Vessara stepped out of the pack house, her leather satchel slung across one shoulder. Apollo and Finn flanked her, their presence a constant reminder of the invisible leash that had become her daily reality. She had grown accustomed to their watchful eyes and the way they positioned themselves like living barriers between her and the rest of the world.
Then she saw him.
Her feet stopped mid-stride, the heel of her boot hovering an inch above the path. The satchel slid against her hip as her body went still and every muscle locked in a moment of frozen recognition.
There, leaning against a sleek black sedan with his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on her, was Ares.
All she could see was him, the sharp lines of his jaw, the familiar set of his shoulders, and the way his eyes held hers without blinking.
Neither of them moved.
