LOVER'S LUNAR CURSE

the mountains, was eerily quiet at this hour. Emmeline Hawthorne stood at the edge of her cottage, staring out into the forest as if it were calli

shook it off, dismissing it as nothing more than the stormy weather rolling in from the north. It had

she thrived in it. The life she'd built in Moondale was a quiet one, far from the chaos of her past. She had long ago turned her back on the shadows of magic and deceit, choosing in

past had a way of creeping up on

e scent of burning wood mingling with the earthy fragrance of the dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. Her hands mo

of panic through Emmeline. Her body froze, every muscle taut. That growl-it didn'

ough the trees, rich with pain and desperation. Emmeline's heart raced, her pulse quickening. No one from the to

hing open the door and stepping into the cold night air. The moonlight bathed the world in a ghostly glow, casting everything in sharp cont

breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The howling continued, each cry more guttural t

. Werewolves weren't unheard of in the mountains, though she'd never encountered one herself. Legends spoke of cursed wolv

of becoming a part of

it-a presence, powerful and tangible, lurking

nd him, Emmeline's h

clothes torn and shredded as if he had been through some sort of battle. The strange thing, however, was his eyes-pale, almost glowing

t, there was something about him-something familiar

. His scent hit her then-musky, wild, like the forest itself. Her puls

ently shaking his shoul

ecognition in them, though his gaze was hazy. His lips parted, but no words came out-jus

her voice soft and soothing.

him pain. His hand twitched toward her, reaching out as if seeking something. Desperati

rp and intense, as though he were drawing on something deep within her. She felt a tug in her chest, a connection she couldn't

oice hoarse, barely a wh

s. The power that coursed through his touch had left her breathless, and y

onvulse, as though something inside him were fighting to break free. He w

him here to die. There was a deep wound on his side, oozing blood.

nd his body contorted in agony. Emmeline gasped as his skin seemed to ripp

ight in front of h

ere

ything fell into place. The howling, the strange energy, the pull

that roamed the forest, but she never imag

lay where the man had been. Its eyes were still the same-bright, almost glowing, but now filled wi

didn't

first time she'd encountered a wounded creature, though this one was far more dangerous than a

trying to calm both the wolf and herse

eting hers in a silent plea. It was vulne

breath and prepared to d

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ture before her. The power emanating from it was undeniable, raw, and untamed. She could fee

never seen one up close, never felt the raw force of their existence. The wolf before her, though not fully in control, was not th

and weak. The injury on its side-if it was even possible to call it an injury-seemed to be the s

this was dangerous, and the risks were immense. Yet,

She didn't know why, but something about the wolf's presence felt... familiar. Was it possible tha

't let fear control her. She was a healer, and she had faced c

by something far more magical than a mere physical attack. The edges were jagged, and the blood that seeped from it shimmered

A cursed werewolf was something far mor

something to stop the transformation long enough for her to tend to his injury. There was one potion-an old remedy pa

its breathing ragged. The glow in its eyes was fadin

d back toward the cottage, her footstep

other ingredients she kept hidden for occasions like this. She wasn't foolish enough to ignore the risks of using wolfsbane, but she knew its potenc

un to feel for the creature in the woods. It was strange, unsettling even, but there was no time to question

h the mixture and grabbed a clean cloth, wrapping the vial in the fabric

came more frantic, his body shifting again, trying to regain control. She quickened her

en, sh

lf was

Her mind raced. Had it l

ching for any sign of movement. She cal

again but still unconscious. The transformation had taken its toll on him. His skin was pale, his chest rising and falling with shallow breat

t before pressing a hand to his forehead, feeling the feverish heat of his skin. H

a single drop. His lips parted instinctively, as though he could feel the relief it wou

riking. His dark hair was wild, and his features were sharp and angular, with a jawline that could cut glass. His body was muscular, his ch

her in since she first laid eyes on him. It wasn't just the curse that made him dangerous-

s. She needed to help him. She gently repositioned his head, placing it on a soft pat

ing, and she needed to stop the bleed

mething was wrong. The wound didn't feel like a normal injury. There was som

back down from a challenge, but this was different. This wasn't

sent a ripple of

only just

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