Copyrighted 2017 *Completed* Highest rankings: #6 in Werewolf #1 in Wolves #3 in Featured He was said to be powerful, the most powerful of them all. A king of kings- a dark king. Complete control. He needed it- thrived on it. He was power, he was dark, and he was beautiful. They say he was a descendant of the first wolves- of shapeshifters so fierce they could kill with barely a glance. He was respected, revered. Feared. The King of the North. And we were the idiots sneaking into his territory. *Not your typical werewolf book* --please reframe from hateful comments directed at me or other readers who enjoy the story. *This book has no sexually mature scenes and is PG-13* *This book has nothing to do with The Game of Thrones, and is not a fanfic of any kind*

"Y-you," she stuttered, staring at the handsome man sitting on the sleek black throne, "you're..." He rolled his eyes, waving his hand impatiently and said, "Hades. Come on, say it with me. Ha-des." "Hades," Ariel breathed out, still not believing the sight before her. Every picture she had seen of the gods had not depicted Hades' beauty. The god sitting before her was not a crusty old man with a white beard; no, he was a Calvin Klein model. "Yes," Hades clasped his hands together and grimaced, "the God of Death and riches; that's me." Ariel nodded, still refusing to believe but knowing she had to and Hades' grimace turned even bitter, "And you, darling, will be staying with me for quite some time." ~*~ Cover: _nymphomaniac Published: 8/6/14