Artemis Aesthetic Novels & Stories

'What's wrong? 'It hurts.' I whimper, curling in on myself in hopes of stopping the pain. 'Why?' 'What hurts?' 'He's near.' Artemis whispers, sending waves of delight through me. 'He senses us!' He? Who the hell is he, and why is Artemis reacting to him like that? 'Who are you talking about?' Instead of answering my question, Artemis begins to show me images of a man with hypnotic Crimson red eyes and white hair that hangs down to his shoulders. His entire being holds an aura of sophistication, and I realize that he isn't just anyone.

Artemis says sharply and walks toward the door without waiting for us. Rhea rolls her eyes and slips her arm through mine so we can walk together. "Ignore my brother. He hates everything. You really do look beautiful. This was all last minute but just wait until we have more time we can go crazy making you over." I laugh and smile at her as if I'm open to the idea, but what she thinks is a nice gesture makes me feel more unworthy. Artemis made it seem like the whole point of me being his fiance was that I wasn't like these women, but he isn't the one who has to stand under their judgment. Of course, I don't want to be them, but I also don't want to be looked down on as something not worth th

From a third-person perspective . . . Artemis and Blake are experiencing a sensation that is beyond words. Blake desperately pleaded with her to remain by his side, his unwavering confidence in his superiority to all others palpable in his every word. Artemis perceives him as excessively focused on his interests and needs, neglecting the concerns and perspectives of others. He's a highly possessive individual who covets everything he desires with fervor. It appears that Blake is currently in a state of denial. He is acutely aware of his love for Hermione, yet an unexpected presence has been occupying his thoughts lately - Artemis. Whenever they are in each other's company, he feels a sense o

“We have so little time! The ceremony is this afternoon! Hades was so considerate, he wants you to choose everything, Ma’am! The dress, the shoes, the decor...” Claudine stared, dumbfounded. Considerate? Hades? She was about to scream, to rip someone’s throat out, when Artemis barged into the suite. Artemis, a tall, lean woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense posture that spoke of years in Hades’s service, walked up to her. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and her muscular build was evident even beneath her tailored suit. “I find it truly amazing,” Artemis began, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, “how you managed to pull off that pregnancy miscarriage stunt. Boss was... i

I asked him politely. "I have an appointment, I need to get myself fitted into the suit that Antoinette Michel set aside for me." I recalled my boss saying that some VIP was coming in to get measured. Liné one of the other sales assistants walked up and introduced herself. "It's so nice to meet you Grayson Holmes I am a huge fan of the team and hope you all make it to Super Bowl", she said beaming. He smiled politely and followed her to get measured.

He asked, standing on his feet and reaching near her. “No.” “I think you should stop wearing makeup then.” “Excuse me? You started applying your rules on me this soon?” Caroline asked, looking at him in disbelief. “Well, what can I say? I just feel that you really shouldn’t wear makeup because you’re messing with perfection!” Artemis said, caressing the side of her cheek. Caroline opened her mouth to say something and argue with him about it, but she couldn’t find the right word to say. But her heart melted at his words. “As much as I love a perfectly winged eyeliner and a bold lip, there is something extremely freeing in being bare face because bare is beautiful.”

he replied, holding up a paper bag like a peace offering. She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes bright despite the shadows beneath them. “You’re forgiven.” He sat beside her, resting his arm behind her shoulders as he peeked at the sketchpad. “You’ve already drawn half the café. That’s ambitious.” “Vision,” she corrected him softly, tapping her pencil against the page. “I want to do this right.” Artemis studied the lines on the page—the graceful curve of the windows, the soft awnings, even the tiny vines she had penciled in along the side. “It looks like you,” he said after a pause. “Comforting. Bright. Just a little quirky.”

"Look at you in that dress. Legs for days. These old men are drooling." I laughed. "Shut up. You're the famous painter now. I saw your exhibit downtown last month. Insane." She waved it off but smiled. "Thanks babe. It's going okay. Clients are a nightmare though." We found a spot by the pool, away from the crowd a little. She launched into stories right away. "This one guy," Artemis said, sipping her drink. "He wants a portrait of his ugly dog. Fine. Pays big. But then he says make the dog look noble. Like royalty. I'm like sir, your dog looks like a rat with asthma."

With perfectly proportional features, glorious hair, and a smile that could thaw even the thickest ice. And the best part? It feels right. Being here with him at this moment feels like I am finally on track with my life. It’s not that I haven’t been happy where I’m at in life, I have been. It’s just…lonely. Being rejected brands you. Makes you look undesirable. That’s why this app, Alpha Artemis, willingly wanting to date only rejected females? It’s a gift. “You look beautiful.” He whispers, placing his elbows on the table to prop up his chin as he dissects my face with his eyes. “And I’m not just trying to flatter you.”

When Dragus moves to him and so does Fenrir. “Good to see you again, brother.” I chuckle as Dragus hugs him. Well, it’s not difficult to figure it out. Jörmungandr is a sea dragon and he and Dragus look alike. “It is time.” Artemis says and I turn to look at Carter and he moves towards me. When Artemis stops him. “You are not ready. We need to prepare you.” She says, and I look at her in confusion. Then I take in her appearance and she is wearing what looks like ceremonial robes. Where the hell did she get them from?