The Moonlit Curse

Ch 3: Alpha

Well, that could have gone better, August thought bitterly. He tilted his head to the side to look at the poker. It also could have gone a hell of a lot worse. All three inches of the end of the wrought iron spike were buried in the floor, and the curve of the hook dented the wood.

Thank the goddess she wasn't his problem anymore. He followed pack law surrounding the newly bitten. He reached out and tried to help, and even if that attempt was a disaster, the next step was to send a letter to the alpha and his luna. More than likely, Elora would be the one sent to guide the new werewolf down the path of the curse to join the pack.

His luna was an icon of endless patience and as persistent as a steady stream, and she was about to face off against a mountain. There was only one of two ways this was going to go. The stream would cut through rock. Or it would be diverted, and the mountain would remain untouched.

He already had his money on the latter.

Oh well. August stood up and gripped the handle of the poker to pull it out of the floor. She was Elora's problem now.

His eyes widened and a sudden thrill of excitement rushed through him. The damn thing wouldn't budge. It was really stuck in there. The poker was heavy, definitely not easy to handle, and she had wielded it like a toy.

Kiya Bridges.

If he'd been told that she, of all the soldiers from the Monster Corps, would be fighting the curse so effectively he wouldn't have believed it. Kiya was so... average. Average height, average build, average appearance. She could have fit in anywhere in the central band of the world around the capital, and even further north if she put on a few more pounds. Absolutely nothing about her stood out when they'd first met.

So, where the hell did this—there was no other way to put it—warrior come from?

It had only been a day and a bit since she'd been bitten. Right now, the curse should be having detrimental effects. She shouldn't be able to shovel ashes out of a fireplace for an hour and a half. She should be exhausted, weak, barely able to keep her eyes open. She shouldn't even be able to walk, let alone knock him on his ass.

If she survived, she was going to be one hell of a werewolf.

It really was too bad she was from the Monster Hunter Corps.

The very thought was a dump of ice and water on the fire building in his chest. She was a fucking soldier. If they weren't careful, they'd both be skewered with silver and their wolf heads would be mounted on a wall as a reminder to the world that monsters still existed.

No. He would die before he let them touch her. He would never let them hurt her.

In his sudden temper, August ripped the poker from the floor with too much force, tearing out the plank along with it. Odd. He would always be stronger than a human, but so soon after the full moon he was supposed to be at his weakest. Instead, he felt better than he ever did after the lunar cycle. Very odd, indeed.

Not my problem, he reminded himself. He needed to walk into the back room and write a letter to the alpha. He needed to know as soon as possible that the curse had spread.

So why didn't he? Why did the thought of someone else knowing about Kiya make his blood boil?

The door to the inn opened again for a man heavily layered in warm clothes to stomp inside. Even before he closed the door, August recognized him and his scent. Alpha Hadyn Eldred. He shook the snow from his shoulders and pulled away his scarf to look at August holding a poker and broken piece of flooring with a raised eyebrow. "Doing some renovations, I see."