"Isis," Aphrodite called out. She instinctively tried to stand, to separate herself from Nathan and adopt a more defensible posture, but Nathan's arms tightened around her waist with firm insistence, preventing her from leaving his lap .
She glanced down at Nathan, confusion and concern warring in her expression, but his gaze remained locked upward on Isis—cold, calculating, utterly devoid of the warmth he'd been showing Aphrodite mere moments ago . His entire demeanor had shifted in an instant, transforming from relaxed affection into coiled alertness.
"Did you finally find a new man to replace the countless others who came before, Aphrodite?" Isis asked, her tone dripping with false sweetness that barely concealed the barb beneath . The question was designed to wound, to diminish, to reduce Nathan to just another entry in what she was implying was a very long list of the love goddess's conquests .
