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

"I'm a patient man. I could play this game for all of eternity, my love," the King of Vampires reminded her, his voice deceptively gentle it was so condescending as he easily bent her in half, leaning over just far enough to drag his sharp teeth across her already bruised skin, almost teasingly, "...however, I will not stand for such disrespect–especially from you."


Her breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat as her skin prickled under the scrutiny of his fanged mouth for the nth time.


Somewhere far away, a quiet voice answered for her:


Chapter 14: These wounds, they don't heal