Ares was a killer, utterly ruthless and violent, but Aphrodite had rarely actually feared him. His threats of Enyo and Eris didn't get to her. Battlefield wraiths, enticing to his nature perhaps but they weren't her. She was Aphrodite Pandemos, the root of all sexual desire. And she was Aphrodite Areia, of Ares, of war. Let him play with others, he would always be hers in the end.
"Empty little head?" Aphrodite repeated, mocking. She knew she was anything but. She didn't have the wits of Hermes of the war strategy of Athena, but she was Conniving Aphrodite and had plenty of her own cleverness. It wasn't as though Ares was famed for his intelligence either. "And Christians?" Aphrodite asked him, her body now just gently brushing his. "Don't tell me you'd stoop so low. Besides," she told him, eyes drifting for a moment to his lips, his tight jaw, "I don't don't keep you around for your bark. It's your bite I'm interested in."