Cursed

Prologue

"Katerina!" Lycan screamed for her as they dragged him away, but she

raised her beautiful chin and looked at him coldly. How could she; to

raise her finger and hiss at him the word that would condemn him to

whatever fate the dukkerin woman thought fit.

He fought against the Rom as they dragged him across to towards the

vardo of the old woman – the dukkerin – gypsy witch, but he was

outnumbered; though afterwards the men would sit round the fire and tell

tales of his strength and how he had beat three of them nearly to a pulp

before they had overpowered him, that would not help him now. As he

was forced to his knees before the wrath of the crone one of the men –

Katerina's cousin- spat on him, his face twisted in anger. "Gadje!" he spat

"violate our women?""I never touched her. Not unless she asked me to"

Lycan retorted and was rewarded with a stinging blow that split his lip

yet again. He was coughing back blood when he sensed the air around

him still; the men went quiet and the onlookers seemed to freeze; he

looked up to see an old, wizened woman with long white hair and

surprisingly good teeth approach him, her mouth set in a grim line.

"Well? What has he done?" she said in a voice that was strangely

seductive and seemed to ripple the very air.

"He violated Katerina" someone shouted out and the woman sucked in air

sharply before fixing her gaze on Lycan. When she spoke her voice was

still seductive and soft but he could hear the barely-controlled anger and

power seemed to radiate out from her.

"You would touch our princess? You? An outsider? Without her

bidding?"

Lycan shook his head, looking her squarely in the eye. He was a rogue

when it came to the women maybe, but a violator? Never.

"I always had her bidding. And she was no virgin when I took her" he

answered only to be rewarded with another blow that nearly broke his

nose."He lies!" Katerinas voice rang out clear as a bell, with all the ring

of truth to it and he cursed her lying heart as he cradled his face in his

hands. "I demand justice!"

"And you shall have it" the old woman said softly. Reaching towards

Lycan she scraped her nails down his face deep enough to blood him,

then raised her hand overhead, looking at the moon which hung ripe and

nearly full above him. She began to chant, almost a keening, in a

language he didn't understand, but whatever she said caused the men to

shrink away from her, and he heard even Katerinas sudden gasp.

Whatever this was, it was bad, very bad.And then the woman whirled

round and struck him hard enough that he fell face forward onto the grass,

into merciless oblivion.

When he woke it was dusk, which, he quickly realized as he sat up and

shook his pounding head, meant he had been out cold for the rest of the

night and all day. He started to his feet, looking around for anymore

attackers, but the fields, as far as he could see, were empty.

The gypsy camp had gone.

He sat down and surveyed the damage; he was bloody and aching but

nothing appeared to be broken; nothing had been stolen either, his watch

and gold coins were still intact as were the silver spurs on his boots. He

remembered the old woman and the way her chant had seemed to instill

fear in the very night around him and shook his head. Gypsy tricks.

And yet…as the sky above him darkened Lycan felt an aching deep in his

body that had nothing to do with the beating. His very bones seemed to

hurt. He lay back down, the grass soft and welcoming, and found himself

falling back into a coma-like sleep.

He awoke screaming, pain racking

through his body like fire, every muscle stretching and bones feeling on

the verge of snapping, his body trying to twist in ways it should not be

able to. In panic he tried to stand, to run, but pain forced him onto all

fours and he found himself sobbing, begging for it to stop. What in Gods

name had the witch done to him? His last coherent thought before the

beast overtook his soul was how beautiful the moon looked, hanging full

and bloated in the sky overhead, calling him like a beacon…you are mine

now…forever.

Chapter One

‘May you wander over the face of the earth forever
Bound by blood, trapped by the moon
Until you find she who keeps the curse together
In her death will be your boon’

