With her task done, Proserpina gently tugged off of her gloves and half-turned away from him, the shadows already growing to take her home… but Alastor suddenly held his hand out, his fingers very nearly touching the shadow as he stood up, as if intending to follow her.

At that, Proserpina wordlessly commanded the shadows to disperse all at once before it stole his. She glared at the stormy skies, her gaze tired and accusing because she was so certain that somewhere out there in the clouds, way up high in Mount Olympus... there was a certain goddess of love laughing while watching Proserpina's current dilemma.

Then again, it could be Eros for all she knew…

"Are you deaf or are you dense?" Proserpina snapped, not bothering to look behind her, "I am not interested."

"Is this because I'm a werewolf?"

–Excerpt from Chapter IV: Touch Me Not

Descent is created by Ataraxia, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

DescenT

"Desire is the kind of thing that eats you and leaves you starving."


At his revelation, her pretty pale face flushed with a vengeance–a bright pink along high cheekbones–and Alastor resisted the urge to cackle at such an endearing sight. 


Talking to her was so fun. Ah, but gods help him... teasing her was also becoming his favorite hobby rather quickly.


"Maybe I was interested..." Winters relented, a mirthless smile on her lips as she tilted her head slightly to one side, his eyes immediately zeroing on to her pale neck, he wondered what it would be like littered with bites on such a slender lovely neck–"...to one of the other werewolves or nymphs back there. Who knows?"


Chapter 11: Would it be a sin? (part 2