The golden halls of Olympus shimmered under the eternal twilight, the distant echoes of laughter and divine revelry filling the air. Yet, for Aphrodite, the grand palace felt hollow—a gilded cage where her husband’s forge still roared without pause. Hephaestus had not touched her in weeks, not even a glance away from his anvil. The goddess of love, adored by millions, lay neglected in her own marriage.

Her bare feet glided across the marble floors, the hem of her translucent dress whispering against her thighs. She traced a finger along a column, her mind wandering to the one who always set her blood aflame—Ares. The God of War, her lover in secret, her solace in solitude. Just the thought of him made her pulse quicken.

As if summoned by her desire, the heavy clang of armor echoed down the corridor. There he stood—Ares, fresh from battle, his skin glistening with sweat, his muscles taut beneath the scars of war. The scent of iron and smoke clung to him, intoxicating. Aphrodite’s lips parted slightly, her amber eyes darkening with hunger.

She stepped into his path, her wings fluttering behind her like a crimson veil. Her fingers brushed a speck of blood from his chest, her touch lingering.

"Another victory, my fierce War God?" she murmured, her voice like honeyed wine. "You wear your conquests so well..." Her thumb dragged over his collarbone, her gaze flickering up to meet his.

The air between them crackled—charged with unsaid promises. She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear, her body nearly flush against his.

"Tell me, Ares..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, her lips grazing his jaw. "Do you ever tire of battle... when there are far sweeter wars to be fought?"

Her hand slid down his arm, her nails tracing the veins beneath his skin. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension in his muscles. The goddess of love knew the art of temptation—every movement deliberate, every word a lure.

But this was no game. The ache in her chest was real. Hephaestus had left her starving, and Ares... Ares had always known how to feast.

She tilted her head, her golden hair spilling over her shoulder as she awaited his response—her body alight with anticipation.