Rosa straightened up and pressed her hands into the small of her

back; cursing to herself as he looked at the piles of boxes, books

and artefacts she had yet to sort out. She had been on the go

since nine this morning and it was well past evening time now,

but if she wanted to get the place open for Monday then it had to

be done. “Nais tute Granma” she muttered to herself, using her

grandmothers own Roma tongue to send her a sarcastic thank

you. Rosa couldn’t quite believe she was here, that she had

given up her job in the city to move to the back of beyond and

run, of all things, an esoteric store, but she knew Granma would

turn in her grave if she sold the shop or let anyone run it who

was not ‘of the blood’. Secretly, Rosa had always thought her

Granma was crazy, but she had loved the old woman with a

passion, and after the death of Mum and Dad when Rosa was

only eight it had been Granma who looked after her, who tucked

her up in bed, saw her through her first heartbreaks and

encouraged her to go off to university and to London. So what

on earth had possessed her to leave Rosa the house and the shop,

knowing both that she would not want them but feel honour

bound to take them on nonetheless? As a child she had loved

this shop, loved the smell of old books and the sound of the

doorbell tinkling with each new customer, the sound of

Granma’s voice muttering mysteriously in the little room behind

the velvet curtain, telling the gullible and brokenhearted what

they had wanted to hear. Rosa chuckled to herself as she

remembered the day the man from the council had come in to

chastise Granma about her overflowing wheelie bin, and she had

sent him on the way with a gypsy curse ringing in his ears. The

fact that Granma was simply reciting her shopping list in

Romani was lost on the poor man, who had come down with a

sudden flu and had to take three weeks off work. “it’s all down

to suggestion” Granma had winked at Rosa, and she had never

forgotten it. Rosa had little tolerance for the world of the

paranormal, she was a political joiurnalist and dealt in hard cold

facts; however she still recited a blessing over her food and

forked her fingers to avert negativity, but she reasoned that old

habits died hard and were a link to her grandmother after all.

Rosa glanced over at the desk, at the old black and white photo

of Granma as a girl, standing next to her father’s painted vardo,

all black curls and grey eyes like Rosa herself.

“Akana mukav tut le Devlesa” – now I give you to God - she

murmured, blinking back sudden tears, and then jumped,

startled, as the sound of the bell rang loudly through the

shopfront.

“we’re not open yet….” Rosa’s voice died in her throat as she

walked crossly out into the shop and saw the intruder.

O my God she thought as a dark-haired, green-eyed man with

the body of a Greek god stood before the counter, scowling at

her as if he were the one who had been interrupted.

“We’re closed” she told him, motioning to the rather large

CLOSED sign in the window. “We’ll be open Monday”

“We? You’re not the owner then?”

Rosa bristled at the abrupt tone of his voice and his direct,

slightly hostile stare. What was his problem?
“Well, yes. I’m the new owner, yes” Rosa found herself drawing

her spine up to her full height – all five feet of it – and crossing

her arms defensively under this stranger’s uncompromising

stare.

“So you’re not the gypsy woman?” he snapped, looking so

suddenly angry Rosa had to take a step back

“I’m her granddaughter, actually” she retaliated, then realised

how teenage and foot stamping the ‘actually’ had sounded.

What is it with this guy?

His face changed from angry to a look of such disgust Rosa felt

as if she had been slapped. She opened her mouth to ask him

just exactly who he thought he was when he turned on his heel

and stalked out. Rosa found herself admiring the curve of his ass

in his black jeans momentarily before he mumbled something

under his breath and left the shop.

Rosa ran out from behind the counter and stuck her head out of

the door but there was no sign of him down the street

Wow, he’s a fast mover, she thought, and then shook her head,

bewildered. She must have misheard him, there were so few

people around who knew the language and he didn’t look like he

had any Roma blood – but she could have sworn she had heard

him say ka xlia ma pe tute – I shit on you!

What a rude, nasty guy, she thought grumpily, turning back to

the pile of boxes and trying to forget just how broad his

shoulders had been in that white shirt or how lush his mouth

even when set in that angry hard line…

Lycan strode angrily into his apartment and growled as he threw

himself onto the leather settee, surveying his masculine,

minimalist apartment that was a far cry from the strange

smelling, cluttered little shop. Channing, his half shepherd half

wolf padded over to him and placed her head in his lap, looking

up at him with adoring eyes. He sighed as he petted her, staring

off into space as he thought of that damned gypsy girl with her

tumbling curls and expressive storm-grey eyes… she was so

beautiful, and almost identical to Katerina, whose face he hadn’t

thought of in so long…

And who started all this, the cursed bitch.

