Not backward.
Not away.
Toward him.
Ares stopped so close that his chest brushed my shoulder.
His teeth were visible.
His breath hit the side of my face in hot, rapid bursts.
Behind the glass, somebody swore.
I kept my hands open.
Low.
Empty.
“No one’s taking him from you again,” I said.
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Ares’ growl changed.
Not softer.
Lower.
Confused.
Zeus left the wall.
Thor stood.
That was what made the room behind the glass go completely silent.
Daniel had told me Thor had barely stood for anyone except feeding.
Now he rose slowly, front legs stiff from months of inactivity, and walked toward me.
I didn’t look directly at him.
Predators understand staring.
Grieving animals understand something else.
Pressure.
Thor stopped two feet away.
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Ares was still pressed against me.
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