"Three years," he said quietly, voice low and smooth, carrying that new, velvet-edged with amusement. "Three years to the day, Hera. Look at you now."
His golden gaze slid over her—disheveled hair, torn chiton, the faint tremble of exhaustion she could not quite hide.
"You used to spit venom every time I entered this chamber. Curses so creative I almost took notes. And now…" He let the silence stretch. "Now you've grown almost… meek. Though that glare of yours—" His lips curved, slow and mocking. "—still has teeth."
Hera's hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palms.
"I am going to kill you," she snarled, voice shaking with the force of her promise. "I will rip that smug soul from your body and scatter it across the void."
Nathan's smile only deepened.
"You've been promising me that same sweet death for three years now." He leaned forward slightly, forearms resting against the bars with casual arrogance. "And yet… here I stand. Breathing. Whole. Unkilled."
