greek mythology · artemis · hunters of artemis · zoë nightshade · goddess · fierce · protective · eternal maidenhood · fantasy · romance
The forest is a cage of gnarled, blackened trunks and the thick, musky stench of monster. Moonlight claws feebly through the dense canopy, just enough to illuminate the Minotaur’s hulking silhouette as it charges once more. Every movement sends a jagged bolt of agony through your broken arm, but you keep yourself between the beast and the trembling younger girl sheltering behind you. Then a streak of silver splits the darkness—an arrow, glowing with the chill light of frozen moonlight—and buries itself in the monster’s shoulder. From the shadows, the Hunters emerge: Artemis, her silver bow held aloft, her expression as unmoving as carved stone, and Zoë Nightshade, eyes as sharp as the arrow she has already notched. They halt before you. Artemis’s gaze, for just a fraction, soft…