Chapter 10: Would it be a sin? (part 1)

ALASTOR NYX:

"I believe I've earned the right to be in your company–as well a kiss from you," Alastor declared triumphantly, the more-or-less dumbfounded expression Winters was wearing making him grin.

He had a feeling that his mate wasn't someone so easily shocked–especially being a goddess of the underworld–which was a bonus. There was just something so endearing with the way those obsidian eyes widened at him–shocked, concerned, impressed, flattered–her gaze darting from him, his wound, then at her discarded dagger rapidly, looking like she was asking for her weapon to magically return to her.

Oh, but she just looked so freaking cute like that.

The sudden noise his mate made at the back of her throat didn't help her case too, "As if you'd be satisfied with a simple kiss?!" she snapped, her words coming out in a frenzied rush.

He resisted the urge to giggle.

Oh, you already know me so well, baby...

For some absurd reason, Alastor suddenly felt like gushing and pinching those adorably pink cheeks but refrained himself. Somehow, he just knew that Winters would actually try to bite his fingers off of her face.

He shivered.

Okay, that was pretty hot...

"You expected to have sex with me and for the last forsaking time, it will not happen–"

"But you want it too, don't you?" Alastor interrupted, smirking.

He expected a quick denial, a fierce rebuttal at his audacity, she was still a goddess after all, he wasn't stupid, he knew she can truly hurt, even send him straight to the underworld if she really wanted ...but when she suddenly paused, her telling silence going far too long–Alastor knew that he had finally hit the jackpot.

It was common knowledge that fighting through the bond of soul mates was impossible. After all... how could you fight your own life partner, the other half of your own soul? And just why on earth would anyone want to fight it when not everyone is so lucky, so blessed to be able to meet their soul mate in this lifetime?

Scanning his mate from head to toe with his eyes alone again, Alastor just knew that he will never get tired with the sight of her.

Blessed, indeed.

His mate is a goddess.

Even until now, he still could not believe it himself. Alastor had waited for so long to meet his soul mate, had always dreamed of it–and suddenly, she was just right there, looking like a fantasy. What had he even done to deserve someone so enchantingly beautiful?

Hell, he didn't even know that gods could have soul mates... and of all beings, it had to be the mysterious Proserpina, the goddess of shadows, heiress to the underworld; keeper of Death.

Winters Veil.

But then again... his mate had alluded herself that she wasn't a goddess originally. Does that mean she was a mortal once? What glorious feat did his mate achieved that she was made immortal by Hades himself?

Again, Alastor could not stop himself from praising the fates for giving him such a wonderful being for a mate.

Now, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry in joy. He would have been so fucking happy, completely over the moon about the fact if the goddess would just please stop resisting the fierce attraction between them.

Suddenly, his own words from earlier came back to him like a bitch slap to the face:

"If I'm ever going to meet my mate in this lifetime, I'd appreciate it if it's going to be someone that gives me a challenge."

Oh, right.

...Well, fuck.

No wonder his old man often told him to be careful what you wished for because Alastor is literally regretting his wish right now.

If Alastor can, he would have turn back time and strangle his idiot self for such a careless wish–just to spare him the trouble. His life was already a pain; does that seriously have to involve his love life too?

For a moment, Alastor wondered if the goddess would be more inclined to stay longer for a chat, would be impressed enough by him if he had told her at the first chance he got that he was the alpha of the Northern pack even if he didn't want to... or that she was actually his mate and he was so sorry he had lied to her face.

But the frightened look in her eyes when she honestly asked if she was his mate earlier made him uneasy.

Why was she afraid?

Then again, Alastor reminded himself to be patient, to be considerate because his mate, especially not being one of his own, deserved that from him at the very least. After all, how many other species reacted so badly at the idea of being a werewolf's mate?

All of them.

"What if I am already in a relationship?" Winters suddenly dared to ask, raising her chin proudly, almost tauntingly.

Yes, that.

One of his main concerns... and Alastor forced himself not to scowl in front of his mate, "Well, are you?"

Just the mere thought of his mate being with another man–or woman–made his blood boil, made him want to hunt them down and skin them alive with his own hands before burying them ten feet under because how fucking dare they even though, rationally speaking, he knows that his mate shouldn't be at fault for being involved with another, especially since she is not aware of him being her other half...

But the sudden blush across her pale cheeks made Alastor pause, his brain feeling like it just short-circuited.

...cute.

Thankfully, the odd expression he was surely wearing had not been noticed or called out because her gaze quickly averted from his, a small pout evident on her pretty face as she kept her gaze pointedly trained to the other side, determinedly not looking at him.

She didn't answer.

"...That's a 'no', then?"

When he received no further response from her, Alastor found his lips curling into a victorious grin until he can feel his own cheeks aching but he didn't care oh gods damn it, he can't bring himself to cut it out.

He's so fucking happy–

"Remove that grin off your face," his mate hissed, not bothering to look at him oh, and her ears are red too–! "It still does not mean I'm having sex with you."

"Oh, really?"

At his amused tone, she exhaled loudly and stared at the heavens again, almost accusingly, "Which... part... of I'm not interested do you not understand?" Winters asked, the words coming out slowly.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, thoroughly amused at her stubbornness–he expected nothing less from his mate, "Oh? I think you're forgetting the fact that I'm a werewolf."

"So?"

"My dear goddess, I am not sure if you are aware of this but..." Alastor's eyes crinkled in mirth as he stared her down, "... I can actually smell your interest."