POV: Aphrodite
"Took you long enough," the human says casually, his voice carrying the rough edge of someone accustomed to speaking with the wind and trees rather than people. "I was starting to think you'd taken a wrong turn."
The twins tense immediately, the shift so subtle a human wouldn't catch it but unmistakable to anyone who knows them—spines straightening, weight redistributing, every muscle coiling like springs wound too tight. Flanking positions becoming aggressive stances, the air around them crackling with barely contained violence. Cassian's hand moves toward a weapon he's not carrying, fingers flexing with muscle memory that predates conscious thought. Bastien shifts his weight, ready to spring, his breathing gone shallow and controlled.