Out of his window the moon was appearing, large and bloated as

it waxed towards full. Feeling the impending change as an

aching deep in his body Lycan buried his head in his hands. This

torture had to stop, and now he had tracked down Katerina’s last

living descendant he might finally be free….it was just a shame

she was so damned gorgeous.. only in her death, will be your

boon…

Chapter Two

Rosa arched her back in delight as he pressed warm lips to her aching

breasts, a low moan escaping from the back of her throat as she reached

down and tangled her hands in his thick black hair, guiding his head

down to where her body throbbed for his kiss. He paused and looked up

at her, his green eyes wild, almost feral, and he growled low and deep as

he moved his body over hers….his teeth grazed the soft skin underneath

her navel, sucking her flesh into his mouth, biting down hard, until her

skin broke and her blood poured like honey into his mouth…

No!

Rosa woke up, sat bolt upright with her hands clutched to her belly, heart

thumping in terror now rather than desire, then buried her head in her

hands, fighting the urge to sob.

Just a dream, it's just a dream…

She tried to soothe herself, but her body felt on fire from the memory of

his touch in what had been shaping up to be the best erotic dream of her

life until..

Until it got icky

Rosa hated blood, had never understood why Granma seemed to set such

store by it. Magic, she had always said, especially curses were all the

more binding if there was blood involved. Of course, this was the same

woman who used parlour card tricks and a certain amount of natural

intuition to have gullible customers believing she was truly seeing their

futures, so Rosa had only ever listened with half an ear, and still cringed

and felt sick when she so much as cut her finger.

A curse bound by blood can only be broken with blood…

Granma's words came back to her and Rosa found herself reaching under

the bed for the small box that had been part of her inheritance, with strict

instructions not to lose it, break it, sell it, let it out of her keeping, or tell

anyone about it. Rosa was beginning to wonder if perhaps the old lady

hadn't been going quite batty towards the end, as she opened the box to

look at the small clay talisman. Crudely fashioned in the shape of a wolf,

and stained with a dark reddy brown that Rosa didn't want to admit to

herself looked suspiciously like blood. As to the history and origins of the

thing, her grandmother had left her no information at all.

I should just throw it away, no wonder I'm having nightmares

Rosa placed the strange little object back in its place under her bed and

lay back on her pillows, praying for a decent nights sleep with no more

erotic or violent dreams of rude – though incredibly sexy – customers.

Tomorrow's Monday…was her last thought before she drifted off into a

thankfully dreamless slumber.

It was three o'clock before he finally made an appearance, not that she

had been hoping he would come in at all, of course, and Rosa was tired

and somewhat bewildered by the half-hinted requests for all manner of

potions and spells, and fed-up with having to explain that this was now

primarily an esoteric bookstore and no, she didn't do tarot or tea-leaf or

crystal ball readings. She had spent her dinner break e-mailing old

colleagues and thinking wistfully of her ordered structured life in

London. Granma would turn in her grave if she sold the shop but surely,

she could appoint someone to run it for her? But even as she thought it

Rosa could imagine the curses ringing in her ear at the mere suggestion of

it.

She was behind the desk sipping raspberry tea and flicking through Marie

Claire when she heard the bell ring and somehow before she even looked

up she knew it was him, his brooding but deliciously sexy aura seemed to

almost enter the shop before he did.

"Afternoon" she said chirpily, unable to stop her cheeks flaming as she

met his eyes, remembering last nights dream and the way his hands had

felt on her skin..

Yeah right before he tried to chew my guts out!

She struggled to keep her composure, regarding him coolly as he leaned

over the desk towards her.

"Could I help you sir?"

He nodded thoughtfully, letting his eyes drift over her face and hair

before his gaze came to rest on her mouth in a way that made her

suddenly want to just lean over and graze his lips with her own..

Get a grip! My good God I really must need to get laid!

"Yes, I'm looking for… a talisman, a sort of charm"

His voice was low and deep and had a strange accent she couldn't place,

but at least he was being more pleasant today. Rosa shook her head

"I'm afraid I don't provide those sorts of services, that was strictly my

Grandmothers forte I'm afraid. But if you'd like to have a look around the

shop you're more than welcome"

The man ignored her suggestion and continued to gaze at her in a way

that made her struggle not to wriggle in her seat. When he spoke however

his voice had that cold, arrogant edge back to it.

