-Brynn-
The mountain road stretches before us like a snake, each curve revealing glimpses of the dense forest. McAllister’s assistant texted Ares the coordinates of his mountainretreat, and we’re on our way there.
Ares drives with one hand on the wheel, the other holding my own hand, his fingers occasionally tightening as if to remind me of the fire between us. Like I need reminding... My fucking body hums when I’m around him, my mind coming up with more dirty scenarios than actual plans of revenge.
The trees thin as we climb higher, revealing a slate gray sky that threatens us with snow. My window fogs with each breath, creating a temporary canvas where I trace invisible patterns with my fingertip. At first, I think they’re random, but then I realize I’m drawing Ares’ mark. I wipe it off quickly before he notices it. It’s not like he forbids me to wear it, like the guy who works for him and wanted to have it as a tattoo. I’m allowed to wear his mark, do whatever the fuck I want with it. It’s more like I don’t want him to know I am this desperate for him that I startedwriting his name on the walls like a second grader. Because yes,I amthat desperate for him.
“We’re being watched,” he says, his eyes moving to the rearview mirror. “Cameras on the tree line.”
Now that he mentioned it, I see a few black devices beneath the branches. “Too paranoid for a senator,” I say, knowing no politician, unless he’s the president, would need that much protection. We’re probably more than a mile away from his house.
“Not paranoid enough,” he smiles in a way that has danger written all over it.
The road widens as we approach the large iron gates that must stand fifteen feet high, topped with decorative spears that look sharp enough to impale.A security panel stands at the entrance, and Ares rolls down his window, looking at the camera and waiting for it to scan him.
“McAllister put my face into the system,” he explains before I can ask. “His assistant had me sign some agreement to collect my data. All legal on the outside. Too bad he forgot to sign a fucking agreement when he hacked into my security.” The gate swings open as Ares explains. Beyond it stretches a wide driveway flanked by ancient oaks, whose branches form an arch overhead.
At its end stands a stone mansion that’s more like a castle than regular vacation home.
“Subtle,” I mutter.
“You know what they say, the man probably has to compensate for something.”
A woman in a tailored black suit waits at the entrance. Her black hair is pinned into a severe bun, and her expression seems like it’s carved from the same stone as the house behind her.Short translation: She looks like an uptight bitch.
“Welcome,” she says as we exit the car, scanning us from head to toe for a moment, even more effectively than the camera at the entrance.“We talked on the phone. I’m Vivian, Senator McAllister’s personal assistant.”
Truth is, I know who she is before she introduces herself. We did a little background check of our own on her, and 404 mentioned her in one of his files. The thing is, she’s not just an assistant. Senator McAllister takes her on vacations, weekend getaways, the rest... She’s not really present in Seattle since that’s the same city his wife is in but is with him everywhere else.
“Ares,” he replies, giving no family name. I’ve thought about this a few times. Do gods even have family names?
Everyone calls him just Ares. No one risks asking him for more details, probably assuming it’s the name he took for himself.
I’ve seen him sign some documents with Ares Theron. I’ve even searched it online, and discovered it meansHunter. Something powerful, just like the man who claims the name.
Vivian looks at us and smiles, or at least tries to. “Ares and guest. You’re the last to arrive.”
I didn’t like the way she said “guest” like I’m nothing important, a plus one of no consequence.
I hate it even more that Ares doesn’t explain to her that I’m not just a simple guest. I’m the fucking reason he wakes up every morning. But I also know why he’s not doing it. He told me a thousand times he thinks this is dangerous and that I should stay home, lay low... blah... blah... blah.
But I can’t help myself from correcting her. “Brynn.” I meet her gaze until she’s forced to acknowledge me.
“Of course. Follow me, please.”
The entrance hall is nothing like I imagined. The plush carpet is the color of dried blood, and as we venture further inside, the hair on the back of my neck prickles with unease. It’s like afucking horror room.Death surrounds us everywhere, mounted on every available surface.
A massive grizzly bear is ready to roar at us in the corner; its glass eyes almost look real. Deer heads watch from mahogany plaques, more than I can count. Exotic predators I hate to look at—tigers, lions, even a fucking rhino.The perfect example of where money doesn’t buy common sense.“Jesus,” I breathe, unable to hide my revulsion, and I immediately get a snarl from Ares in return.
Yeah, sorry about that.
“The senator is an avid conservationist,” Vivian explains, mistaking my disgust for some kind of awe. Yeah, like that’s fucking possible. “Many of these specimens were taken as part of controlled population management programs.”
She’s so full of shit.This display isn’t for conservation, it's for conquest. A fucking shrine to compensate for something. Right now, I’d say a tiny dick.
“Ah, my guests have arrived!” a voice echoes through the hall as Senator McAllister emerges from a side room.
Despite the fact we’re indoors, he’s dressed in a full hunting outfit. Khaki pants tucked into leather boots, a vest with too many pockets to be stylish, and a matching flannel shirt.
