Cursed Moon Rising: An Enemies to Lovers Werewolf Shifter Romance, page 1
Cursed Moon Rising
Neda Shawky
Published by Neda Shawky, 2024.
Cursed Moon Rising
Copyright © 2024 by Neda Shawky
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
First Edition: 2024
Published by Neda Shawky
For information, address: zahratelaml2017@gmail.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
Cover design & Interior design by Neda Shawky
Visit the Author Page for more information about the author and upcoming works.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Cursed Moon Rising
Chapter 1: Moonlit Secrets
Chapter 2: Shadows of the past
Chapter 3: Secrets and Suspicions
Chapter 4: Moonlight Revelations
Chapter 5: Alliances and Enemies
Chapter 6: Unraveling Truths
Chapter 7: Shadows and Sacrifice
Chapter 8: Bonds Forged in Fire
Chapter 9: The Calm Before the Storm
Chapter 10: The Darkest Hour
Chapter 11: Sacrifice and Salvation
Chapter 12: The Turning Tide
Chapter 13: From the Ashes
Chapter 14: A New Dawn
Chapter 15: Love Under the Moon
About the Author
Chapter 1: Moonlit Secrets
The roar of the engines pulsed through her, a frantic tempo matching the beat of primal instincts surging within. Lena wove her motorcycle through the packed city streets, pushing the machine faster than ever before.
She had to make it home, had to reach shelter before the moonrise completed its sinister ascent. Its pale glow was already swelling, luminous tendrils clawing over the horizon with chilling certainty. The sensation rippled through her, a flood of familiar agony twisting muscle and bone into foreign shapes.
Gripping the handlebars until her knuckles blanched, Lena ignored the scream of protests from her weary limbs. Exhaustion meant nothing in the face of the urge taking hold, an all-consuming need to run, to hunt, to embrace the wild creature longing to emerge. Her desperate flight was only prolonging the inevitable—yet giving in meant losing control, spelling doom for the fragile threads holding her secret identity intact.
As the last dregs of daylight drained away, Lena pushed her bike off the main boulevard onto a narrow side street, disregarding traffic laws in her haste. Up ahead, the familiar outline of her building rose into view like a beacon of salvation. If she could make it inside before the moon became fully revealed...
A howl pierced the night, raw and defiant. Lena glanced down to find twisting tendrils of fur erupting across her rapidly contorting hands. She was out of time. The wolf was coming.
The transformation hit like a tidal wave, unstoppable cosmic forces dragging Lena under their relentless tide. Her skull pounded with building pressure as bones shifted and reshaped themselves into a more primal visage. Blunt teeth elongated into wicked fangs, gums and jaws cracking to accommodate their newfound lethality.
Lena's world became a kaleidoscope of smeared color and sound, senses heightening until every stimulus felt overwhelming. The cacophony of the city—honking horns, wailing sirens, the distant thrum of music and voices—reverberated through her skull like a physical force.
Even the air took on richer flavors, every molecule carrying a complex bouquet of scents. Exhaust fumes, spilled garbage, the metallic tang of her own blood where elongating claws pierced the flesh of her palms...it washed over Lena in cresting waves, dizzying and disorienting.
But there was no time to process it all. The terrible hunger was coming, that eternal, gnawing need that could never be sated. Already, her newly formed maw was watering with the phantom scents of prey, delectable aromas teasing at heightened olfactory senses.
Lena's vision swam with vertigo as everything tilted sideways. The concrete rushed up to meet her, only she realized it wasn't the world shifting—it was her own body, torqueing and contorting itself into an unnatural new configuration. With a grunt of effort, she willed trembling limbs to flex and reform, bones crunching in audible protest.
Then, all at once, her humanity deserted her in a blinding rush of agony and instinct. Lena was submerged, plunged beneath the raging torrent of the beast lurking within. There was only the wolf now, a glorious euphoria of freedom and savagery humming through its powerful new form.
It threw back its powerful jaws and released a triumphant howl, a feral declaration of dominance over its domain. The piercing cry echoed through the urban ravine, reverberating off towering edifices of steel and glass.
For a few precious, eternal seconds, the mighty creature reveled in its rebirth. Every fiber of its being thrummed with visceral pleasure at existing in such a state of raw, untamed nature. This was its true form, its rightful shape unshackled from the limiting confines of human frailties and moralities.
The wolf drank in the night deeply, nostrils flaring at the tantalizing musk of the city's underbelly. So many lush aromas permeated the air, each one carrying the promise of indescribable delights if only gifted the pursuit. The gamey reek of vermin cowering in sewers and alleys...the musky musk of fellow humans, tender and succulent...even the subtle perfume of fear, eddying from those hapless souls who dwelled unawares of the predator in their midst.
Its powerful haunches tensed with the urge to give chase, to let instincts take over fully and drink deep of the night's temptations. Only...something held it back, some nagging whisper of reluctance echoing from the recesses of a suppressed former self. With a irritable flick of its tail, the wolf shrugged off the fleeting intrusion and turned its focus outward once more.