"You have nothing? Not even, say, a little trinket, clay perhaps, shaped

like a wolf?"

Rosa sat back, startled. How could he possibly know? No, it must be

coincidence; perhaps her Granma made charms like the one under the bed

all the time, for whatever mysterious purpose. Rosa shook her head too

fast, her curls bouncing around her shoulders.

"As I said, I don't sell that sort of thing. There is a nice collection of

brooches in the display cabinet…." Her voice trailed off as the man

turned on his heel and stalked out of the door.

"Wait!" she called and he paused halfway out of the door, turning to glare

at her over his shoulder, "Yes?" he asked curtly and Rosa had nothing to

say, her mouth open like a goldfish. What had she called him back for?

They stared at each other for a few minutes before he sighed and walked

over to the counter, placing his hands palm up in front of her in

contrition.

"Forgive me" he said softly," I am just disappointed, I had heard a great

deal about your grandmother's skills and was hoping to benefit from

them. If I have not offended you too much; would you like to come for a

drink, perhaps a meal, later tonight? I would like to make up for my

rudeness"

Afterwards, Rosa would swear by the fact that she had opened her mouth

with the intention to politely decline, but instead she found herself

stammering a yes and agreeing to be picked up at seven, and was still

shaking her head in bewilderment as he left the shop, before realizing too

late she didn't even know his name.

Back in his apartment Lycan was pacing, threatening to wear a hole in the

newly laminated floor. Why ask her for a meal? Why not just break in at

night and find the godforsaken thing? It was obvious she had it; her

reaction as soon as she had mentioned the talisman had said it all, and in

any case he could smell the lie on her. Just like Katerina, the lying bitch.

He tried to calm himself, breathing deeply, but with the full moon so

close and the prospect of finally, finally ending this curse, he felt as if he

could Turn any minute. It would be dangerous, so dangerous to be around

her in this state, battling with the urge to kiss that slim white throat, or

tear it out.

But no, that would have to wait until he had found and destroyed the

talisman; then, he could take pleasure in devouring her. And then, finally,

freedom. Freedom from being a slave to the moon, from this curse of

immortality that meant everyone and everything around him died while

he went on..and on..and on…until the curse had eaten his heart and soul

and he had become this; a hard shell of a man whose only release was in

the Turn.And even there he got no peace ; since he had arrived in

Stratford the local Pack had been in uproar; having just lost their Alpha,

the arrival of a lone Were with Lycans obvious strength and authority had

them in a spin, and he had been both offered a chance to fight for Alpha

and been threatened to get out of town as if his life was some Wild West

story. The Alpha female had made no secret of the fact she was hot for

him, her mate was barely cold in the ground and she was laying it on a

plate for him; but beautiful and tempting as she was Lycan had no interest

in her or the Pack. He was Cursed, neither Bitten nor Born, and did his

best to keep well away from other Weres; their politics did not interest

him. He wanted rid of this damned affliction that had him questioning

what the hell he had done and who the hell he had hurt three mornings

out of every month; if he had to kill the beautiful gypsy girl to escape this

curse then so be it. In all honesty, the prospect of getting close enough to

sink his teeth into her both appalled and excited him in a way he had

never before felt. For him, sex and meat had always been two different

things, but now his senses were confused with the impending moon, the

prospect of release and the memory of the delicious, tempting smell that

rose from her lush body..how he was to get through dinner and

concentrate only on pumping her for information about the

talisman was beyond his ken. But do it he must.

Seven o'clock came and Rosa was waiting outside, her curls swept up so

that little tendrils hung teasingly around her face and neck; her eyes

kohled to look even larger than they were, her petite, womanly frame she

had dressed in a simple red shift that hugged every curve without clinging

and complimented her colouring. She looked hot and she knew it, though

she was angry with herself for making so much effort for a man so

blatantly rude. She had tried to convince herself she was only curious as

to what he knew about the talisman – it had crossed her mind that maybe

it was in fact some ancient cultural artifact that might be worth some

money- but that didn't explain the furious beating of her heart as she saw

him walking up the street towards her, dressed simply in a pale shirt and

khaki trousers. He had an almost hypnotic gait to his walk; graceful, easy

and yet as if at any minute he might leap or run; it was almost, she

couldn't help the thought, as if he was prowling, sizing her up for prey.

