He was known by many names.
Hades–God of the Underworld, King of Hell, Lord of the Dead; the adjudicator of souls, father of shadows and the wealthiest of the gods–had lived since the fall of the elder gods, the Titans, since the dawn of humanity and he does not take surprises lightly.
Not many may have known but the eldest Olympian God actually possessed the rare gift of foresight regarding the fates of those who are about to be brought forth to his realm, those who are already dying, how and when will they die.
And thus, there were few, precious things left in all existence which possessed any ghost of a chance to actually surprise him.
Hades took great pride in that fact… and even greater care to maintain this serviceable ability a secret from everything and everyone else. Except maybe his wife, he suspects she knows.
And so it came to be, that even before the messenger of the gods, Hermes had crossed the River Styx to waste his time, a concerned look on his deceptively youthful face as he came forth to the court of Hades.
But the lord of the dead had already felt the not-so-subtle sway in the ever-flowing strings that the Fates so meticulously weave in their tireless hands.
He had also formed a reasonably accurate idea about its cause by now; his only daughter, most possibly, his most favored child: the goddess of shadows. Hades tried not to sigh, Prinkípissa mou, what are you doing?
“My lord…” began Hermes with a deep bow, “I believe there is news you should be made aware of–it concerns your only child,” the younger god lifted his head slightly, as if seeking permission to continue speaking so unannounced.
The God of the Underworld had previously glimpsed bits and pieces of what had transpired over the last few nights Proserpina’s presence had been restrained in the living realm by a… vampire, was it?
That could be a problem.
And his daughter had suffered from her curse once again it seems but he felt her safe nonetheless… yet something was terribly amiss.
He waved at Hermes to continue.
“Apollo has claimed a werewolf from the North had forcefully coerced your daughter to become his mate, Your Highness. Although there are rumors that this is none other than the same shifter who took down a Cyclopes to aid her and one of her esteemed mercenary, William Veil, and even within our midst, there are whispers of this very same werewolf called Alastor Nyx is currently in her custody. And the speculations are getting out of hand. Apollo and the nymphs are spreading stories like wildfire, too...” Hermes paused, almost embarrassed, sheepish, and then hurriedly added, managing to look both hesitant and worried at once, “Perhaps… you should pay the princess a visit?”
The lord of the dead’s eyes narrowed.
Hermes winced, waving a hand immediately, “Apologies milord, I do not mean to pry but... I believe you should consider reaching out to the girl for yourself, see if she is truly unharmed?”
Hades languidly brought up a hand to his face and stroked his chin for a heartbeat or two while Hermes shifted uneasily… “I see, so that is how it is going to be,” the older god drawled out, “Do not trouble yourself any more in this matter Hermes, I shall personally speak to her myself.”
Hermes seemed to deflate in relief which he hurriedly tried to hide as he bowed once more, his voice lighter now at the promise of leaving this realm, “Thank you, your highness. If that will be all, I shall be on my way.”
Hades nodded once and with a beat of winged sandals, the messenger of the gods was gone and on his way out of the underworld.
Meanwhile, the god of the realm raised his hands in front of his chest and intertwined his fingers… considering this recent development; gods have always been known to be fickle, forgetful beings–which he admit they are–but Hades has never been quite like them, being a deity that thrives in a realm that is devoid of all warmth and all life present and the god of the underworld did not forget, does not forget even for one second that regardless of what Hermes seemed to thinly suggest: the present other half of Proserpina’s soul was not only a powerful monster by right, a werewolf, one that could be proven to be nothing but trouble if not monitored closely, but one of the few of his kind capable to actually shift on a whim and defy their own natural law of order…
Hades has lived for so long.
He knows a lot of things.
And he most certainly knows that werewolves are never the kind to harm their own mate. They’d tear themselves apart before they so much as think to lay a hand against their own.
That, he can respect.
He was no fool, he knows Apollo has gotten it all wrong (probably on purpose too), he didn’t really care.
Besides, Hades knows his daughter well enough by now that she is not being coerced into anything, no, no, no, his heir is far too proud, far too mindful to be tricked–unless she sees that such an arrangement benefits her, unless she found it to be fruitful in the long run.
