Lust Under the Full Moon
Copyright © 2012 by Brandy Corvin
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For too long I had wandered alone with my pack, isolated from the rest of humanity. But then again, I wasn't exactly human. The forest was my territory, my domain. I resided in my little log cabin, content with eking out a meager, but relatively comfortable living as a 'simple woodcutter' to the few humans that knew me.
It wasn't the easiest of lives, but I wouldn't trade it for anything else. I waited with utmost impatience for the full moon to arrive every twenty-eight days with consistent regularity. Sure, I could morph into a werewolf anytime I liked, but it was under the full moon where my powers were at its height and hunting in the forest was the most adrenaline pumping, surreal experience one was ever going to get as a werewolf.
I looked back at Ryan sleeping on the couch in my log cabin. He was a dear, visiting a reclusive isolationist like me every weekend or whenever he could. His deep brown hair billowed lightly thanks to the draft coming from the fireplace. I tried to resist but couldn't, giving in to my desire to caress his cheeks on that finely chiseled face of his.