"I'll be damned," Ares muttered, dropping Dite's hand to her side and absently rubbing his other hand up and down her spine. He couldn't stop touching her, and her mouthiness just made him want to press her down into the brutal rocks and show her exactly what he'd meant earlier... But his attention was drawn to the sky, now. The left corner of his mouth pinched downward.
"No pollution," he muttered. And then, narrowing his eyes, he did what he should have done as soon as he arrived in his temple-not-his-temple on Olympus: he searched out every war, every dominion of his on the face of the planet and compared it to what he knew was right.