Because no matter how physically strong this werewolf was, when it came to taking down monsters like this one, his daughter had been an unparalleled prodigy… and while Proserpina might have been the youngest in their realm, even the resident monsters of the underworld found themselves fearful of being on the receiving end of her ire lest they ended up descending to Tartarus just like any of the old fools who disapproved of her.
It was kind of amusing to watch his servants cower in the shadow of a little girl holding too much power (and yet knows not how to wield it) which is why it was deeply unfortunate that these traits that would have made a worthy heir had been tainted by her absurd cling to humanity.
Hades found it adorable, to be honest, Proserpina was truly nothing but a little girl at heart playing house with the humans and he had been expecting she would have learned to let go of this childish nonsense on the day William Veil descends to the underworld, once the remaining attachment from her old life slips from her… but it seems another string to the realm of living had found its way, tangling itself to her hands–and this is the one thing Hades could not find it in him to cut off no matter how badly he was itching to rip this flimsy string apart himself before it crawls its way on his only heir’s throat and strangle her just as it had once done to his firstborn so many eons ago.
Depending on how the Fates had seen it fit to weaves the strings together, this werewolf could turn out to be a valuable asset to his daughter in the long run... or become a troublesome threat.
The God the Underworld stared out thoughtfully into the eternally night skies, consuming black and completely starless overhead, the same color as their eyes while shadows danced on the walls of his throne room and his mind danced along with them.
Indeed, the tapestry of Fates had altered.
He had to tread carefully.
She had to tread carefully now.
The stakes are higher on her end, especially with death literally shadowing her steps… but the possibilities were far more thrilling for Hades to stop whatever his daughter is planning.
Because after all these years, should she play her cards right, the heiress of the underworld may just finally convince her father to finally revoke the curse marring her skin. And not to mention… this is the first time his daughter had rebelled against him.
In this life, that is.
“So you found each other again after all these centuries… very well, daughter, defy my commands, render your vows void as you wish,” Hades mused, his voice coming out cold and quiet amidst the dead silence in his world, almost lost from the thousands of whispers from this glorified, never-ending grave, “…but should you become mortal yourself, you might as well be digging your own grave now as it is. And when you fall further, this final lesson will be one I will be most delighted to carve into that stubborn skull of yours. However, should you act wisely, you may finally attain your long-awaited wish, my child. My Amara…”

He laughed, “My poor, foolish prinkípissa,”

. . .
“And while you are here, you shall rule all that lives and moves and shall have the greatest rights among the deathless: those who defraud you and do not appease your power with offerings, reverently performing rites and paying fit gifts shall be punished forevermore.”
–Hades to Persephone Hesiod, The Homeric Hymns & Homerica
. . .

ALASTOR NYX:

It was probably way past afternoon when Alastor jolted awake from his impromptu nap judging by the colors of the setting sun streaked across the walls, making the room look darker than it has any right to.
He blinked.
For a moment, Alastor wondered what woke him up in the first place… only to see William Veil staring down at him with a look on his face that practically says, dude, you’re still here? Why are you still here?
“Hi…?” Alastor offers, his voice still thick with sleep. He couldn’t help but be cautious because he was sure he’s treading on uncharted waters right now, especially without Winters to make the situation a lot less awkward as he sits up properly on the chaise lounge he had been lying on for what seemed to be like hours on end, “Didn’t see you around earlier?”
“I had to de-traumatize a friend,” William muttered in answer and it would have sounded ominous if it weren’t for the equally wary look on his gaze as he stared down at him, “…Where’s my sister?”
“I dunno,” Alastor shifted uneasily because he wasn’t sure if it sounded on purpose but William’s question kind of felt accusing, “…she suddenly disappeared on me.”
William snorted, “You must have been used to it.”
Alastor visibly flinched at that because now that William mentioned it, yes, Alastor was quite used to that–it’s actually kind of scary having anyone and everyone around him disappear out of the blue–he’s quite used to having someone with him (his mother before he and Alistair could even know what was she like, his dad when he fell asleep and never saw awake again, his twin when Alastor took his eyes away for a moment) only for them to leave him behind.
One way or another, Alastor knows his mate is going to do that to him too, that she’s going to leave him behind. And the awful thing is that Alastor couldn’t find it in him to call her out for it.
