Chapter One

Isaiah Johnson laid back on his bed in the corner of his large one room cabin. It was shortly before midnight and he was restless. He had gotten familiar with these long lonely nights over the past one hundred years, but he refused to get use to them. It had been at least that long since he had laid with his last mate. But telling a human female about his heritage, his breed, in this day and age could be deadly to him. He had heard of the witch trials that were going on in Salem and didn't want to end up like them. So, announcing that you were a lycan, even to a woman, was not the best thing to do.

Last night had been the last night of the full moon. A new cycle was now underway. Isaiah had fed heartly on the bounty of deer in the woods and had brought some home to eat cook over the fire. His body always felt renewed after a full moon.

Isaiah didn't know just when he had fell asleep, but his eyes were now being bombarded with sunlight. Stretching, he rose to get the day started. By noon, he had made several repairs to the cabin that he had put off all summer. With winter now so close, he knew that he couldn't put off any of his chores any longer. Next, Isaiah headed out to chop wood. When finished, the muscles of his tall, lean body ached. His shoulder length black hair began to curl at the ends due to the sweat now rolling off of him. His green eyes sparkled in the sun. Heading back to his cabin he caught a new scent on the wind. It was human... and female. As he approached, a movement by his cabin caught his attention.

Isaiah's lycan instinct's kicked in and he watched the movement closely. His ears strained to hear the light move of whatever it was. Seeing the form slipping behind his cabin, he quitely headed around it to meet whoever it was. On the back side, he watched as the small shadow of a woman came into view on the ground. She obviously was unaware to his presence there. Her back came into view as she back around the corner. Her long, stringy brown hair hung down nearly to her waist. She was barefooted and her clothes were little more than rags. Isaiah knew that she would scream when he touched her, so he raised his hands in preperation to put them to her mouth. Her scream was indeed muffled by his large hands.

"Calm down. Calm down," Isaiah said as softly as he could in his gruff voice. "I'm not going to hurt you. Are you hunger?" He could feel her trimbling in his arms. Slowly, she shook her head "yes". "Come on in," he said as he released her, "I was just getting ready to start supper."

Isaiah smiled as the small framed female watched him intently. She couldn't be more than twenty. Her large blue eyes showed fear, hurt, and so many more emotions. She had combed her hair out with the brush he gave her. It now look silky and longer. Under her tattered dress, her breasts looked to be about the size of grapefruits. She was pale; ghostly pale. He could easily tell that she hadn't ate a decent meal in some time. Nor had she had a bath in a while because her face was filthy. After eating two plate fulls, she finally spoke. "Thank you," she said in a weak and trembling voice. She spoke not another word the rest of the night.

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It's only funny until someone gets hurt, then it's hilarious!