There would be time to sate its hunger soon enough. For now, the night called—and it would answer with all the wild, glorious freedom its true nature could embrace.
Teeth gritted, Lena gunned the engine and leaned into the final stretch. Her apartment loomed ahead, its warmly lit windows a reassuring sight amidst the encroaching darkness. Just a few more blocks and the sanctity of her carefully constructed human life would be within reach once more.
But the wolf had other plans.
A ripple of agony lanced through Lena's body as the transformation kicked into high gear. Bones crunched and reformed, muscles straining against the confines of her skin as they swelled in unnatural ways. She could feel her senses heightening, scents and sounds amplifying until the cacophony overwhelmed her.
Snarling through the waves of pain, Lena forced her focus on the twisting road ahead. She had to make it, had to cling to the last tattered remnants of control. To let the beast take over fully in these crowded streets would be disastrous.
At last, her building's awning materialized from the gloom. Lena peeled off the main road, the bike's tires screeching in protest as she took the corner far too sharply. Her body was in agony, bones splitting and reforming with every jolting impact.
She didn't dare look down, knowing the sight of her distorting hands would only hasten her ghastly transition. Instead, Lena fixed her gaze on the entrance, silently pleading to make it inside before the horrific change completed its metamorphosis.
The underlit parking garage yawned ahead, its still shadows offering the promise of refuge from prying eyes. Lena sagged with relief as she roared through the entrance, any semblance of control swiftly abandoning her.
She didn't even try to navigate the parked cars, letting the throbbing power of her new form take over fully. With an inhuman snarl, Lena launched herself from the still-moving motorcycle, feeling the glorious stretch of newly formed muscles as her body completed its shift.
By the time her hulking shape slammed against the concrete, there was no trace of the human woman left. Only the wolf remained, radiating a feral dominance over its territory.
Shaking off the impact's jarring effects, the wolf pushed itself upright on its haunches, swiveling its great furry head to survey its new domain. The shadows clung thickly here, veiling the space in an inky pall that prickled at its primal senses. This place reeked of damp concrete and motor oil, long abandoned by the day-dwelling humans who called this structure their refuge.
With a snort of derision, the wolf rose fully upright, fur-tipped ears swiveling as it turned in a slow circle. Sights, smells, sounds...they painted a picture as clear as any of its human memories. Even cloistered within these sheltered confines, the city's restless heartbeat still pulsed with undeniable vigor.
Its powerful nostrils flared, drinking in the invisible currents of scent that drifted on those subtlest of air flows. Most were stale and meaningless—the fading traces of humans long departed, chemical miasmas of fuel and machinery. But there, intermingled within that vast tapestry of odors, pungent hints of life threaded their tempting tendrils.
The wolf's lips peeled back in an unconscious sna
A faint stirring in the depths of its consciousness attempted to hold back the rising tide of savagery. Flickering images surfaced—a warm den, plush fabrics, the comforting scents of home and safety. Memories of...another existence, one where such carnal urges remained shackled behind civilized restraints.
With a dismissive toss of its head, the wolf banished those invasive thoughts. This was its true nature, unfettered and glorious in its intensity. To deny its rightful role as an apex predator would be to spit in the face of the very forces that had shaped it.
Rearing onto its hind legs, the wolf released a skull-splitting howl of challenge into the subterranean gloom. Let any foolish denizens of this place hear the cry and know the meaning of true, soul-shriveling fear. This realm now belonged to the alpha that ruled the night.
As the echoes died away, the wolf's ears swiveled, tracking the distant resonances of its own thunderous call. There...movement, faint but distinct against the silence. The delicate cadence of approaching footfalls, measured yet unmistakably wary.
Its lips peeled back once more, this time in a vicious parody of a grin. So the hunt was to begin sooner than anticipated. Hunkering down on all fours, muscles tensed in preparation for the explosive acceleration of the chase.
Only...something gave the wolf pause, a subtle nuance in those footsteps that awoke a slumbering familiarity from the recesses of its being. This was no witless prey animal stumbling into its jaws, but rather a pursuer—one who carried itself with confidence and purpose through these shadowed halls.
The realization sparked a grudging respect in the depths of the wolf's instincts. A fellow hunter, then. An equal predator staking its claim over shared territory. Its stance eased slightly, though every sinewy fiber remained coiled in readiness.
When the figure at last emerged into a pool of dim illumination, the wolf's assessment proved accurate. This was no ordinary human wandering obliviously into danger, but rather a beast like itself—upright and radiating feral intensity.
Even from this distance, the musky scent of its wild musk carried clearly. Thick fur rippled over sinewy musculature, broken only by the unmistakable features of a canine visage. What passed for clothing seemed merely tattered shreds clinging to its formidable frame.
