X – The Patron Goddess (es)
WILLIAM VEIL
William quickly tore his gaze away from the irritating, too-bright screen of his laptop, the words practically swimming in his mind's eye like a school of tuna as he turned his head to look away with a tired groan; he had been at it with this report since afternoon... and that was when he noticed his sister flinching somewhat randomly again for what seemed to be the nth time.
Come to think of it, she had been like this all day long since she appeared on his room last night out of nowhere.
A younger him would have definitely jumped and scream in fright at the sight of his older sister creeping out of the shadows like some sort of ghostly apparition from a cheap slasher-horror film but now… William, still half-asleep at that time ju
XI–The Curse WILLIAM VEIL: When William finally got his bearings back after being struck on the head (sneak attacks always sucks when he was the one on the receiving end) by some sort of club–then, the next thing he knew, he was lying face-down somewhere near the staircase, blood covering the side of his already bruised face, his crossbow lying uselessly not far from him with Winters already standing in front of him protectively, Thanatos drawn but still unsheathed. (Thanatos was his sister's greatest weapon, Hades had told them this a long time ago. No one could survive a direct hit fromdeathitself, after all...) William couldn't see what kind of expression his sister was making right now but he canfeelher
XII –Bless Us, Sinners WILLIAM VEIL: The werewolf was gazing down at Winters with such obvious affection andlonging– and despite his years of growing seeing other people look at his sister like that... quite frankly, this one was kind of makinghimsick–but judging from the dazed, glassy look Winters was wearing, William could tell that his sister's mind was mercifully too far away from here to processwhat theactual hell is going on right now. Good. With how much shit his sister's dealing right now, she didn't deserve this kind of bull, William thought
XIII –A matter of love and death Somewhere, in the numbing haze of it all, she could hear it: her heart, her poor beating heart practically exposed to the frigid air. It was beating slower and slower like a fading cry, as though she was… she was dying, isn’t she? And she knows, can feel it deep in bones that have yet to be broken that she is, she just know it, without a doubt, without even bothering to raise her gaze to look at the King of Vampires who had gone silent as he stared at her heart beat in motion, looking so completely enthralled, as though he had never seen a human heart before. Finally, keeping his other hand wrapped around her still-bleeding throat where a large, gaping hole pulsed like a second
XIV–Blood is thicker than water ALASTOR NYX: 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. See? Even his thoughts are so fucking depressing! He was aware he probably looked like he had been mugged with his disheveled state, uncarin
XV –Of sweetness and bitterness ALASTOR NYX: Had Alistair not returned, Alastor would have been physically dragged by Sean (orworse, summoned by the Elders–) to return to the North as soon as possible with his mate or not. Even though he would have very much preferred to return home with his mate by his side… thankfully, it didn’t have to come to that because his twin–therightfulalpha of the Northern pack was now right there–and according to snippets of Harry's screeching in the background, Alistair was alright aside from a few ‘helluva healing scrapes and bruises that should heal ASAP.’ But more importantly, Alistair Nyx was the one calling the shots again... as it should have been all these years ago.
XVI –I don't wanna live forever ALASTOR NYX: Alastor's eyes slowly went wide. He looked just as surprised as her and he blinked not only once but twice before wrenching himself away from her arms even though a part of him screechedat being torn apart from his mate without a warning… while a larger part of him was completelyhorrifiedat what he just said, how desperate he sounded. Horrified, alright? Horrified, I tell you! “Wait Winters, it's not what you think, I wasn't threatening to off myself! I didn't mean it to sound likethat,I just...” he waved his hands helplessly about, “I just–well,you know, you're from the under
XVII – Promises, promises . . . “What glitters may not be gold; and even wolves may smile; and fools will be led by promises to their deaths.” –Lauren Oliver . . . PROSERPINA: 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 an
XVIII–The white wolf ALISTAIR NYX: Alistair Nyx had been peacefully puking his guts outside (fine, maybe he did kind of deserve it, maybe this is the spirit of Nemesis kicking him in the ass right now because getting drunk right off the bat just to delay the inevitable interrogation session from his twin brother was a remarkably bad idea) when he felt rather than heard someone seeming to approach him, their footsteps were near to non-existent… if it weren’t for the hair on the back of his neck seeming to stand up straight in attention at the presence. And not to mention, this person has a strangely nostalgic scent that would have, should have lowered his guard; it reminded him of a home he could never return to, of a person tha