Kyra

Chapter Thirty-Three

After Kyra left the room, damage control started. Angie was spitting feathers, annoyed with Eros for what she'd heard, even more annoyed that he'd tried to hide it from her. Then, as if that wasn't already bad enough, Ares being in her general vicinity made her all the more agitated.

Trying and failing to get through to Angie, Eros left the room for some time, leaving Ares to stare blankly into the fire. He knew better than to hunt Kyra down immediately. It'd only end with her killing him. And so he stared, killing time, as he let her simmer down.

When nearly an hour had gone by, he got to looking around. Where could she have gone? She hadn't left the place. He could still feel her nearby.

He caught his best friend out in the hallway pacing.

"Where is she?" Ares asked, knowing that Eros would know.

The winged man sighed, frustrated. "Angie's taken her to one of the guest bedrooms."

So Ares was right. To his own irritation too. Those women were bonding like a house on fire, seeing eye to eye through their shared loathing for one of these men.

"She hasn't slept since the war," Ares acceded.

"As if that's what's making her cranky. Angie won't talk to me. She says I have to have a long think about my actions."

"Sounds like a narc."

"And your Amazon Queen isn't the head of them all." Disgruntled, they both pressed their backs to the wall. "If she's a narc, it's 'cause Kyra's made her that way. Ange won't let me in the bed and Kyra's taken the only guest room. Looks like it's going to be a stake out, like the good old days."

The good old days—ha! They both knew their best times had been spent in the presence of one of those women. But the make believe took some of the stress off.

"You'll have to wait," Ares said, turning for what he assumed was the guest room. "I'm going to see if I can make any ground with Kyra."

"Are you suicidal? She broke my face."

"That's her thing right now."

Ares would have to get into the practice of dodging those blows, lest he planned to spend forever with an off-kilt face.

"I don't care if that's her in thing," Eros snapped. "Look at my nose. Fuck, I need to reset my nose." The winged man clutched his nose, groaning in anticipation of the soon to come snap. "You go in there and you're as good as a dead man."

"She's been mad at me a million times."

Ares could handle one more occasion, especially when he deserved every ounce of her anger.

"Yes, back in the days where she didn't have an entire army of scary women backing her corner. One wrong move and you put yourself on their radar. Beyond that, the scene from the living room? That's a woman who doesn't shy away from violence. You should've seen her in the war. I'm telling you—collecting daggers like trophies. And that little show there was planned out and calculated. Go in there and you might not come back with a dick. I'm telling you, that bitch will castrate you."

Kyra was a force to be reckoned with. But Ares knew what he was doing. He knew exactly who he sold his soul to.

"My dick's been out of action for that long I'd probably enjoy it."

"Enjoy losing your dick?" Eros demanded, his wide-eyed stare making Ares feel like he'd gone mad.

"It would grow back."

"I'm praying for you."

"Keep the couch warm for me."

He turned for the door, knocking softly. He awaited an answer that wouldn't come. If Kyra was awake, she wouldn't exactly be welcoming him. Holding his breath, he gave the door a nudge and slipped inside.