All Chapters of The Cursed Lycan : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The wintry morning wind presses gently on Leya's numb red cheek, soft wisps of dark hair falling over her scrutinizing bright cerulean eyes. With a petulant huff, she blows the dark curl away only for gravity to place it back in position. Leya sighs into the autumn air, a small cloud of mist swirling tentatively over her flushed lips. She sniffs once and adjusts the heavy camo jacket she wears, snow crunching noisily beneath her figure as a result. For once, Leya does not mind the disruptive noise as she had been crouched on her belly in the same position for three gruelling hours. The Forest had been silent, so much so she checked her hearing aids just to confirm that they indeed still worked. The previous night's Blizzard had settled into a soft hiss of snowflakes falling sporadically and scarcely over the bare woodlands. Winter would be arriving and most wild animals, at least the large ones, would have either migrated or holed up i

 Leya knows she is hearing things, perhaps even seeing things out of the corner of her eye, for her power of observation developing fully in the woods is triggered by stimuli so slight as to be subliminal, nagging her nerve endings, forcing her to clutch the rifle even tighter in her cold, trembling hands.The snow is heavy, pounding on her drenched head like a hammer, beating down her clothes, trailing down her face and into her eyes. She blinks and purses her lips while slowly swiveling around; the rifle’s stock rests firmly on her shoulder, her clammy cheek pressing stiffly on the bolt handle. Leya trudges through shallow puddles of melted snow and rain, the wind a sadistic, menacing force that whips at her face with delight. Her boots step over wet leaves and crunching snow, and she uses the rifle’s muzzle to nudge aside low h

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Holland’s worry-filled voice echoes from the other end of the phone. Leya sighs for the umpteenth time despite the slight fluttering in her chest at the prospect of him being worried about her. “I am,” she whispers although her mind isn’t entirely moved by the words that leave her. At his prolonged silence, she opts for a higher pitch in her voice, hoping to convince him and in turn, convince herself. “Really, Holland, I-I’m fine.” Shuffling sounds echo from his side, the opening of a door, ringing of telephones in the precinct. “Christ, Ley,” he sighs and although she cannot see him, his defeated tone paints a vivid picture of the man slumped in his seat, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I should have been there… if I was there-” “It’s okay,” she mumbles while movi

Leya’s eyes flash in the door’s direction, then back at the naked man centred in her living room. He watches her, golden eyes darkening to that of glittering black, like raw hunks of mica under sunlight.  “I know you’re in there, Ley!”  More pounding on her door.  Leya’s tongue darts out and circles her suddenly dry lips. The man does not move from his position, simply gauging her in a sadistic, taunting manner whilst his head tilts in the slightest, ear positioned towards the door. Her stomach clenches along with the rifle she holds. Caught between a hard place and a wall, Leya finds herself requesting of him something she did not think possible; “Don’t move.”

Leya had never given anyone a bath, let alone an adult man.Standing in the small confines of the cabin’s bathroom, she did not realize just how constricting space was, not until Kairo stepped inside.His shoulders seem to hunch inwards as well, the top of his head angled down to prevent grazing the ceiling. He looks uncomfortable but Leya feels nothing close to sympathy for the large man.“I’m assuming you’ve never had a bath,” Leya murmurs as she carefully manoeuvres around the man, wary not to touch his dirt-stained body. Setting the bucket down in one corner of the shower, she drops a scrubbing brush inside, bar of soap, bottle of two in one shampoo, scrubbing gloves, three razors and a nail cutter.She feels him shift somewhere to her side and her eyes slant to peer at the man gazing at the showerhead now at his height. His glancing fingers pick at random bottles aligned on the racks then pops them open before tentativel