DESCENT

V-Would it be a sin?

ALASTOR NYX:

"I believe I've earned the right to be in your company... as well a kiss from you," Alastor declared triumphantly, the more-or-less dumbfounded expression Winters was wearing making him grin.

He had a feeling that his mate wasn't someone so easily shocked—especially being a goddess of the underworld (which was a bonus. There was just something so endearing with the way those obsidian eyes widened at him) shocked, concerned, impressed, flattered—her gaze darting from him, his wound, then at her discarded dagger rapidly, looking like she was asking for her weapon to magically return to her.

Oh, but she just looked so freaking cute like that.

The sudden noise his mate made at the back of her throat didn't help her case too, "As if you'd be satisfied with a simple kiss?!" she snapped, her words coming out in a frenzied rush.

He resisted the urge to giggle.

Oh, you already know me so well, baby...

For some absurd reason, Alastor suddenly felt like gushing and pinching those adorably pink cheeks but refrained himself. Somehow, he just knew that Winters would actually try to bite his fingers off of her face.

He shivered.

Okay, that was pretty hot... "You expected to have sex with me and for the last forsaking time, it will not happen–"

"But you want it too, don't you?" Alastor interrupted, smirking.

He expected a quick denial, a fierce rebuttal at his audacity, she was still a goddess after all, he wasn't stupid, he knew she can truly hurt, even send him straight to the underworld if she really wanted ...but when she suddenly paused, her telling silence going far too long—Alastor knew that he had finally hit the jackpot.

It was common knowledge that fighting through the bond of soul mates was impossible. After all, how could you fight your own life partner, the other half of your own soul? And just why on earth would anyone want to fight it when not everyone is so lucky, so blessed to be able to meet their soul mate in this lifetime?

Scanning his mate from head to toe with his eyes alone again, Alastor just knew that he will never get tired with the sight of her.

Blessed, indeed.

His mate is a goddess.

Even until now, he still could not believe it himself. Alastor had waited for so long to meet his soul mate, had always dreamed of it–and suddenly, she was just right there, looking like a fantasy. What had he even done to deserve someone so enchantingly beautiful?

Hell, he didn't even know that gods could have soul mates... and of all beings, it had to be the mysterious Proserpina, the goddess of shadows, heiress to the underworld, keeper of Death.

Winters Veil.

But then again... his mate had alluded herself that she wasn't a goddess originally. Does that mean she was a mortal once? What glorious feat did his mate achieved that she was made immortal by Hades himself?

Again, Alastor could not stop himself from praising the fates for giving him such a wonderful being for a mate.

Now, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry in joy. He would have been so fucking happy, completely over the moon about the fact if the goddess would just please stop resisting the fierce attraction between them.