AKIRA'S POV

Ares was a grown man. He was thousands of years old and I knew he had lived long enough to know his rights and wrongs. He had the wrong way of portraying his feelings. And an even wronger way of fixing things.

And his act because jealousy had successfully broken me.

I picked up the butcher knife in my hands and I stared back at the girl in its reflection. I looked like a shadow of myself. I looked like the man who broke me. Cold and numb.

My cheekbones were staring right back at me and my collarbone was protruding proudly. I looked back at my reflection...