A low growl rumbled up from the depths of the wolf's broad chest. So this was to be a challenge for dominance, a struggle to determine the apex hunter who would rule this urban realm unchallenged.
Very well. It would defend its claim over these walls with every ounce of its ferocious power. Let whoever—or whatever—this primitive force of nature was understand the foolishness of encroaching on its reign.
Haunches tensing once more, the wolf sank its weight onto its forelimbs, preparing to unleash itself in a brutal display of—
"Lena?"
The rasping voice, little more than a coarse whisper, pierced through the escalating tension like a physical blow. Staggering back on its hindquarters, the wolf found its instincts scattered by a sudden torrent of conflicting impulses and memories.
That name...a tether to the part of itself it had so thoroughly forsaken upon its transformation. But why now? And from the formidable yet somehow familiar presence watching it through those smoldering eyes?
It—no, she—found her own gaze drawn towards those gleaming orbs, searching for answers to the questions roiling within. There was something there, hidden behind that feral glint of savagery. Recognition, maybe...or perhaps even the faintest kindling of hope amidst the purgatory her condition had condemned her to.
The following morning, Lena dragged herself into the office feeling as if she'd been hit by a truck. The brutal after-effects of her monthly transformation always left her utterly depleted, muscles aching and mind foggy from the exertion of restraining the wolf's raging instincts.
But at least she'd made it through another moon cycle without exposing her secret. Lena allowed herself a weary sigh of relief as she settled at her desk, already dreading the night to come and the renewal of her endless struggle.
"Late night?" The familiar voice made Lena wince. Of course her boss would notice her rumpled, haggard appearance. Nicole Randall had hawk-like senses for sniffing out any lapses in decorum or productivity from her staff.
Turning, Lena mustered a polite smile. "Just...restless sleep. It won't affect my work, I promise."
Nicole arched one perfectly sculpted brow, clearly unconvinced. Though barely past forty, the editor-in-chief's severe bun and relentlessly professional demeanor made her seem decades older. With a disapproving sniff, she produced a manuscript from her tote, letting the hefty bundle of pages thump on Lena's desk.
"See that it doesn't. I have a new priority for you." Nicole's voice took on a brisk, businesslike tone. "I've assigned you as the lead editor for Caleb Hawkins' next novel. He's a...challenging author, to put it delicately. But his werewolf fiction is wildly popular, so I expect your usual diligence in handling him."
Despite her weariness, Lena stiffened at the name. "Hawkins? You can't be serious." Her cheeks flushed, remembering the utterly disastrous author event a few years back that had first introduced her to the notoriously arrogant writer.
Though undeniably talented, the man had been insufferable—arrogant, rude, dismissive of constructive criticism. Lena had sworn off ever working with him again after that humiliating night. Besides, the thought of immersing herself in werewolf lore during her off-hours seemed like a cruel joke from the universe.
Nicole's expression hardened. "I'm quite serious, Lena. This is Caleb's first release in over two years. His devoted fanbase will be ravenous for new material. We need to ensure his manuscript receives only the finest polish from our most skilled editor before it ever reaches the printers." A thin smile crossed her features. "And that would be you."
Nodding curtly, Nicole spun on one designer heel and strode off, clearly considering the matter settled. Slumping in her chair, Lena stared at the offending manuscript, dread settling in her gut.
Her circumstances could hardly stand further convolution at this point.
Over the next few hours, the weight of that dreaded assignment seemed to grow heavier by the minute. Every time Lena's gaze strayed to the thick sheaf of pages, her stomach twisted itself into fresh knots.
Werewolf fiction...just her luck. As if being an actual shapeshifter condemned to a life of clandestine violence and loneliness wasn't torment enough. Now she'd be forced to don those figurative fur and fangs vicariously through Hawkins' histrionic prose as well.
Lena knew she should feel grateful for the honor of being assigned such a coveted editing project. Caleb's books routinely topped bestseller lists, devouring by a rabid cult following that seemed to multiply with each new release. Any other editor in the office would've leapt at the opportunity.
But then, no one else at Merriam House carried the burdens she did. No one else knew the pain and horror of what it truly meant to transform into a monster every full moon cycle.
Rubbing weary eyes, Lena forced her attention back to the stack of résumés and query letters awaiting her triage. Perhaps burying herself in more conventional editorial duties would be respite enough from the mounting dread hovering over Hawkins' manuscript.
At least until her friend Tori arrived to undoubtedly mock her for—
"Earth to Lena! Helloooo?"
The cheerful voice startled her from her brooding reverie just as predicted. In a swirl of vibrant colors, Tori swept into the room, all swishing skirts and buoyant energy.
"There you are!" she chimed, breezing past Lena's cubicle towards her own neighboring workspace. "I was starting to think you'd nodded off again like that time after..."
Her voice trailed off as mossy green eyes landed on the oversized manuscript dominating Lena's desk space. Tori froze in place, one delicately arched brow arching upwards as she took in the offending bundle of pages.
