DESCENT

IV - Touch Me Not

PROSERPINA:

The corpse of the beheaded empousa fell straight to the ground with a sinister thud, limbs splayed in awkward angles like a macabre piece of artwork, its head rolling to the side a second after, some of its blood splattering around the grass which was quickly being washed by the rain.

A beat after, Proserpina manifested to the ground in a low crouch, right next to her kill, ignoring the blood on her shoes.

'Someone's watching.'

She slowly turned to look over her shoulder, eyes narrowed... right into the direction where she last sensed him.

'Your werewolf...'

Frowning, she peered deeper into the shadows and almost reeled back when vivid, dark brown eyes stared right back at her.

"Why are you following me?" Proserpina demanded.

'A man had made you the object of their interest once more...' Thanatos commented, sounding far too amused for her liking, '...never a good thing.'

The werewolf moved closer to where she is, completely ignoring the natural path, heading directly towards her, causing the shadows on the ground to darken, and burst at her feet, flaring to life, and moving agitatedly like whips.

Her shadows were a silent warning for him not to come any closer. It was supposed to be an act of intimidation but much to her annoyance, the werewolf seemed impressed.

"How could I not follow a woman as beautiful as you?" the werewolf asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, his voice husky. The dirt had been washed clean from his skin, showing off his still-bare chest and torso and all the strong planes that was his handsome face.

Seeing him up close, Proserpina mentally congratulated herself for being right: he did have a Mediterranean complexion and he does have eyes the color of dark chocolate, her favorite sweets. His lashes were long, thick, and curled in an artful way that a lot of girls would surely envy and hate him for having eyelashes that long.

Huh, Proserpina blinked as she stared for a moment. She hadn't noticed that back then. And now she did, it kind of hurt to look away.

His intense gaze met her own for a few more moments before the werewolf slowly took in every feature of her face as though he was searching for something in her eyes—making Proserpina a bit self-conscious then panicky for a split-second, had he seen her staring at him earlier? — and she tried so hard not to shift and fidget in front of him like a guilty child.

But no, there wasn't a hint of judgment or mockery within those eyes. The way the werewolf looked at her was actually kind of flattering... as if she was a normal woman and not a feared goddess of the underworld. He looked at her as though she was simply beautiful.

Proserpina blinked.

And the sudden sense of awareness immediately flowed through every single nerve when his gaze slowly wandered to her body and inaudibly swallowed, licking his lips, clearly liking what he saw.

'Enough–'

"State your name."

He grinned broadly, appearing absurdly pleased at the chance of having to introduce himself, "Alastor Nyx of the Northern Pack."

Proserpina raised an eyebrow at that.

How curious... Alastor Nyx is Ancient Greek that literally means avenger of the night, if translated in this era's typical-tongue.