Made in Moonlight

Twenty-One

I scream.

I can't stop screaming. Even when my throat is raw, I scream and scream and scream.

"More ice!" Blake snaps.

A cold rag drags over my face, and I lean over, emptying my stomach into the bucket once more. Blake pulls my hair back, whispering into my ear the whole time.

"It's nearly over."

I don't know if he's right. I have no idea how much time has passed. It feels like months. Years. And yet, the full moon still hangs in the sky, torturing me.

Blake pulls me back against him when I'm done. My body's gone limp. When I try to move, my body only trembles in response. Ice covers my legs, but it's not enough. I'm burning up.

"Stay with me," Blake mutters, holding me tight to his chest.

His teeth scrape against my bite mark again, a desperate attempt to relieve my pain, but it doesn't work. Not when everything feels out of shape. Wrong.

His touch does nothing to help me now.

My heart sinks like lead as I lean against Blake. He combs his hand over my hair, whispering comforts into my ear, but I can't hear him over my own screams and sobs.

Somehow, I know this isn't right.

This shouldn't feel like this. Something is wrong.

I pant heavily, clenching my teeth to suppress my screams. Beside me, Leyla throws more ice onto the bed, while Thomas cowers against the wall, his eyes wide and full of concern.

I wonder how I look to him. Even Leyla, who has seen Thomas' transformation on his full moon, stares at me in disbelief. She moves quickly, but her actions are unsure. She doesn't know what to do.

The realization hits me. I lean closer to Blake. My throat is rubbed raw from screaming, so my voice, when I speak, is rough and low.

"I'm dying," I grit out.

At first, I think Blake doesn't hear me, but then his grip around me tightens.

"Don't say that," he growls.

"I'm going to die, Blake," I say. I try to crane my neck. I want to see his face one last time. It takes everything in me to tilt my head.

"Shut up!" he snaps. "You have to keep fighting. It's nearly over."

My body spasms again and he holds me tighter. His hand moves over my cheek, wiping tears from my face.

His blue eyes stay focused on my face. I've never seen him like this. The Blake I'm used to is emotionless. Unaffected. But this Blake... I don't miss the way his eyes well with tears. The scrunch of worry between his brows. The beads of sweat on his forehead.

I hate that he's worrying about me. I wish I could take it away.

I imagine Blake tomorrow morning, when the sun rises and I'm no longer with them. Will he cry then?

I should have never gone into the diner that night. I should have never spoken with Blake or run into the forest. He should never have followed me.

What I regret most is never kissing those pursed lips of his. I should have held his hand more, hugged him, slept beside him. I should have just treasured my time with him more—my mate.

The silver string between us flickers and Blake's eyes grow wide with it.

"What does that mean?" he spits, his gaze leaving me for a moment.

I don't know what the others say. Pain rips through my body, but at this stage, I'm practically numb to it.

All I can do is tremble in Blake's arms.