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The blonde looked at his muses, each one more beautiful than the last. There were brunettes, chestnuts, blondes, redheads, freckled, freckled, bulky. A row of beauties to choose from. He loved them like his life and for the same reason, he couldn't decide which one to send.  Ares, the god of war. He was a maniac, a tyrant, a beast.  - And? What will it be? - Asked her sister with her hands on her hips somewhat annoyed by the wait. She frowned still unable to decide, they all looked scared. - I don't understand why it must be one of my muses- he said, postponing the moment of delivering the woman. - It's what Mother ordered. - Hebe released annoyed by the reluctant behavior of the star.  - He can heal himself. - It's what Mother ordered - her sister said again. Apollo knew that if Hera ordered something, it was better for him to obey, otherwise, the queen would take the refusal very badly. With no choice, he turned to his muses again. He had to choose someone strong, someone, who would not be frightened by the god of war like everyone he knew. Someone... so disrespectful and haughty that she became annoying. He smiled looking at the redhead.  She looked back at him, and her eyes flashed with fear. I didn't let it show for long though. The fear became fire in his eyes. - Come here, Daria. The muse approached and he took her face with both hands. - If you feel threatened in any way, get out of there at that precise moment. Do you understand? She glared at him and nodded. Daría had been taken to the temple of Apollo a very short time ago, she still did not get used to have a master and was very rebellious, you could even say that she was wild. This made Apollo especially appreciate her. She didn't just let herself be guided, she fought against the current. He saw how the muse was carried by his sister to the carriage and sighed. I hoped it was okay. While she was the one to serve such a menacing god, she could drive him out of her mind at any moment. XXX Daría watched the blonde goddess leave, she had left her at the door of the god's chambers and had fled. What a goddess. She knocked on the huge golden door but no one answered, forcing himself to gather his courage, she pushed the door open and crossed the threshold. Everything looked as calm as if he were alone. Perhaps he had gone to heal elsewhere. After all, he was not supposed to live on Olympus anymore. She had not yet arrived when this had happened but the other muses had told her the story of Ares and Aphrodite. Discovered in full betrayal of the goddess's husband and exposed to the shame of being seen by every one of the gods in full swing. It had been one of the war god's main reasons for fleeing to Thrace, that and the banishment of his sister Eris.  He took a couple more steps when he heard a groan. He froze. He was there, he was there. Well, this is what he had come to, and the sooner he finished, the sooner he would leave. She approached the god's room and stepped over the threshold. She saw him lying on the bed, shaking with pain, despite his immense size, he looked almost ... defenseless. He approached her until he touched her arm, the man turned so quickly that he made her jump, his gaze was as fierce as a lion's and his face so brutal that it made her recoil. It reminded him of a wounded animal that wanders off into the dark so it can lick its wounds in peace.  - I ... am ... a muse ... I ... have been sent ... to ... to ... help you, with ... your wounds. - Long, I don't need your help. The god's voice was so raspy and deep that it reminded Daria of a being from the dark forest. The muse lowered her gaze to his arm, was caught by the huge hand of the god, and wanted to scream. The threat, threatened, what had Apollo said about the threats? -I ... I'm ... sorry ... The god's face twitched, small beads of sweat formed on his forehead and he lay back due to the intense pain. -Are you okay? - The muse released frightened. Until then I notice the huge golden stain on the white sheets. The god was bleeding. I quickly look for the materials to clean his wounds and bandage him. She returned and tried to accommodate him in a better position but the god, with one arm, threw her to the floor of the room. -I told you to get out. - He let out almost in a growl. -I will do that. After I heal your wounds. The god looked at her with hatred but was silent. He had no more strength to fight. The muse managed to put him on his back and began to clean the huge wound on his belly. The god had been completely pierced by a spear. She had never seen anything like this, it wasn't that she had seen many wounds in her life. She was a muse, not a harpy. By all the gods! She cleaned his wounds and sold him as well as he could. The man had long since fallen into unconsciousness and when he finished, she could finally see him without fear of having his head ripped off. His skin was golden, his hair as black as coal, long to below his shoulders, and his face seemed sculpted by Zeus himself. And his muscles, she had never seen such muscles, as hard as a rock, but smooth as silk. His lips, could they be that perfect? Were they as soft as they looked? His nose was somewhat large and crooked, sure of past battles, but it only made him look more manly. His thick black beard framed his face so perfectly that it didn't surprise him that Aphrodite had fallen in love with him. She, who only loved beauty, had had the most beautiful man on Olympus.  He didn't know why, but he stayed by her side until the sun rose. Sleep overcame her without her even realizing it and she fell asleep beside him. Having seen his perfect face as the last thing before falling into the arms of Morpheus.
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