Athena's breath caught when she heard the quiet sound of his footsteps again, slowly drawing closer. Her body tensed, but she didn't move, her pride refusing to give him the satisfaction of retreat.
Azrael closed the space until he stood just behind her shoulder, that she could feel his hot breath on her neck. The air between them shifted, charged, heavier. She could feel his presence more than she could hear or see him, like the gravity of him pulled her in against her will.
"You know," he said, his tone softer now, almost conversational, though every syllable curled around her spine, "I've been wondering about something."
Athena forced herself to glance back, her chin tilting just enough to meet his gaze. "And what's that?" Her words came out low, clipped, as though each one had to fight its way past her heartbeat.
