Kamaria-
The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft golden beams over the room. I took a steadying breath as I approached Ares' bed. His chest rose and fell with shallow, slow breaths, his skin warm. The worst of the wound had already been healed, but it needed to be sealed properly, and that was a task only I could handle.
I leaned over him gently, my hands trembling slightly as I placed the cloth on his wound. The magic flowed through my fingertips, sealing the edges of the gash until the skin was smooth, undisturbed. It was a delicate process, but the magic I wielded was strong, and it left no trace of the injury behind.
Once that was done, I stood there for a moment, watching him. His breathing was steady now, but he was still asleep.
My fingers brushed over his cheek almost instinctively, and for a moment, I hovered, my heart racing. My breath caught in my throat, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to him. The pull was there again—the way he consumed every thought, every breath, no matter how much I told myself I shouldn't feel this way.
I pulled my hand back like I'd been burned, whispering a curse under my breath. What was I thinking? He's a god. And I'm just his slave. Nothing more.
I repeated it again and again, like a prayer I didn't believe—hoping, begging it would mean something to my heart.
But it didn't.
I turned toward the small bathing area, forcing my mind away from that dangerous path. He'd need a bath soon, especially with the sweat from the fever. I prepared the water, making sure it was just the right temperature. As I did, I heard him stir. The soft sound of his breathing changed, his chest rising more sharply now.
As I turned around, I felt his eyes on me. They were wide awake. Watching.
I froze.
His gaze was intense, as if he could see right through me. My heart pounded as I stood there, not daring to move. I wasn't prepared for this. Not prepared for the weight of his presence when he was awake.
His lips parted, but before I could hear what he might say, I scrambled for words. "I—I prepared a bath for you," I stammered, stepping back a little to avoid his gaze. "You, um, you can get up when you're ready."
Ares didn't respond. He just… looked at me. His gaze never wavered, and it made my skin flush under the weight of it. I could feel the tension building between us, thick and heavy, like a storm cloud waiting to break.
Without saying a word, he moved. His powerful frame shifted under the sheets, and then he was standing, towering over me. The air grew thick with the kind of heat I had never felt before.
I had to blink quickly and look away, closing my eyes for a moment to gather myself. My breath was uneven, and I could feel the heat in my cheeks. The way he moved, the strength and ease with which he commanded the space—it left me breathless, exposed.
"Aren't you going to serve me in the bath?" Ares' voice rumbled, low and dangerous. He didn't ask; it was a command.
I nodded, still unable to meet his eyes. My body felt electric from the closeness, like there was too much of him, too much of everything between us. My hands shook as I guided him to the bath, the water steaming and rippling beneath his form as he lowered himself into it.
I tried to focus on the task at hand—scrubbing his back, making sure he was clean—but the air between us was thick. His body was still so close, the scent of him overwhelming me, making my heart race faster than I wanted to admit. I could feel his every movement, every breath, and it was like everything inside me was pulled toward him.
I had to remind myself to breathe.
Slowly, I reached for the cloth to wash his chest, my fingers trembling as they brushed against his skin. He didn't flinch, didn't move, but his gaze never left me. It was like he was watching my every move, studying me with those piercing eyes.
And then—without warning—he shifted just slightly, turning his head toward me. The heat in the room seemed to grow even more intense, the tension unbearable, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to him. His lips were so close, just a breath away, and my pulse quickened.
What would they taste like?
The thought slammed into me, unbidden. I couldn't pull away from him. I couldn't stop myself. It was as if the entire world had fallen away, and all that was left was him and me.
And then—knock knock.
The sound of a knock at the door shattered the moment.
I jerked back, my heart pounding wildly as I tore my eyes away from Ares. I stepped back quickly, forcing myself to breathe as I forced my gaze to the ground. The servant at the door, I could hear his voice now, muffled.
"A message for Lord Ares," the servant said.
I didn't look up. I couldn't. My body was still trembling from the closeness, the almost-kiss that had been interrupted.
Ares' voice cut through the air, dark and commanding as usual. "Enter," he said.
I didn't dare move, standing still and hoping my body would stop betraying me.
The servant stepped in, a scroll in his hand, but Ares didn't say anything else, his gaze still focused on me as the servant delivered his message.
