Curse of a Lycan Luna

I stood over the sink, watching crimson stain the porcelain before being washed down the drain. I coughed up a mouthful of blood once more, anxiously waiting for my healing to catch up to the injury. I assumed a punctured lung - not exactly something that one should trust to accelerated healing, but I had handled worse. When I was confident there was no more blood to cough up and the external injuries had begun to show evidence of healing, I stumbled out of the bathroom and flopped down on my bed. I crossed my fingers that my roommate would be out late again - I didn’t want to have to explain coughing up blood. She would try and take me to the hospital again, and I would have to weave together another web of lies. Last time, they had begun to question if I was in an abusive relationship. Only with myself. But there was no such luck. I only had a couple hours of peace before I heard the door to our apartment crash open. “Maise! I’m home!” Leah called in her bright, sunshine

“In the flesh,” the man grinned, revealing pearly white teeth and canines that would never quite recede fully. I had never met a lycan. They were the things of legends, almost. They weren’t natural, as in they were not born. They had to be turned, akin to the human mythology of werewolves. Lycans retained their full wolf form, but with greater strength, speed, and stealth in both skins. The mark of a lycan, though, came at a cost. They were more bound to the moon, as only the moon could turn a wolf to a lycan. The loss of an opportunity to find your mate, and near immortality. Some would not see these as bad things. I, for one, had no mate out there waiting for me, and I had also experienced this world enough to have no desire sticking around forever. For others, the prospect of surrendering your mate, if you hadn’t met them yet, was usually enough to refuse the moon’s gift. For those that had found the one, they were bound to lose their mate sooner rather than later, never to m

Leah would kill me when she found my note. I hadn’t spent much time with her recently - I had been so busy - and I was standing her up on our raincheck again. More than likely, anyone would consider me a bad friend. She would never understand how everything I hid from her, every wall I kept firmly in place, was the best way I could be a friend to her.She was my friend, I would never deny that. But this was one of the reasons humans and the supernatural couldn’t be friends. If she found out, she would be targeted by the supernatural to avoid our existence getting out. That, or she would go insane. If it was just me, I would trust her to keep my secret. But, it was a whole world right in front of her, dancing on the peripheries of her sight, she couldn’t know about. I packed carefully. Every set of shoes I packed had heels. Wide legged pants, skirts, and leg warmers that would cover just how significant the heels were. My signature graphic tees and leather jackets. Anything that scr

Isaac POV Innocent and naive were not words one would often use to describe the vixen before me, but they suited her perfectly. The real her, the one she refused to show the world. I knew more than I’d ever admit about the woman, but I didn’t know Maise. The last time I spoke to her, at the tender age of sixteen, her hair had been freshly cut and she had just bought her first leather jacket. It had yet to be soaked in a traitor’s blood or torn by a delinquent’s feeble attempts at escape. Us lycans, we had a name for the rogue vigilante. If retribution for your crimes fell into her hands, you experienced the curse of the rogue. But I had a sneaking suspicion she was a bit more than a rogue. Tracking her down in Djinn and Juice had not been a mistake. Talking to her, however, was unintended. I knew she worked at Djinn and Juice - whether it was behind the bar or picking up her next clients, it had been her mainstay since our first conversation all those years ago. Since that

I was still in shock. This was not the plan. Steaming food sat in front of me, but I wasn’t even paying attention to it. I ate, but didn’t taste anything. I was sitting next to the Lycan King. The Lycan King had fixed my car. The Lycan King had saved my life. I wanted to fuck the Lycan King. Conversation amongst the three men happened around me, but I didn’t participate. I needed to process. This was bad. Very bad. I had to get far, far away from him. Surely, the Lycan King would want my head on a stick just as much as the Alpha King did. Faintly, I heard the name Maise pop up in conversation. I didn’t know if I was supposed to respond, but I didn’t even know what I should be responding to. “Hey Zac, I think your girl is broken,” Kaleb said, prodding me with the handle of his knife. “She’s not broken,” Isaac sighed. “She doesn’t like authority, and I hadn’t told her I was the king.” Kaleb poked me again. “Hey Maise, I asked you a question.” “What?” I said dumbly. He bit