A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Lycan

It’s been a bad week for me, I feel as though I’ve had my quota of bad luck and ugliness that the universe has decided to throw all my way. I try to shrug off the memory that’s been plaguing me all week, as I hear the crunch of a footstep on loose dirt and compact gravel. But when someone’s ingrained into your soul, its hard to let go of all that emotion.

Looking over my shoulder to see Addison Harrington, striding my way. I actually begin to smile a little. Addison’s my associate from the Manhattan Maen pack. There’s only one reason he’d be out here in the back of the Bronx. He trains at this gym so he can spar with some decent fighters. I’ve sparred with him at the gym before, from time to time, but I missed him in there today. There’s nothing better I tend to find then beating the shit out of a boxing bag to exhaust you of all your empty, angry, emotions.

“Hey man,” I greet him and turn back to my car, putting my car key into the door. “I missed you in there today.” It’s when Addison doesn’t respond that I start to turn around and look back at him. Addison isn’t the type to be deliberately rude to me. But as I look at him now, I notice something very off about him.

I can feel the pressure build up in the air. His hands are fisting, still in their boxing wraps. I drag my eyes up his form. He’s a muscular, athletic build, not too big, not skinny. Fucking perfectly proportioned. The kind of body perfection, men strive for that is depicted in those male health magazines. Me, I’m big. Thick neck, big muscles, I try to keep myself well proportioned and not work to hard on just one area. But I’m in no way perfect like Addison.

My line of sight lands on his face, he’s clenching his jaw so damn tight, the definition on his jaw line alone could cut you. Veins are pulsing under his skin, I’m trying to figure out what is wrong when I see his eyes and get it. They’ve shifted to animal’s eyes, werewolf eyes. Oh fuck. He has murderous intent in his eyes which are as angry as the deepest rage can be. It’s been a bad week and by the look of it, only getting worse. There’s a storm coming. And it’s all male anger. I have a split second, or at least it feels that way, to recognize that it’s directed at me as Addison’s arms start to pull back, tightening up as he gathers himself together.

– Excerpt from Lycan by Breukelen Girl

XO