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chapter 2

Hades

But not for them, the womb of the daughters of the moon is fit to receive our seed, but they were extinct, they were burned as witches, others fled from the fate that the moon had given them, with time their culture was forgotten and they mixed with the common life.

The dream of our pack would be to find a missing link of the moon's daughters that would give us several pups.

The pack pressured me to get married, so I asked for 6 months in Brazil. Something told me that I would find her in Rio de Janeiro.

Along with me came my two younger brothers, Igor and Pietro, they are a kind of dynamic duo who came into the world to annoy me, they are a worse version of Puss in Boots and Donkey and I am Sherek.

I am the grumpy, barely ignored one who would live well in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, with my books, old records, and a warm woman to warm my bed on cold nights.

It is my second day in Rio de Janeiro, and I am already irritated, a place where people are happy at 6:00 in the morning, there should be a law that fines those who wake up early.

Better than a law that sends to court-martial those who wake up early, happy and in a good mood.

Is there anything more annoying than someone smiling at 6:00 in the morning? No, there isn't!

I actually have problems with extremely happy people.

Not that I don't believe in happiness, it exists, it's just not full, what annoys me is that kind of person *Poliana finds something good even plunged into a cesspool of shit up to her ears.

"I'm mired in shit, but at least I'm alive.

Yeah, that pisses me off, are you in the fucking shit, at the bottom of the pit? Get out of there and rip the head off the motherfucker who pushed you in there.

What motherfucker?

Life lesson, there's always a motherfucker, even if you don't know it.

Well, what was I really talking about?

I remembered my second day in the Marvelous City, my first day in the post-doctoral program at the State University of Rio de Janeiro, in history,

Palms for me, I don't like to ask for information and I am completely lost in these corridors, a place of confusing architecture full of ramps and stairs connecting blocks and more concrete blocks that sometimes seem to float in the air.

But at this moment for me it is torture, blocks, letters, numbers, stairs.

Then I saw her, on a bloody sunny March morning, her curly hair loose in a brown cascade with sunburned golden tips, her big breasts tucked into a T-shirt with a big smiling emoji, a pair of jeans that hugged her hips perfectly.

She looked as confused as I am, staring at a crumpled piece of paper. She turns around, looks at me, and cracks a big smile.

Zeus, to be beautiful like that should be considered a sin, and the smell... her womanhood was exuding from every

I try to look away, but it was too late, I was probably drooling with the word Defeated written on my forehead, why she came to me with that damn smile

-Good morning, I'm looking for the twelfth floor room 12. 518 block B, I was told to go up a ramp and turn right but I think I did something wrong.

So that makes two of us, omorfiá mou," I smiled, "I'm more lost than a man in the minotaur's labyrinth.

-You're not from around here, your accent is quite different, where are you from?

-Greece.

-I love Greek-Roman mythology, I find it fascinating, I want to take two periods of ancient Greek as an elective

  • Where do you have to go anyway? - She asks waiting for something to come out of my mouth, I recover from my mental confusion and held out the paper to her who looked at me strangely. - You should be on the 9th floor, this is the 12th, I'll take you there.

She walked beside me up six flights of ramps, told me she was a freshman in pedagogy and how the university was confusing with its corridors and ramps, I drank her words like a child who needs the attention of his mother, I caught myself smiling and slowing my steps so that the final destination would not arrive, I had no idea where I was going, but something told me she knew exactly where to go.

-Ready to go.

We're right where I should be.

-Thank you.

-You're welcome.

She gives another smile and walks off, swinging that magnificent hip, under those thick thighs.

-You.... - I say without wiping the silly grin off my face, and she turns meekly around -Would you like to have coffee with me after my meeting? - She runs her hand through the tangles in her hair and tucks them behind her ears shyly.

-I have a class this morning and then I'm rushing to work, so I don't think I can make it.

-It's just a thank you coffee.

-I'm sorry, but I'll have to decline.

She left, almost running, disappearing through the corridors, and I wanted to chase after her, to convince her to go out with me.

But what would people think?

A foreigner, 1.90 meters tall, running after a small doe, that little thing with almond eyes and chocolate-colored skin that I would fuck until my balls hurt.

I entered the room forty minutes late, the meeting dragged on for almost two hours. I did not assimilate anything that was said my thoughts were on my doe on my hunt.

I leave the meeting in a hurry, clap for me again, I am the new researcher at the history institute, but fuck it. I need to find my omorfiá mou.

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