Made in Moonlight

Ten

I spend the rest of the week focusing all my energy on training.

Leyla has devised some daily meditation plan to sort out my newfound wolf senses, but even then, it's tough.

When I was told about the full moon, I expected it to be tough physically, but I didn't expect the mental strength required.

I figure, if I could live with Bianca and her awful daughters, I can do anything. Even transform into a wolf. Hopefully.

My phone plays a jingle, signaling the end of my timer. I'd borrowed a charger from Leyla, figuring I could at least use it for alarms and timers.

"One minute's up," Thomas announces, tapping my phone timer off.

Both Leyla and I drop out of our plank and onto the grass, panting for air.

"How many more planks are you going to force me to do?" I ask between breaths.

Leyla only giggles. "It's fun."

It takes everything in me not to shoot her a glare. As much as I love her sunny personality, the ache in my muscles and sweat on my forehead are putting me into a bad mood.

"We can take a break," Thomas says to my relief. He stands and stretches like a cat in the sun. "Is it just me, or is it warm today?"

He catches Leyla's eye, and she scrambles to her feet. "Oh, yes. Should we...get some lemonade?"

"Excellent idea." Thomas beams and heads for the cabin, passing Blake who sits on the porch steps along the way. "Enjoy your alone time, you two."

"I could go for some lemonade," I interject.

"We'll bring it out for you," Leyla says, winking as she follows Thomas into the cabin.

I lift a brow at their retreating backs. "You're not subtle at all."

They don't answer, only kicking the cabin door shut behind them. I watch them in the window as they giggle together, ambling into the kitchen.

I sigh, grabbing my phone and standing to stretch my arms up towards the sky. My muscles tremble with strain and I roll my shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension in my body.

My eyes land on Blake who watches me from his seat. His hair is still wet from his morning shower, bringing out slight waves that fall over his forehead.

A baggy t-shirt covers his biceps—almost. I can see the shape of his arms bulge out from under his sleeves with each movement.

That silver string between us is there, as always. Over the past week, I've taken the time to marvel over it.

It's funny. Knowing that werewolves and mates exist, somehow this string is the most unbelievable thing about it all.

It shimmers with each movement and fades in the sun's rays, like an illusion or a trick of the light. It's a shame others can't see it, because the way it shines is mesmerizing.

Without thinking, I move towards Blake.

"You don't have to stay here," he says as I take a seat beside him. "You can go inside if you want."

His words surprise me. My immediate reaction is rejection—he doesn't want me here—but I look at him and the rejection fades.

He doesn't meet my eye, even as our knees knock, and he doesn't move away. Somehow, I know he wants me here, as much as I want him here.

There's something innate about it all. Being mates. Like all my life has been leading up to this point, up to meeting him.

If I had to be stabbed all over again, I'd do it, just to be saved by him.