"Do you want me to paint her true face—the soul residing within Vienna Beaumont's body?" Silas offered, unbothered if Ares requested it. Near the towering library window stood an empty canvas, ready to capture a vision.
Silas' hands pulsed with radiant white light, a powerful energy thrumming in the air. He cast the shimmering glow toward the canvas.
As if masterful oil strokes from an expert painter, the blank canvas slowly transformed—revealing a breathtaking portrait of the lady Ares had longed for all this time.
Valeska Steel, as Ares had once seen her in the human world, laughing beneath the maple tree, dimples hidden within her smile. Her serene eyes—silver pupils gleaming with an indomitable spirit—gazed at life with unbreakable hope.
Her auburn-red waves cascaded elegantly, framing her sharp, pointed nose, high-rosy cheekbones, and blood-red wide kissable lips. Her Mediterranean porcelain skin glowed with the ethereal purity of polished marble.
