The Curse of the Sun and the Moon

Self-hating werewolf, Rosen, has found the cure to the werewolf curse that has condemned her since childhood.

She will need the help of Laurent, a pretentious, too good-looking for his own good, fire demon to succeed in breaking the Moon Goddess curse.

With the magical Moon mirror in hand, will Rosen be able to do what needs to be done? Will she be able to let go of the one thing she holds dear for a chance to become fully human?

Cover by the Fantabulous @AuRevoirSimone. she don't do request tho.


10. Dhol, dark and handsome.

We had arrived in the city of Jaipur, the capital of Rajasthan, India and were staying at a rather quaint hostel of sorts; we were to remain there until Laurent found us a translator and guide to lead us through the unforgiving Thar Desert.

I had a little less than a week before the blood moon and I could do nothing but trust that Laurent would find the guide in time.

I kept to myself when he was away; I stood out like a red baboon butt among the people of Jaipur, but I did not entertain them, although they were friendly enough. I stayed in my room, venturing only once the sunset and it was safe enough for my paleness to wander. For sixteen years I lived a rugged and lonely life, with only Jack to keep me company. I was not a fan of big cities or too many people and the jostling city of Jaipur was just that: people, noise, bright colors, yellows, red, oranges, blues, purples, greens, transportation, the smell of gasoline, the smell of animals, music, food, noise, noise – noise. My senses were bombarded from every which way.

I sighed as I sat beside the windowsill, willing any sort of air to grace my sticky body. It was mid afternoon, the hottest time of the day and I was miserable. I couldn’t bear to move from the window, as it was my only source of air. But what really irked me was where I was miserable and pathetic, Laurent was the opposite.

Dhol, dark and handsome -- He relished the weather, and walked around shirtless, frolicking with the natives of Rajasthan. I glared at him from my room above, as he gleefully strut around the courtyard.

My main issue with Laurent D’incendie was not how much of an irritating, pretentious, ignoramus of a Frenchman, he so proudly was, or even that he was a partial Fire demon of the lamest variety…

No. My problem with Laurent D’incendie was that he loved to strut around shirtless.

Now, if he wasn’t built like fucking Hercules I would not have given him a second glance – but he was and it was distracting.

I watched as he walked around with his new Rajasthani friends. Laurent who disregarded me completely – the man who sometimes would grace me with an annoyed sigh – was no less than Mr. Congeniality amongst the Rajputs.


I hated how those exotic dark haired beauties walked around him. Their giggles made their way to my window and burned into my ears.

Who cares? He’s a demon. Let them flirt with a demon.

But the irritating feeling would not go away; it ate at my brain. I wanted to go down there and drag him away from their slender exotic forms.

I should command him to stay in the room and be miserable with me. I should command him to make me a fucking sandwich. Idiot.

But I was too tired to yell at him from my window.

I groaned as I laid my head on the windowsill. “This fucking sucks.”

I closed my eyes, the heat was seeping my energy away; I was drowsy and unfocused, in a sort of dehydrated haze.

The morbid heat was too much for modesty; I pulled off my sweat stained black tee and threw it on the ground and let my skin breathe.

If I was to transform, I couldn’t remain in the city – it would be carnage. Worst-case scenario? Laurent doesn’t find the guide and I transform and feast upon the people of Jaipur.

I just had to find the priestess, do the ritual and be free of the werewolf curse. Surely, a few more days with that frustrating Prius driving idiot would be worth it?

Sweat drenched my bra and I sighed.

A few more days and I would leave the heat, the sand, and the spices and maybe go somewhere cold … Alaska?

That sounded fantastic.

I greedily snatched any breath of breeze from window and closed my eyes, a warm spicy tendril of air curled around me.

“I have good news, wolf,” Laurent's voice resonated from my bedroom entrance.

My eyes snapped open and my body tensed.

“I found the …” His voice trailed off.

I could feel my body heat, and the redness made its way to my face. I knew why Laurent paused. I could feel his eyes trail down my bare back. I could feel his eyes on me. But he didn’t pause because he was so enticed by my sweaty sun burned bare skin – no.

My ears burned.

It was because of the scars. He paused because his eyes were on the red scars left behind from the four-claw of the beast that ruined my life. He stared at the scars that I kept hidden my whole life -- the scars that no one saw.

