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

"We are free to choose our paths, but we can't choose the consequences that come with them."


Alastor's hand had been wandering to the last unopened button of her coat just as he felt rather than heard her breath hitching against his lips, oblivious to the fact that her eyes were snapping open in steadily growing panic, more so when she felt him actually trying to wrench the coat off of her none too gently.


"NO!" Winters shoved against his chest.


"Winters, what the f–?!" caught off guard, Alastor nearly bumped his head directly against her's, a look of shock on his face as he clumsily planted his hands on the ground to keep himself from crushing her with his weight.


But Winters continued squirming violently underneath him like an animal caught in a trap, "Let me go right this instant!"


Chapter 13: The Consequence(s)