His mate is a goddess after all, even before crossing paths with him, she had other important things to do like hunting down other monsters being a general menace, mingling with the dead–and now that he thought about it, probably a whole lot more complicated stuff his mortal brain couldn’t comprehend and now, since she had a fight with Hades (and it’s probably his fault too)–that she claims doesn’t, couldn’t involve him.
“Oh shit–” William’s eyes widened, as if realizing just now how hurtful he most likely sounded and good thing this one does! “Sorry man, I didn’t mean it like that. What I mean to say is that,” he cleared his throat, “…yeah, my sister does that a lot. She didn’t mean anything bad by it. She’s just a busy person, I swear.”
That doesn’t make him feel any better.
(‘You’re so sulky…’)
He blinks at his mate’s disembodied voice.
Whoa, wait.
Where the hell did that come from?
Alastor smiled weakly; rubbing at his arm uneasily, trying to keep his mind from racing was that memory from last night? “Nah, it’s cool… oh! I just remembered, Winters gave me your clothes since mine’s shredded, I hope you don’t mind?”
William’s brows furrowed and Alastor tried not to point out just how much the kid resembled Winters right there and then, “It’s no big deal, but… she told you her real name?”
Alastor cocked his head to the side, “From the get-go, yeah. Why?”
The younger (?) man ran a hand through his hair, looking irritated and a bit more confused, “Nothing, just… don’t tell anyone about it.”
“Oh, I see,” Alastor nodded, face blank, “I don’t get it.”
William pursed his lips for a moment, as if weighing how much he should tell. Here, Alastor noticed that William’s eyes were a pale gray, with a bluish sort of color in them… and was also way much more expressive than his sister who has such an excellent poker face despite his apparent paranoia, or so Sean claimed.
“As you can see the two of us being related with each other isn’t public knowledge even amongst the other mercenaries,” and Alastor tried not to snort at that because, lol, I can tell, “…she’s a goddess, I’m human, if the other monsters find out they might ended up targeting me just to get back at her.”
“So does this mean she was human?”
“Half-human,” William clarified.
His eyes widened, “A… demigod,”
“Yup,”
Alastor suddenly felt very uneasy as he considered what he had always speculated but never had given much weight of a thought because hey, he didn’t really care if his mate was human, nymph or hell, she could be a vampire and he wouldn’t care one bit.
But still... Winters could have died during the Righteous Purge all those years ago and he would have been none the wiser.
Suddenly, Alastor felt mad.
Why would the gods even see it fit to kill their children? They should have just stopped fooling around with the mortals if they didn’t even want kids in the first place.
Alastor might have not personally known any demigod back then but he had seen how monsters rose from the depths of the underworld, hunting and–if what Sean told him back then wasn’t a story to keep him from wandering farther–dragging down demigods with them like they were animals meant for slaughter.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right–
“So my being related to my own patron goddess,” William started, pulling Alastor right out of his thoughts, “…please shut up about it.”
Alastor gave him a thumb up.
“Anyways,” William cleared his throat, now looking visibly uncomfortable as he seemed to look Alastor over, as if searching for something, “…what were you two up to this whole morning?”
“Nothing, really well… just talked.”
William looked like he didn’t believe him.
“Oh! I actually woke up late, no thanks to hangover,” Alastor chuckled, rubbing his neck a bit sheepishly, “… and Winters made lunch earlier. Dude,” he tried so hard not to gush, really, he did, “you are one hell of a lucky guy!”
William blinked, “Huh? I… I am?”
“Yeah, your sister’s a freaking master chef,” Alastor tried not to lay his giddiness out too much, it might creep the other out with how much Alastor most probably sounded so whipped, they were still talking about William’s sister, after all, “Don’t worry bud, I’ll make a two-layered cake for you guys sometime soon if you want. Are you a fan of sweets too? What kind of flavor do you want?”
Much to Alastor’s surprise, William laid a hand on his face instead, staying still as a statue like that for some time, breathing in and out noisily.
Alastor suddenly felt very worried at his rather strange reaction. Did he come out too strong; was he too obvious (too desperate maybe)? Was it something he said?
Or was it just him in general?
“Hey, you okay?”
William groaned loudly, “You,” he exhaled noisily through his nose for a moment, sounding so done, “…what the fuck did you guys do while I was out?!”
Alastor faltered, “Huh…?”