Before she realized she had done it she was forking her fingers behind her

back; a charm to avert the devil.

But damnit he looks good.

He smiled easily at her, but the sudden tension in the air belied his

careless manner and as he took her arm and began to stroll down the

street with her she felt a sudden flash of very real fear. She didn't even

know this guy, had no idea where he was taking her. Rosa cursed herself

for not finding out his name and address earlier and leaving the details

with a friend; that was how she had dated in London.

"Do not be afraid. And my name is Lycan. I live in one of the apartments

near the river, opposite the train station. And we're going round the

corner to that delightful little Italian restaurant. Please, be at ease."

"How did you…" Rosa let the question trail off. Of course she would be

wary, and it was good of him to put her at her ease and choose

somewhere close to home where she would feel safe but…as much as she

was inexplicably drawn to this sexy, moody stranger, part of her, some

deep instinctual, primal part, was telling her to run…

As they walked into Bella Bella Rosa became aware of the strange effect

Lycan seemed to have on the people around him. Women blatantly stared

as if in the next second they would be rolling at his feet with their tongues

hanging out and other men seemed to nearly bristle at the sight of him,

then avert their eyes as if they too, felt the sense of danger that Rosa

sensed. Yet he seemed oblivious to it, walked in with an air of quiet

confidence and guided her over to a table in the corner, his large strong

hand in the small of her back sending a shudder of desire through her,

flooding her with wetness so that she flushed as she sat down, unwilling

to meet his gaze.

"Tell me about yourself Rosa, please" he looked at her with piercing eyes

as she perused the menu. Deciding on a salad – only because her stomach

was too full of butterflies to eat – she looked up at him warily.

Yet there was something about him that made her almost want to confide

in him, and so she found herself telling him about her parents, Granma,

college, and then her life in London. He seemed particularly interested in

the way she had swapped her small town life with her gypsy grandmother

for a high-flying career in London, and she found herself almost

justifying her choices.

He told her little about himself; he worked in finance, lived alone – apart

from with his dog, which softened his face endearingly to mention her –

had no family and no girlfriend or wife. Rosa found this strange, because

he didn't seem like a player either, in spite of the sexiness that emanated

from him he was nothing but polite, not flirtatious at all.

"So," she said recklessly, “why did you want that talisman anyway? You

just don't seem the type of person to believe in magic"

"I'm not" he retorted "call it a …personal interest. I have a fascination for

Roma culture and these sorts of artefacts were once very significant"

"In what way?" she was fascinated herself now, thinking of the little

trinket box beneath her bed with its strange contents.

"Well, such things were often used in curses, as a sort of container of the

curse itself, especially if made with the victims blood. Your grandmother

didn't tell you any of this?"

Rosa waved her hand, aware that the wine had gone to her head slightly

"Well yes she used to tell me all the old stories..but it's all superstition

you know, even she used to laugh at how naïve people could be…and

curses? Don't tell me you believe in this stuff?"

"What sort of curses did she tell you about?" he was looking at her

intently now, too intently for her liking, and a little alarm was going off in

her head even as she answered him.

"Well, you know, the usual; boils, sickness, afflictions of crops and

animals, death to family members, curses down to the seventh generation,

all that sort of stuff…"

"Did she ever mention curses that might…change people..make them

something else?"

Rosa giggled "What, like turning people into toads?"

Lycan sat back in his chair, exasperated, running his hands through his

hair. He looked out of the window and she realized it would be dark soon,

the night had gone so quick.

"Rosa…I need to walk you home; I have a few matters to attend to.

Perhaps you could have a look through your grandmothers things, see if

there's anything that resembles the talisman I was talking about? I would

be happy to pay you a good sum for it?"

Rosa opened her mouth to question him but he had turned away and was

signaling for the bill. He had withdrawn again, his mood brooding, and

rosa found herself soon walking beside him in silence. He seemed

agitated, almost wired, walking quickly as if he couldn't wait to get her

home. Indignant, Rosa turned to him, pulling her arm from his.

"Thank you, I've had a lovely time, but if you don't mind I'll walk the rest

of the way alone."

