"Bro, what's wrong?" Asher asked, noticing that Ares had been unusually restless.
His eldest brother had shifted positions several times, his attention fixed on the octagonal fighting platform in front of them.
There was something unsettling about the way he watched the masked fighter called Nemesis. His usual composure had given way to a barely concealed tension.
Liam, seated on Ares's right, had noticed it too.
"Don't you think Nemesis looks familiar?" he asked quietly.
At once, the three Norse brothers turned toward Ares.
"You noticed that too?" Lucas asked, raising his voice slightly. Seated farther away, he worried that Ares might not hear him over the roar of the crowd.
Asher's brows knitted together.
"What are you talking about?" he demanded, looking from one brother to another. "You three are acting as if you know something I don't."
