Beautiful was the right word for Thanatos—not handsome, or hot, or anything like that. He was beautiful the way an angel is beautiful—timeless, perfect, remote.

The god’s wrists were shackled in icy manacles, with chains that ran straight into into the glacier floor. His feet were bare, shackled around the ankles and also chained.

You must have voiced your appreciation for his appearance for him out loud without realizing it.

“You compliment me,” Thanatos said. His voice was as gorgeous as he was.