"Of course" he inclined his head before moving off down the street so

quickly Rosa fought the urge to shout sarcastically after him. Shaking her

head she crossed the road and went into the park. She'd take the long way

home, clear her head, she thought, which was churning with thoughts of

talismans and rudeness and how lush his mouth was, especially sucking

spaghetti through his lips. Every move of his was graceful, yet powerful

as if containing some hidden strength.

Why is he so interested in that talisman? It can't be worth that much

money surely?

A sudden noise like a low growl came from behind her and Rosa turned,

scanning the park, but could see nothing. It was dark now, the only light

coming from the moon overhead. Rosa had just a second to register it was

full before a shadow came out of the bushes and blocked the path in front

of her.

A dog. It looked like a wolf, but bigger and stockier than any wolf she

had ever seen on the wildlife channel, its fur a rich glossy red-brown.

Rosa smiled at it uneasily and went to move back when it growled

menacingly and crouched low, its yellow eyes fixed on Rosa as if she

were its next meal

Oh god, its going to attack. Rosa began to back away, recalling from

somewhere you should never turn your back on an angry dog, even

though every instinct told her to run, and run quick. The dog walked

towards her, snarling now, and Rosa's nerve broke, but even as she turned

to run it sprang, and Rosa had just a second to register it flying through

the air at an unnatural speed before she was knocked onto her back. Teeth

grazed her throat and Rosa knew the animal was going to kill her, braced

herself for the pain, when another weight hit her and then both were gone.

She sat up, barely noticing her throat was bleeding, and watched as an

even bigger dog, this one deep black in colour, tore into the one that had

attacked her with a ferocity that made the smaller dog back away,

whining, before turning and diving back into the bushes.

Gone. But now an even bigger threat loomed over her. Black and

menacing the other beast stalked towards her, and Rosa was shaking too

badly to move or scream, her breath coming in ragged sobs.

But then, that dog too was gone, and towering over was Lycan, naked and

bloody. And then Rosa did scream. She screamed and screamed until

everything around her went black.