And that was when it clicked.
“GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER!” he all but roared, and without thinking, threw a cushion at his mate’s brother.
William yelped, hurriedly stepping aside just in time to avoid it and Alastor would have been amazed by the kid’s swift reflexes if it weren’t for the cushion hitting Winters (who must have been standing right behind William) square on the face.
Wait.
WINTERS?!
The two of them visibly paled as the cushion fell with a barely audible thud to the carpeted floor while Winters remained standing so still, face eerily blank as she stared right back at him.
“…pot calling the kettle black,”
Then, Winters proceeded to kick the cushion right back at Alastor’s face, causing him to fall right back with a muffled, ‘I’m sorry–!’
“Don’t act so innocent!” William fumed, glaring at him, his hands clenching into fists, “I’ve done background checks on you, mister. You may have fooled Winters but I know what kind of a degenerate pervert you are!”
“Oh, wow…” Alastor laughed, weakly, “Stalker much?”
William scoffed, “You’re one to talk.”
“Right back at you,” Winters drawled.
And William straightened up properly almost immediately, holding his hands frantically out as if in surrender when his sister suddenly turned to face him, looking like she was about to smack him in the head.
“Winters, what the hell do you want me to think?!” he screeched in protest, “Out of nowhere, you brought a guy in like, for the first time in forever to the house and–OW!”
“Nothing happened,” Winters hissed to her brother.
With the cushion still on his face, Alastor pouted–although there was a part of him that feels so smug and so ridiculously giddy at the thought of being the only to be brought in her house.
“Finish packing your things up,” she continued, ignoring the way her brother grumbled as he massaged his head on the spot that she struck him, “...we’re going to meet up with Rei Kashima as soon as possible.”
William narrowed his eyes, “So something did happened…”
“Who’s cushion-man?” Alastor asked, standing up.
“Rei Kashima, the son of Hypnos” William muttered when Winters remained quiet, “…one of the three remaining demigods in this world and the oldest known mercenary we have.”
“I thought all of the demigods died?” Alastor glanced at his mate’s direction, “…except for you since you most probably no longer count.”
“No, only three of them were allowed to live thanks to…” William glanced at Winters as well. She raised an eyebrow but otherwise said nothing, he cleared his throat, “well, anyways, special circumstances. You’ve met Nick, right?”
“The son of Athena, yeah,”
“Yes,” William nodded, crossing his arms, “…a son of Athena is far too useful to live. The gods thinks it’s a waste to kill him especially when he dedicated himself to becoming a mercenary and Kashima’s too old for them to worry about.”
“You’ve mentioned that this dude was the oldest you have,” Alastor pointed out, “Seriously, how old are we talking about?”
“Ninety-seven,” Winters muttered.
“Oh wow, and he’s still kicking?”
William snorted, “Kicking? The old man looks like a military general in his early 60s and all he ever does is hibernate. Like what the hell, how fair is that?”
“Okay, now I know you’re tripping,” Alastor snickered, “Humans age quick, you know, even if they’re half-gods.”
Alastor paused, staring at William’s twitching eyebrow.
“Not like I’m saying you look old…” he added.
“You–”
Winters shook her head at them.
Alastor beamed, “Okay, so where is this old man?”
“Kyoto, Japan,” Winters answered, glancing at him, looking faintly amused at the way his jaw visibly dropped.
Because excuse him, did she really say Japan?!
“AS IN THE LAND OF ANIME?!”
“Land of the rising sun,” she corrected, gently, “…but okay, whatever floats your boat.”
He clasped his hands, “Winters, please wear a kimono!”
“…Why?”
“And cat ears too!”
“No.” she sighed, looking like she was kind of expecting to deal with this, “Do whatever you want Alastor but I am not going there for some sight-seeing. And before I forget, what did Alistair say?”
He gave her a grin, feeling like he’s going to start bouncing up and down all over the room in sheer joy because duddddeee, he’s always wanted to go to Japan ever since but he couldn’t since he can’t leave the North just like when he was still the so-called alpha.
