Made in Moonlight

Twenty

The morning of my full moon, I wake to find Blake still asleep beside me.

It takes a few minutes to remember last night and realize that it wasn't a dream. It all really happened. I sit up, watching him, tracing my eyes over the smooth skin of his face and down his body.

His arm is splayed over the sheets, his hand palm-side up. There, in the middle, the welt has vanished, replaced with a silvery scar.

I guess I'm not the only one who was healed last night.

The burning inside my body is gone, replaced with a dull ache. Soreness. Maybe I need another healing session.

My eyes move back to Blake's face—his lips. His lips that pressed against my neck.

Lips that almost kissed me last night.

I blush and turn, forcing myself out of bed.

Even standing, all the muscles in my body protest the movement. I pant heavily, grabbing the wall to steady myself as I find my footing.

"Are you okay?" Blake asks, his voice croaky and low.

I glance over my shoulder to find him sitting up in bed. His shirt has ridden up, revealing a sliver of skin, and he rubs his eye, yawning as he watches me. I warm, looking away.

I could get used to waking up beside him.

Assuming I don't die tonight.

"Fine," I say, taking a step forward. "Better than fine."

Blake says nothing but I can feel his eyes on me as I stagger out of the bedroom.

By the time I finish in the bathroom and get dressed for the day, my body aches even more. I step out into the kitchen to find all three of my roommates, sitting in grim silence.

"Morning," I murmur.

"Clover!" Leyla chirps. "Want some breakfast?"

"Sure," I say, taking a seat as Leyla starts flittering around the kitchen.

"You're in pain," Blake remarks, eyeing me. He's brushed his hair and changed his clothes since we woke up.

"What gave that away?"

"I can feel it," he says. He stands, pulling something out of the fridge and dropping it on the table in front of me. "Drink."

I look at the small bottle filled with cloudy water. Unscrewing the lid, I get a familiar whiff of honey and herbs.

"Is this that antidote again?" I ask.

Blake nods and I down the bottle in one go. Instantly, the pain in my body eases a little. I slam the empty bottle on the table and gasp.

"This stuff works miracles. Do you have any more?"

He shakes his head. "It's hard to brew, especially at such short notice. I'll pick more up this afternoon."

This afternoon. Just before my transformation. I nod grimly.

Leyla returns and places an enormous platter of food in front of me. I stare at her, my jaw slack.

"This is all for me?" I ask.

"Yep!" she says, smiling. "It's a big day today. You'll need the energy."

"This could feed a village," I mutter, though my stomach growls with approval. Well, if the wolf wants it. I pick up my fork and prod at the food.

It should be appetizing, but anxiety twists in my stomach. A wave of nausea rolls through me, and I have to force myself to start eating.