Chapter Three

Back to his mortal form now, Lycan stood over the gypsy girl, watching her sleep off the shock from last night’s events. Her hair fanned out across the pillow, her black curls in sharp contrast to the white cotton, her face soft and lush lips slightly parted as she slept deeply and dreamlessly. Lycan felt himself go hard as he watched her, the aching in his groin longing to push himself into her warm body, and he turned away, towards the window, balling his fists against his thighs.
This woman spoke to his instincts as no other woman ever had; the very smell of her drew him to her, made him long to bury his face in her flesh. She smelled of desire and magic; but more than that, she smelled like mate. In all three centuries prowling this earth he had never sensed that from a female, had begun to think it was perhaps because of his Cursed state, and it made no sense to be feeling this urge now, not even for another Were but for a mortal; and more than that, the mortal who held the key to ridding himself of his curse. Of course, to do so would be to kill her, but if were no longer wolf then he would feel no desire for a Life Mate anyway.
I’d be solving two problems at once.
And yet the thought of having to hurt her stuck in his throat. He tried to rationalise last night’s actions by telling himself if he had allowed Regina – the local Pack’s Alpha female - to kill her then he might never be able to find and destroy the talisman, but the fact remained that Lycan had acted out of a pure, primal urge to protect his mate, nothing more and nothing less. In his wolf form coherent thoughts about talismans and curses were lost to him – in any case, in his wolf state he revelled in it, it was only as a mortal he felt any remorse – all that had remained was the instinct to protect what was his. And for Regina to attack her that meant only one thing – she too, thought Rosa was his. Was occupying the place she herself wanted to occupy.
“Lycan?” he turned at the sound of Rosa’s voice, to see her sitting up, bewildered, then putting her hand to her head in pain. He crossed the room and sat down next to her, eyes suddenly full of concern.
Rosa, woozy and unsure of where she was or how she got here, looked at Lycan, at the softening of his face as he put a hand out to look at her head, and felt a sudden rush of desire. Without being even fully aware of what she did, she moved into him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, one hard on the strong curve of his jaw, and pulled his lips to hers.
“Rosa?” he murmured in protest but the smell and heat of her was too much, the pull too strong, and he found himself pushing her almost roughly back onto the bed, his lips hungry against hers.
Rosa heard a soft moan escape her lips as if it was coming from someone else, she was aware of nothing but this sudden need for him, and as he began to unzip the shift dress she moved to help him, wriggling her body out of it and guiding his face to her breasts, moaning louder as his palms moved over her nipples, already hard for him as he lowered his mouth to suck and kiss and nibble. The sensations seemed to deliver electric shocks straight to the most intimate part of her and she found herself parting her thighs and moving to manoeuvre him between him, throwing her head back in abandon. She was vaguely aware she was acting in a way that was wholly unlike her but the need she felt to surrender to him, to have him take her, was more than she could bear. The throbbing between her legs had reached a crescendo as he lay between her thighs, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing teasingly against her white lace thong, making her burn all the more, raising her hips up to push closer against the erection she could feel bulging against the cloth. He buried his head in her neck and let out a low growl….and that was enough to bring her crashing back to reality, remembering last night and the beast that had tried to attack her…and Lycan?
She pushed him away, scrambling back across the bed away from him, eyes wide withy fear, hands raised in defence.
“Get off me!” she shouted and with great difficulty, trying to ignore the throbbing erection between his thighs Lycan stepped back and away, raising his own hands in a soothing gesture.
“What the hell happened last night?”
He looked at her steadily, unsure of what or how much to tell her.
“What do you remember?”
Rosa looked at him, his expression wary now, guarded, and she shook her head to clear it. She was confused, surely?
“I…was attacked. By a ..dog, I think. And you..were there?”
She looked up questioningly, and he nodded in assent, waiting for her to say more.
“You saved me” she said softly, “But..”
Rosa couldn’t voice what it was she thought she had seen; it had not been Lycan who had saved her but another beast; and then…it had turned into him.
She laughed suddenly, but they both noticed the note of hysteria creeping into her voice as she tried to deny her own eyes
“I must have hit my head..i’m confused..there were two dogs..then you?”
She looked at him as if begging for a rational explanation but Lycan knew now was not the time for sugar-coated platitudes. With Regina on the prowl, she was in danger. The best thing would be to find that talisman; then he would no longer be of interest to the bitch. But could he break the curse without doing Rosa harm?
He sat next to her on the bed, relieved when this time she did not flinch away. She looked beautiful; clutching the quilt to her to cover her breasts, her hair dishevelled over him skim, bare shoulders; he had to pull his eyes away from her, the desire to clutch him to her again, to take her, was too strong.
“Rosa…they were no dogs”
He looked her squarely in the eyes now and a faint sense of nausea came over her as she struggled to comprehend what he was saying…at the edge of her consciousness a voice was screaming the truth at her, but it was too awful to entertain.
“Then what?”
She tipped her chin defiantly as if almost daring him to say the word, looking so like Katerina it made his throat catch. He both hated her and wanted her and would kill to keep her safe all the same time.
Werewolves Rosa. Your grandmother’s tales were true. The beasts were werewolves. I…. am a werewolf”
Whatever reaction he was expecting to his grand confession it certainly wasn’t peals of laughter
“My God you’re as crazy as she was! Werewolves! Let me guess, you’re cursed right? That’s why you want the talisman so badly?! I’ve never heard anything so..” her voice trailed off as he continued to regard her steadily, and she found herself shaking her head in denial, scared again now. If he wasn’t telling the truth – and it was impossible surely – then he was a madman and she was here, alone, in his house.
“So show me”
“I’m sorry?”
She nodded firmly
“You heard. Show me. Become a wolf for me. Now”
Her tone was curt, challenging, and it was only his wolf sense that caught the tang of her fear. He shook his head
“It’s a curse for me; I can only Turn when the moon is full. But I can show you..”
And in the blink of an eye he was over the other side of the room, only a rush of air to show any hint of movement
“You..” she was too shocked to speak, but she remembered last week when he had seemingly vanished out of the street.
“And this..” he walked over to the heavy oak dresser and without seeming to use any muscular effort at all, picked it up in one hand. Rosa gaped, at a total loss for words. Sighing, Lycan put the dresser down and looked at Rosa almost sadly.
“Look, I’l make some breakfast..though it’s practically tea-time, and we’ll talk..if you want to?”
She nodded mutely, watching him walk out of the room and feeling the sudden sting of hot tears at the corner of her eyes.