Oh, and his conversation with his twin went swimmingly well… actually, they even had a group video call with the rest of his friends (Harry looking like he had a grand time last night with how smug he was while Sean looked like he’s going to hunt all of them down, you’re still the fucking alpha, don’t you dare disappear like that ever again!) and while they hadn’t managed to actually wheedle out some answers from his brother’s sudden disappearance, Alistair had assured him that the goddess of shadows had him–and by extension, their pack–under her protection now, thanks to Alastor being her mate since they have talked it out last night.
(What the hell did those two even talk about?)
No one will disappear out of the blue in the Northern pack just as their alpha once did anytime soon, that’s for sure…
They’ve talked with each other some–more like Sean trying to get in a serious conversation while Alistair and Harry was teasing him about his mate–until he had somehow fallen asleep to the sound of their voices trying to ask him where he is and when he’ll be able to show his face.
She raised an eyebrow, “What’s with that face?”
“A handsome, happy face,” he beamed.
“I’m not sure about handsome…”
“HEY!”
She shook her head, “Well?”
“Well, I need to buy some of my stuff soon because I’m not going all the way back to the North just to do that,” Alastor smirked at her, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
Winters stared, “Please tell me you’re not going to rob a bank?”
“What do you take me for, an animal?!”
“You can literally turn into a wolf,” William muttered.
Alastor narrowed his eyes at them, pulling his wallet out of his pocket with a grand flourish, even making a big show as out of it as he did, and waved it around at their faces, tauntingly, “Of course I have money… and credit card!”
Winters looked confused, “Why do you even have credit card?”
“Huh? Why, sweetheart?” Alastor felt his grin making a big come back as he stalked closer towards his mate until they were standing face to face, “…were you planning to spoil me?”
Planting her gloved hand on his face, she gently pushed him off of her personal space, “Whatever,” she muttered, turning as if to leave again, “…so I suppose you just have to buy some of your things before we leave for Japan?”
“Wait, what do you mean by ‘we’?” William blurted out.
“Hey, wanna come shopping with me later?” Alastor immediately offered, not bothering to hide a knowing grin, “I know this place that sells these humungous ice creams!”
Much to his surprise, that caught her attention quick.
She stared at him, “Where?”
And Alastor knows–he just knows–he had won this round, “Uh-uh, no way, you have to like, help me out with what I should wear.”
“What are you, five?”
“What happened to equivalent exchange?!”
She deadpanned, “I never should have told you about my sweet tooth.”
He winked, “Aw come on sweetheart, I know you want it~”
William, who had been watching their exchange in confused silence, looked at his sister then at Alastor, and then back to his sister again, seeming to be stuck one thing running on his mind, “Wait… wait a minute Winters, what do you mean by ‘we’?!”
Winters ignored him, “Fine. Deal,”
Alastor stifled a laugh at how easy that was, “Oh wow Winters, I should have known all along about your weakness soon–”
“Shut up,”
“Then maybe I could have baited you with–”
“No.”
He laughed, “Seriously you–”
“Pack lightly,” she snapped, voice stern.
Grinning, Alastor saluted, “Yes, ma’am!”
“Winters! HEY!” William suddenly stomped his foot, making them both look at him, “What’s going on? What the hell do you mean by ‘we’?!”
Alastor winced, realizing how rude he must have been. Crap, he didn’t mean to make the kid feel left out, “Oh sorry William, you wanna come along?” then his eyes widened, “Wait, so you have a sweet tooth, too?!”
“What–no, that’s not what I–!”
“For your information, William is worse than me,” Winters crossed her arms, looking like she was relieving some awful memories, “…sometimes he doesn’t even share.”
“Don’t worry, Winters,” Alastor smiled at her, and raised his hand to pat her head comfortingly–only to remember she doesn’t seem to appreciate being touched, so his hand only hovered there, a bit awkwardly, “Uh, I don’t think you guys have to share.”
She seemed pleased.
“WINTERS!” William yelled again, “You said we’re going to Japan earlier?”
“Yes,”
Alastor frowned, awkwardly shoving his hand to his pocket, “Wait… that’s what you’re so hung up about?”
‘No, I–ARGH!” William ran a hand on his hair, looking like he was planning to pull at it too, “You were implying plural as in me, you and… and this werewolf–”
He raised a hand, “Alastor’s just fine,”
“–you’re bringing him along?!”
Alastor suddenly realized that Winters was looking at him, her lips curling into a quiet smile when their gaze met.

“…Why the hell not?”