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

That went well, Alastor thought sulkily, dropping face-first on the ridiculously large bed in his too-quiet hotel room, curling in on himself until he was wrapped around the blankets from head to toe like a burrito, a sad burrito, half-wanting to disappear from the face of the earth and never be found again. 


The sun has already risen when he got back to his hotel room but the coldness growing within him made it impossible to register the warmth when he felt like he was being followed by a storm cloud.


Even his thoughts are so fucking depressing!


Chapter 28: The Twins