dark hole I wasn’t sure I wanted to crawl into. These past few days with him made me forget my past existed. Days. How was it possible to feel this way about someone in a matter of days when I barely had love from a parent.

“Alright.” I lifted one foot onto the bench.

He brushed a thumb over my knuckles.

“With how long you’ve been around, I’m sure you’ve heard this story thousands of times.”

“Impossible,” he responded, dropping his voice an octave.

I quirked a brow.

“None of them were you.”

Heart. Squeezed.

“My mom was single. Got around a lot. Mostly because she didn’t make much money as a waitress and needed a way to get her fix.”

A falcon flew overhead, cawing before it swooped up to the roof of a nearby building.

“Cocaine was her drug of choice, even did it while pregnant with me. It’s a wonder I’m still alive.”

Ares squeezed my hand, remaining silent but reminding me he was still there.

“She told me giving birth to me was one of the most painful experiences of her life. Is it horrible that I’m glad I gave her that much pain?”

“No,” he gruffed.

I tilted my head back, letting the sun warm my cheeks. “She swore up and down that a muse appeared. They sang to her for inspiration—to soothe her. I didn’t believe her at the time. But now I wonder if it was true.”

“It’s possible. If I had to guess, it wasn’t for your mother so much as it was for you.”

My head snapped back down. “What do you mean?”

“To make sure you existed.” His eyelids grew heavy.

“She did say it’s the reason she named me Harmony.” My voice disappeared into the distance.

He brushed a finger across one side of my jaw, then the other. “Keep going, gatáki.”

“From what I can remember, my mom was rarely home. And when she was, she was too high to function half the time. Imagine a four-year-old taking care of themselves. A human one that is.”

He stayed silent.

“I remember the look on my uncle’s face when I opened the door, and he realized I was home alone.” I stared at our hands locked together. “He was the reason I didn’t turn out even more fucked up than I already am.”

“You? Vlaménos? Far from it.” He waved a hand down his body, referencing himself with a cocked brow.

I shook my head with a small grin. “When my uncle died is when the anger issues started. Without my mom to care about it, I got into a lot of trouble at school. One of my teachers, Ms. Hestia, for whatever reason, took me under her wing.”

“In what way?”

“In more ways than a teacher should. She made sure I had enough food, bought me school supplies, shoes. She even signed me up for my first martial arts class.” Suddenly the cracks in the cobblestones interested me.

“What’s the matter?”

“I honestly hadn’t remembered her until right now. A woman who went above and beyond for me.” My grip tightened around his hand.

“Harmony,” he said, keeping his voice soft.

I looked up at him like a doe caught in headlights.

“If I were human, you’d have broken a finger by now.” He jutted his chin at our hands.

I let go with a gasp, clapping my hands over my mouth.

“Harm, what’s the matter?” He rested a hand on my bicep, idly kneading it.

“Hestia. Isn’t she a goddess?” I asked through the muffling of my hands.

He curled a single finger over mine and dragged them away from my face. “Yes.”

“Do you think it was her?”

He canted his head to the side. “We’ve already established there’s some kind of connection with you and our world.”

A man bumped into my foot as he squeezed past us to the courtyard.

Ares played his seething gaze on the clumsy mortal. Before I could mutter the word ‘baklava’, Ares stood up.

“Ares,” I murmured, touching his forearm with my fingertips.

His eyes, ablaze with red, snapped down to me.

“I think your tolerance for the public is done for the day. Let’s get back.” I stood up, keeping my tone cool and even.

The longer he looked at me, and the more pronounced my grip on his arm became, the more the tension and fury in him thawed. He pressed a hand against my upper back, ushering us to a deserted alleyway. With one hand on my shoulder and the other on my hip, he transported us back to America.

Later that evening, I stared at a black smudge on the tiled floor of the locker room, lost in my thoughts. My fingers subconsciously did and undid the Velcro strap of my glove.

“We’ll figure it out.” Ares leaned against one of the lockers with his arms folded over his chest.

My eyes lifted to meet his. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

He frowned and took a step forward. “I’d never ask you to do it, Harm.”

“Why?” A pit formed in my stomach.

He froze. “What do you mean?”

“You say we have this fated bond. That you never thought it’d happen to you. You know the only way we can be together, so why wouldn’t you ask me?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, idly chewing on the hair near his lower lip. “Because I’d feel like a vlákas.”

“It’d be my decision. So, why wouldn’t you ask me?”

We stared at each other, dissecting, yearning, fleeting.

“Well, I have several pieces of interesting news,” Chelsea’s voice chimed.

She whisked into the locker room, swinging her purse onto the bench beside me. As usual, her phone had her attention. Ares retreated to the lockers, leaning back and propping one booted foot against the metal.

“You two can stop pretending,” Chelsea said with a smirk.

I raised a brow. “Pretending what?”

“As if your relationship is platonic anymore.” Her gaze lifted. “I applaud it. I really do. But I’d be lying if I said I’m not slightly hurt that as your friend, you didn’t bother mentioning it.”

“Chels, it’s new. We—”

“Well, the whole world knows now. Hope you’re prepared.” She displayed the phone screen.

A shot of Ares and me in the marketplace with his arms around me, kissing my temple, us grinning from ear-to-ear. I should’ve been annoyed, but all I could do was stare at how happy we looked. How normal we seemed.

