Made in Moonlight

Seventeen

The rest of the week is filled with the usual training from sunrise to sunset and, before I know it, there's only a few days until my transformation.

Blake comes and goes from the cabin, dealing with whatever it is Alphas of werewolf packs deal with. I don't know if I prefer him gone or not. The silver string that bursts to life whenever he's close is just an awful reminder that he's not close enough.

I lie on the ground, stretching my limbs out as the sun drifts higher into the sky. Leyla stretches beside me, our shadows lengthening across the grass.

If I close my eyes, I can focus on the smells around me. With the full moon approaching so fast, I can feel my wolf-side coming out more. I can smell farther, better.

Not only can I smell the trees and the grass, but I can smell the kitchen in the cabin, even with the door shut. More than that, I can hear Leyla breathing, the birds flitting from tree to tree, even the wiring in the cabin buzzing in the walls.

"This is awful," I say, covering my ears. "How do you sleep like this?"

"You get used to it," Leyla says, "but you can try to tune it out. It's almost like turning it off and on."

I close my eyes. Right. Tune it out, just like the scents.

I start by focusing on what I can hear—the birds, the rustling of leaves, Leyla's constant breathing.

I groan. "This is impossible."

"Well, it takes more than one try," she points out.

I chuckle. She probably has a point. I close my eyes and try again.

Birds. Leaves. Footsteps.

I blink.

"They're back," Leyla says, hearing the same thing as me.

I turn towards the forest, just as Blake and Thomas' figures appear, and so does the silver string that connects us.

"How was patrol?" Leyla asks as they reach us.

Patrols have increased ever since the tracks were found, though they've only proven useless so far. Nothing is ever found. Most of them have been run by the pack, but nobody knows these forests better than Thomas and Leyla.

Besides, I know how much it means to them to contribute to the pack, if only this much.

Both the men are shirtless, though shorts hang low on their hips. They must have changed back in the woods.

"No new leads," Thomas says, shrugging. "Whoever they were, it's like they've vanished off the face of the planet."

"Or they're waiting for an opportunity," Blake says.

"Opportunity for what?" I ask.

Blake shakes his head. "I don't want to know." He turns towards Thomas and nods once. "You and Leyla are on patrol again tonight."

"Got it," Thomas says, beaming.

"Can I do anything to help?" I ask.

Blake settles his eyes on me. "Train."

And with that, he turns and jogs up the steps to the cabin. I sigh. Back to avoiding me like the plague.

I wish I could help out more, but I know he's right. I look up to the sky. The sun is already starting to fall. Another day is already gone.

Blake is right. I need to train harder.

Even though training is over for the day, I lie back on the grass. A few more sets couldn't hurt.