He'd never broken down before. Or maybe he did when he was a child, when his mother died and his life took a turn for the worse, but never since then. And certainly not in the presence of his enemies—or their offspring.
But Ares permitted Jodie's hold on him. He allowed her to stroke his hair as he cried. He'd gone too long without succour and was entitled to it. He couldn't breakdown before his own people, couldn't share his grief with them because the monster who did it was also among them. From the very second he stepped into the cabin and held his sister in his arms, he hadn't perceived the scent of a stranger but someone very familiar. One of the people he'd rescued from one sticky situation or the other had done this to him.