They were ugly things -- red and jagged, as prominent as the day I got them.

Not even Jack had been allowed to see them and it was that bastard who inflicted them. The scars reminded me everyday of what I was – the fucking monster I was. I didn’t have to transform to know that I was a beast; I could just reach around and feel the scars of the claw as it made it way from my back to my ribs.

“Your back …” Laurent breathed. I kept my eyes out the window. I could not turn around. No one was meant to see those scars, especially him.

I could hear his steps as he made his way to me.

“Are those werewolf scars?” he asked softly.

I clenched my fists. I couldn’t believe my ears. I did not need his pity -- pity from a fucking fire demon? A lame partial Fire demon at that ... that was a level of pathetic I never thought I would fall to.

“Get out,” I hissed.

But Laurent remained standing behind me. I could feel his hand hover over my back.

“I said get out!”

When he did not move, I turned around. My gun was on the other side of the room but I still had my fists.

Laurent held my gaze. I did not like the way he looked at me. I did not understand it. I understood fear, anger, and resentment. I understood hate, greed and lust. I understood disgust, but I could not comprehend the way he looked at me.

His dark eyes were soft. Not indifferent. Not Annoyed. Why the fuck was he looking at me like that?

“Don’t you dare pity me,” I snarled.

But Laurent just continued to look at me in that calm understanding way. “How old were you,” he asked carefully. “When it happened?”

I glared at him. “Fuck you.”

He stepped closer, pushing me against the window. “Tell me.” Laurent had his hands on either side of me, firmly grasping the windowsill.

I didn’t want to look into his eyes. I didn’t want to but I did. It was a mistake. I was caught into his mesmeric gaze – dark and calm, although his breathing was heavy.

I did not want to acknowledge that Laurent was asking me for something deep, something that I did not know if I could give.

“Tell me what happened, Rosen.”

I could feel my anger dissipating and resolve slowly falling.  

Rosen -- The way he said my name was so right and I wanted to hear it again.

“Why do you care?”

A small smile played on his inviting lips. “We are the same you and I.”

I couldn’t speak. He was too close to me. The heat, his fragrance, and his voice – it was messing with my head.

“I killed a man,” I whispered. I wanted to shock him. Have him step away in disgust and disappointment. I wanted him to do something I would understand.

“I killed the man I’ve been living with. Another werewolf.”

Instead of cringing and running for his life, Laurent glared at me. His dark eyes flashed and for a second they almost turned a fiery red.

“Was he your mate?"

I blinked, surprised at his response. I did not know if it was my overactive brain, but he almost sounded jealous.

“What? No. He was the werewolf that killed my parents and turned me. He raised me and when I found out he was the one who ruined my life, I shot him in the head.”

I waited for Laurent to say something, to express his horror, but the partial Fire demon shrugged.

“Are you trying to scare me?” He leaned into me and softly chuckled. “Rosen, the lone wolf. You do not scare me.”

I could feel my ears burn. His breath tickled my neck. Just a few moments ago I wanted him to leave the company of the beautiful Rajasthani girls and be with me.

Well, there he was. I may have not scared him. But he sure as hell frightened me – rather, the way he made me feel frightened me.

He continued to smugly gaze at me. I knew I had to get him out of the room. He had to leave or else things would get complicated and I didn’t want that; I didn’t need that. It was bad enough he saw my scars. I couldn’t have him any closer than that.

“I command you to leave,” I hissed.

I watched as he struggled with the command. His hands turned white at the knuckles as he held on to the windowsill. He kept his gaze on me. I stared back with a smirk.

He sighed as he let go and turned around. “I found the guide. We leave tonight,” he stated and walked out of my room.

I stood where he left me, paralyzed and in daze. My legs shook as I sank to floor.

I had never felt so vulnerable in my life; never had I felt so scared and pathetic and it was all because of him. I knew then that something changed between us. I laid my head on my knees and ran my hands through my hair, pulling at it in frustration. I didn’t understand. I just didn’t understand what had just transpired -- 

Or maybe I did and I just didn’t want to admit it. I couldn’t admit a reality that passed through my body every time my heart thudded against my chest.

Laurent D'incendie. 

No matter how much my mind denied the strange surge that ripped through my veins, my heart didn't.

"Laurent," I whispered into my knees. 


Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...