I didn't know if I was relieved or disappointed. All I knew was that the tension in the room was far from over, and I could already feel the weight of what had just happened between us hanging in the air.
Ares-
I woke slowly, the scent of her hitting me before my eyes even opened. It was the same scent that had invaded my dreams, pulling me from the fevered haze I'd been trapped in. It was intoxicating—comforting, familiar, and, for reasons I couldn't quite explain, it grounded me. I stayed still for a moment, listening to the soft splashes of water as she prepared the bath.
But it wasn't just the sound of water. No, it was her presence that stirred something inside me. I didn't rush to open my eyes, instead savoring the quiet, taking in the way she moved, how her body shifted as she worked, the delicate grace in her every motion. She didn't know it yet, but I was already watching her.
Then, without warning, I felt the change—the subtle shift in the air when her attention focused on me. I knew she sensed it too. The exact moment I opened my eyes, locking onto her form. She froze, and I could see her shoulders stiffen under the weight of my gaze.
She turned to look at me, and I saw her gaze flicker quickly away. Her heart was racing, her breath coming in shallow bursts. I watched her, studying the way her skin flushed under the intensity of my attention.
She opened her mouth but struggled to find her words, her voice shaking. "I—I prepared a bath for you," she stammered. "You, um, can get up when you're ready."
Her words only made the tension heavier. I didn't respond, just let the silence stretch between us. I could see how uncomfortable she was—how her body betrayed her, how her cheeks flushed deeper under the weight of my stare. It was… interesting.
Without saying a word, I moved. I shifted, feeling the muscles in my body protest, but ignoring it. I wasn't going to wait for her to gather her wits. The air around us thickened, heavy with everything we weren't saying. My body felt heavy with the need to close the space between us, but I waited. I gave her a moment to realize what was happening.
"Aren't you going to serve me in the bath ?" I asked, my voice a dark command, low and deliberate.
She stuttered again, and I could practically hear the way her heart was slamming against her ribs. She tried to step back, to escape, but there was no escaping me. Not with the way the tension coiled between us, thick and oppressive.
She looked at me once more, her eyes avoiding mine but her hands trembling as she guided me to the bath. The air felt like it was closing in on us, the proximity too much, too overwhelming. I could feel her breath hitch every time our skin brushed, the shudder in her touch when she reached for the cloth.
I slipped into the bath, the heat of the water doing little to cool the fire that was building between us. I was aware of every little thing—every shift of her body, every quiver of her hand, the way she couldn't seem to get her breath under control.
I let her work, but I couldn't stop myself from watching her. The way her lips parted in concentration, the way her eyes flicked up to mine as if she were caught in a web of her own making. I felt every movement, every subtle shift. And I saw the way she responded—how she couldn't seem to stay still, couldn't stop herself from drawing closer.
Her fingers brushed over my chest, and the air seemed to grow heavier. She was trembling, barely able to touch me without her body betraying her. I watched her, waiting. I could see it in her eyes—the way she was fighting against something she couldn't control.
I leaned in, just slightly, allowing the space between us to shrink even more. Her breath faltered, and I could feel her pulse speeding up. The heat in the room was unbearable, and it wasn't just from the water.
Her lips—God, they were so close. I could taste the air between us, the need thick enough to choke on. But before I could make any move, before I could close the distance between us completely, I heard the soft knock at the door.
"A message for Lord Ares," the servant's voice came through the wood, cutting through the tension like a blade.
I cursed silently, torn between the servant and the overwhelming need to close the distance between us. I broke my gaze from Kamaria, slowly pulling away from the moment, as I heard the servant at the door, waiting.
"Enter," I growled, my voice heavy with frustration.
The door swingind open, but I didn't look at the servant. My eyes were still on Kamaria, watching the way her body trembled, her skin flushed from the closeness. She wasn't ready for what had almost happened, neither of us were.
The servant stepped inside, holding a scroll, but I didn't acknowledge him immediately. My attention was fixed on her. The tension was still there, lingering in the air, impossible to ignore. It hung over us, like a storm waiting to break. I didn't know if I was relieved or disappointed that the moment had been interrupted, but one thing was clear—I wanted her. And the air between us would never be the same again.