Ares shifted behind me, reaching a hand over my shoulder and scrolling through the other photos. Him kissing the sugar away from my mouth. Our hands interlocked, talking in mid-sentence—a shot of him seething at the man who’d bumped into me.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Ares’s voice rumbled in my ear.

I shook my head.

Chelsea snatched her phone back. “Good. Because the other news bothered me more.”

Ares drummed his fingers on my shoulder.

“Priscila and the man who tried to kill you miraculously turned themselves in yesterday. Both had broken noses.” She arched a thin auburn brow.

“Good,” I snapped.

Her eyes blinked with the speed of a jackhammer. “Good? That’s all you have to say, Harmony? Good? You never told me someone tried to kill you. Don’t you think that’s something your publicist, your friend, would’ve liked to know?”

“Because you would’ve freaked out about it just as you’re doing now. Probably even cancel the tour. We took care of it. Threat detained.”

Ares’s body pressed against my back. Heat radiated off him like a furnace, and I fought the compulsion to melt into him.

Chelsea’s bottom lip quivered as it always did when she got angry. She pointed at Ares. “Is this your doing?”

“It was a team effort.” He walked his fingers up my spine.

She thinned her lips. “I had half a mind to quit.”

“Chelsea.” I reached out.

She held up her palm. “But I’m not quitting because I care about you more than just as a client. Pull shit like this again, though, Harm, and I’m seriously out the door.”

My throat tightened, knowing another lie, a bigger lie, loomed right behind me. “Understood.”

She nodded and then pulled me in for a hug. “I can handle more than you think.”

“I know. And I won’t forget that again, Chels.” I gave her a quick squeeze.

She stepped back, tossing her red hair over one shoulder. “Right, then. Announcements are in five minutes. Mars, with Priscila in jail, there’s no more need for your services. I’ll have a check for you in the morning.” After giving a firm nod, she left. The sound of her heels rhythmically clicking across the tiled hallway faded away.

“Let’s get this joke of a fight over with.”

He massaged my shoulders. “It’s not a joke.”

“The fight doesn’t count, Ares.”

He pressed his lips to my ear. “Every fight counts. Not every battle will win you a title.”

“Are you sure those photos aren’t going to bother you?” I turned to face him. “What if word got back to Olympus that the God of War is a big softy?”

“First off, I’m anything but soft.” He pressed himself against me, his acute hardness grazing my stomach. “And having a passion for your woman is anything but weak. Why would I be ashamed to show it?”

You were made for me.

If I genuinely had some cosmic connection with him, with the gods and goddesses of Greece, why were he and I just meeting now? So many questions.

“Time for a Greek to beat a Trojan. Again.”

They had both fighters enter at the same time, given there was no champion. I tried my hardest to maintain a neutral face. One which suggested I was there, but maybe not entirely happy about it. My usual Wonder Woman music played, and I bounced on the balls of my feet, throwing jabs as I made my way down the path. Despite Ares no longer being my bodyguard, he still followed my trail—the protective side of him in full swing.

My opponent, Talia the Trojan, came out on a horse. A real live horse. The need to eye roll was strong, but I managed to hold back. I’d hoped the horse would take a shit as it walked, but no such luck.

Ares took a spot outside the cage, catching my gaze with a knowing glint in his eyes. I’d win within ten seconds. He knew it. I knew it. And the sooner it happened, the sooner he and I could…celebrate my victory.

Talia worked the crowd, sashaying a full circle around the ring, throwing her arms up in the air with a battle cry which sounded like a dying cat. I rolled my shoulders and beat my fists against each other, waiting for her show to subside.

The announcer walked to the center as some epic song by Two Steps From Hell boomed over the loudspeakers. I couldn’t contain that eye roll. This was borderline humiliating. I was Ares, and this entire situation was Homer himself.

“The Trojan War. A battle of epic proportions that fueled the future. And now we re-live it tonight, with a fight for the century between The Trojan and The Amazon,” the announcer said.

Epic proportions? Hardly.

He didn’t have us touch gloves, and as soon as his hand came down for us to begin, I strode forward.

Dodge left. Dip right.

The ancient horns blazed in my ears, making my chest swell. I squatted down and brought my fist forward in an uppercut, planting it straight into her chin. Her feet flew off the ground, going airborne, and she collapsed on her back.

Knock out.

The crowd went silent, clearly hoping for a show. If I had more of an ego, I might have been insulted they arranged for me to fight a woman with such little skill. It took several moments for them to cheer, but I was already on the other side of the cage.

Ares latched onto me before my feet stepped from the stairs, wrapping his arms around my waist and hoisting me up.

“That was the work of a warrior queen,” he said, his voice husky.

I scratched my nails against the back of his head, grinning down at him. “Let’s get out of here.”

“If there weren’t so many people around, I’d have had us out of here already.”

I waved at Chelsea over his shoulder. She rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist as if to say, “Go on, get outta here.”

Not bothering to change my clothes, we pushed past the crowds. Ares was like a linebacker protecting his running back. Our insatiable lust was the football I clung to my chest. Once we reached outside, he led me away from prying eyes.

An owl flew overhead, landing on a maple tree branch with a single “who.” Its bright yellow eyes reflected the full moon above, and its head swiveled back and forth.

“An owl? In downtown Denver? That’s odd,” I said, mesmerized by the bird.

Ares snarled. “That’s because it isn’t an owl. It’s my sister.” A sword appeared in his hand.