Page 15 of Flamesworn

“Yes, I would believe that. You seem as if you’d belong to my brother Avarice, if you even knew what you wanted, but I don’t think you do. Every life is a battle, boy, and every soul just one more soldier on the front lines. When you have something worth fighting for, you’ll know it.” Ares sounded almostfond.“I won’t hurt your sister. I’d rather burn the world than do that. But war endures, and your sister yearns for it, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.”

Aleks cleared his throat, and Ares looked around idly at the people who were trying to pretend they weren’t watching the three of them. Ares didn’t seem very good at standing still, which set Kataida’s teeth on edge. She had the brief thought of them in a posture collar and tried not to shiver.

Ares glanced over at her like somehow they’d read her mind, and Kataida looked away toward Aleks.

“So, dinner,” Aleks said, affable as ever.

“You don’t really think that’s a good idea, do you?” Kataida tensed as she saw a couple of younger soldiers approaching. She wondered if she could ask Ares to be quiet, or if she’d have to demand it.

“I’m used to it,” Aleks said, shrugging. “If this is Arktos’ patron, the least the Akti family can do is show some hospitality.”

“You can’t welcome back what never left,” Ares said, but they seemed to like the attention, like feeding coal to a fire. Theypreened a bit, tossing their fire-tipped hair. “I would like to try spiced peppers, and your tea, and your spiced wine.”

“There we are!” Aleks clapped his hands, beaming like he’d just arranged a playdate for Malik. “I’ll go find some food. Theron, would you pick up Malik instead and bring him?”

“Sure,” Theron said, “but make sure you tell your wife about this. I don’t wanna be anywhere near your house if you bring a god home for dinner without warning Elena first.”

Theron gave Kataida a long, last, inscrutable look before heading off, and Aleks didn’t linger, either. She pulled Ares toward the house before they were accosted by any soldiers eager to speak to the Gracious One, but Ares seemed to only care about her.

“Until my father has information, you’ll need to stay with me.” Kataida opened the door, gesturing. “Theron lives here, usually, but don’t hurt him, either.” She was slightly apprehensive about the arrangement, but soldiers did what needed to be done, and these were her orders. She couldn’t deny the draw she felt toward them, either, and it didn’t feel anything like the respectful awe she felt around Aleks’ patron god, Azaiah.

“I don’t hurt people,” Ares said, walking around the house. They picked up things, looked at them, put them down again. “I simplyam.”

She sighed. “War hurts people.” It seemed like a foolish argument, especially now that they were alone and she didn’t need to pretend. “Is that why I want things that I do? Because I was once Atreus, and you loved me?”

Ares was studying a figurine in the corner, a little clay statue Evander had found in one of his excavations. They smiled. “This is from my brother’s companion’s time, one of their old spirits that watched over tombs. And I don’t know.” Ares put the statue down, their eyes fixed on Kataida. “Atreus fought like thundershaking clouds, but he didn’t dream of it. He endured battles. I think you’d seek them on the wind, if you could.”

“Maybe.” It was the most she’d ever admitted to it, but if she couldn’t say it to War, who could she? “Was he a dominant?”

“Yes.” Ares sprawled on one of the sofas, tipping their head back so their long hair brushed against the floor. “That power some of you have to make others kneel, he had that. He used it on the battlefield. You have it.” Ares gave her an upside-down smile.

“Yes. But he wasn’t…he didn’t like pain?” It was something, really, to see a god rolling about on her furniture. Watching them, she was reminded of the euphoria and the rage of battle by turns, the wild exhilaration she’d felt in combat herself followed by the rapid, intense drop.

“No. He caused it when he had to in his enemies, but when he took me to his tent, no matter how I begged for it, he wouldn’t do it.” Ares flipped around, sitting up. “He did choke me, once, after a battle in which we were victorious,“ they told her. “But no matter how much I wanted him to cut me or to burn me with brands, he wouldn’t.”

Kataida couldn’t seem to find her breath. “Brand you?” If she concentrated, she could imagine it--Ares spread out naked on the blankets of a tent, firelight dancing over their skin, shifting restlessly as Atreus,as sheteased them with threatening murmurs, letting the metal heat, making it last before pressing it to their skin and hearing them scream–

Ares stood from their couch, slowly, deliberately, advancing on her like a slow wave of heat. “Do you want that?” they asked, and they went down slowly to their knees. “I’ll let you.”

Kataida pulled her hands free, blinking. “Can you read my mind?” she demanded, then blushed hot as Ares grinned.

Gods, they were–beautiful, weren’t they? She put some of her dominance in her voice, hands going behind her back asshe shifted into an attention stance. “Because if you can, you’re going to stop.”

“No, not your thoughts. But youareone of mine, Kataida Akti, even if you weren’t harboring the soul of the warrior who I loved once.”

“I’m not harboring anyone’s soul but my own,” she chastised, gently, because she knew that Ares must have loved Atreus very much. She also knew why Atreus Akti had left Katoikos, and that it had been out of love, not hate—not love for the god of war, but to keep the god of warfromthe one he loved. She didn’t know if she should say that. “But that’s true, I did give you my patronage when I was young.” She reached out, unable to help herself, and touched Ares’ hair, sliding it through her fingers to the ends. They were warm, like they reallywereflame-tipped.

“So I can tell when you want things that are of my realm, and that is what you want. But it’s all right, if you want to make me wait.” Kataida found herself caught by their eyes, the flickering she could see within.

This being is a god. This is war incarnate, and they’re kneeling for you.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Ares breathed. “You must. Daughter of Arktos you might be, but that doesn’t explain it all.”

“You want me to hurt you,” she said, shaking her head when Ares shivered, visibly. “You’ll behave when we go to my family’s, won’t you?”

Ares smiled at her, slow and wild. “If you make me.”

That sounded ominous—andtempting, which was maybe the worst part of all. “Then I’m going to change. Don’t come with me,don’tbreak anything. Can you read?” She tugged at their hair again, unable to help herself. “I have books.”

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