A QUICK DEATH

"Erebus," Lysander said, his voice heavy with a polite yet strained tone. His purple eyes gleamed with disapproval as he regarded Ares. "I see you are still as dashing as ever."

Ares's lips twitched, suppressing an eye-roll. "Unfortunately, I can say the same about you."

Lysander's voice rose, offended, his stoic face twisting into a frown. "Unfortunately?" He released Thea and approached Ares, his movements graceful yet powerful. "How dare you?"

Ares sighed, shaking his head in pity. "You are still a narcissistic pushover."

Lysander's deep growl countered, "And you are still a bloody bastard."

Ares's glare turned murderous. "Say that again," he growled through clenched teeth.

Lysander smirked, proud. "Bloody bastard."

Thea, sensing the escalating tension, wiped her tears and sniffled. She noticed a striking similarity between the two men and squinted, peering through their powerful auras.