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

"What glitters may not be gold; and even wolves may smile; and fools will be led by promises to their deaths." 


As romantic as this was, dancing under the moonlight in the place where they first met, Proserpina could not hear the blasted song Alastor was speaking of and was too annoyed for being spun around in the air like a ragdoll.


He was just carrying her and spinning her round and round, anyways. Could this still be even considered as dancing?


"I'm leaving," Proserpina informed him, planting her hands on his shoulders firmly, wanting to be put down now.


His eyes widened, looking up at her with large soulful dark eyes, his head tilting a bit in confusion... like a puppy.


He spun her around again, laughing maniacally, "NOPE! UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOME, OH! UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOOOME~"


Chapter 34: Promises, promises