"What did you say?"
Lara's voice barely made it past her lips.
Her eyes widened, locked onto his—those obsidian depths that seemed darker now, stirred by something she couldn't name, couldn't read, couldn't survive if she tried.
For a moment, everything inside her… stopped.
Her thoughts stuttered, then collapsed into silence.
Did Ares just say he would marry me? Was that—was that his idea of a proposal? Who proposes like that?
"Ares!"
The sharp call cut through the charged stillness.
Footsteps followed—light, controlled and deliberate.
Moira.
She had come back.
Her gaze swept over them in one smooth motion—taking in everything. Ares' hand still loosely wrapped around Lara's wrist. The distance between them… far too close to be accidental.
She said nothing. But she saw.
Ares didn't turn.
Didn't even acknowledge her.
His attention remained fixed on Lara—steady, unyielding.
Waiting.
For what, Lara's answer would be.
