Kyra

Chapter Six

"What?" Was she hearing him right?

"Sit and eat with me, Kyra." He crossed the room, making his way over to that table. When he pulled a chair out for her, Kyra searched for her scrambled words. "You're hungry, no?"

"Y—yes. But I—"

"But nothing. Dine with me. An hour of my presence can be your punishment."

Her chest felt clogged as she struggled over a reaction. Half of her was thrilled—that half that would do anything for five minutes of this man's attention. What's the matter with me? She couldn't think of a reaction less appropriate for herself. The other half of her was sceptical and tired from these bizarre mood swings. She hadn't felt like herself since she'd met him.

She gnawed on her bottom lip, glancing between him and the setup. It was a perfectly valid claim. And sure, she did owe him for all her behavioural problems.

"O—okay?"

She traipsed over, awkwardly lowering herself into the chair. Ares, like a gentleman, pushed her in before taking his seat across from her.

"What's the big deal with all of this?" Even as she asked, he wasn't sure what to tell her. There was more going on here than what Kyra was allowed to know. His ties in the war were too deep. "Why are you doing this? What's with the wine and the candles and the roses and the food?"

So what could he tell her?

"I fancy you."

That worked.

"You what?"

"Fancy you."

He watched that settle in. Sure, he couldn't tell her about the painting—the painting that literally predicted they'd be tied to one another. The painting that promised this little woman sitting across from him would someday be his wife. But he could at least let her know there was something there.

Kyra looked confused. And she was new to all of this. New to her feelings. He knew she was having trouble with them. More trouble than what was expected. More trouble than—

What's going on with this?

Something about this didn't feel normal. Something tiny, something miniscule, something just not right.

She felt a presence at the back of her mind.

"If this is some backward way of getting me to do as I'm told then rest assured I'll—"

"Understand me, Kyra." He cut her off with a wave of the hand. "If I want you to do as you're told, I won't butter you up for it. You'll bend to my will because I'm your leader, not because I've filled you up with expensive wine and tricked you into it."

Her eyes narrowed. From hot to cold. He'd been willing to put the strangeness of her feelings aside until he saw something deeply unsettling.

As Kyra rocketed from being excessively adoring to angry, her eyes changed fucking colour. The amber shade he knew to be hers was a shade darker before. A shade more menacing, despite her demeanour seeming warmer.

Dark fucking magic.

But how could she be cursed? She'd never left Amazonia for heaven's sake.

He tried to school his features. If someone was messing with his Amazons—any of his Amazons—he needed to know who. Could there be a spy, trying to steal information for the war? Or was this more personal? Was someone trying to fuck with him?

"Well letting Erika beat my ass is hardly a normal way of showing that."

"She wasn't supposed to go that far," He returned, staring at her eyes.