Just A Little ~ Hot Stories 4 Hot Girls

Jade's Curse

© Joanna Bock Copyright 2012-13 All Rights Reserved

Jade had seen more than her fair share of Christmases, and with it more New Year’s Eve’s than she cared to remember.

Each one she is mate-less and alone.

She sat high above the city watching as the masses of the unknowing celebrate yet another year passing. A tear sliding down her cheek. Jade closed her eyes and pictured her mate holding her in his arms__ watching over the humans with her.

“Happy new year my darling,” He would purr into her ear. She would melt against him as her body would give its self to his. Jade opened her eyes not wanting to picture the kiss she imagined would follow next.

The moon was waxing now. Only another week until she could let her ambitions’ free of the restraints of her human confines.

It went hand in hand with New Years Eve__ the anxiety, the need to run.

Jade had seen New Years Eve 153 times. She remembered folk dancing around bonfires while they drank mead from tin and wooden cups and entertainers played pipes and crude attempts at fiddles, as they celebrated in the town square. Grand balls where men wore top hats and women wore gowns and gloves smiling when a gentleman greeted them, then giggling and blushing among the ladies. Cocktail parties in grand ballrooms, while ladies in swanky knee length dress, sporting bob cuts for hair do’s, smoked cigarette’s though long smoking filters; they laughed and flirted with men in pinstriped suits smoking Cigars and drinking brandy.

The principle never changed even now; when people wore what they pleased Jeans dresses suits, barely anything at all. The bonfires and folk songs, discarded for techno and neon lights.

New York at New Years was something she had never believed possible. The lights, the music, the people. It had all changed; everything except the principle__ and her.

Jade watched as a couple stood in the street, so in love as they kissed like no one else was there.

“I want that,” Jade growled.

She stood and turned to leave, jumping from roof tops until she landed in a small dark alley. She moved though the shadows looking for someone to fill the void. She knew there was no-one truly just for her.

Jade was the last of her kind.

Her mother had hidden her in an underground craven, told her to be silent and to sleep the deep sleep of the winter. She had. But not before she watched. The cracks in the stone had given her a sliver of a view; forever imprinting her with the nightmare. Jade hardly remembered now, what it was like to have a pack. But she would never forget that night.

It was early July in the southern lands. The first snow coloured the earth. And the air caused your breath to mist, like your soul escaping into the night.

She had watched in horror, absolutely silent as her mother had ordered her, a mothers command was binding, which Jade considered a part of her curse. If it wasn’t maybe they could have taken her too.

Hunters in long cloaks with long hoods, like the grim reaper it’s self had come in their dozens. They welded fire and chains.

They circled them, caging her pack in. none of that was her nightmare though.

It was the bone chilling cries of agony that came from her loved one’s as they perished; the result of the hunters chaining them with the chains of silver. Then leaving them to burn. The silver dissolved into their skin like acid. It was a smell forever etched into Jade’s memories.