The night air greeted her like a friend, the cool touch a gasp of relief for her skin, a reminder that she had skin. And Ares now, following, unwise and dangerous. She turned. Stared at him unblinking, her pupils dark as the back of the moon.
He towered over her, but it was like a mountain towering over the ocean, her depth matched his height. Hecate was not afraid of him for her own sake, but awareness of the tsunami that he would trigger if they clashed simmered in her mind.
But Hecate was not feeling gentle. The curse surged within her, magic unrestrained. Part of her wanted to tear the mountain right down. "Is that a plea for mercy or a threat?"