I wake up alone in my own bed.

I almost don't recognize it for a second. I bolt upright, taking in the room in a cold sweat, only for yesterday's events to flood back to me.

Werewolves.

Mate.

Omega.

Right. I sigh, letting my pulse slow for a moment before swinging my legs over the side of the bed and standing.

My legs don't wobble even a little. Curious, I tug on the collar of my t-shirt and glance at the scar. It's less swollen today, going from an angry red to a silver-white scar.

Well, that's progress. I turn and exit my room, finding Leyla, Thomas and Blake standing around the kitchen.

Blake spots me first.

His eyes bounce from my face to my bare collarbones, my bite mark, then my wrists. I smile shyly at him, remembering our awkward night together, but he quickly looks away, busying himself with tidying some dishes.

Strange.

"Good morning," I say through a yawn.

"Morning?" Thomas laughs, his head spinning in my direction. "It's nearly two in the afternoon."

"What?" I sputter. I glance out the window and sure enough, the sun is high in the sky.

"You needed the rest," Leyla says, always sweet. "Do you want some food? We've got brisket with eggs."

"Brisket for breakfast?" As soon as the words leave my mouth, my stomach growls and I realize just how good that sounds.

"It's the wolf in you," Leyla explains, serving me a large portion on a plate. "You'll only get hungrier once it's out."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask. "I'm not actually going to become a wolf, right? You all seem pretty human to me."

Leyla giggles, shaking her head. "No, you'll still be very much human. You'll just have this other side of you as well."

"The wolf-ier side," Thomas adds with a grin.

Leyla ignores him and continues explaining. "When you go through your first transformation, your wolf-side will come out and you'll start to see changes. Like, you'll start to feel hungry more often, because your wolf-side burns more calories. You'll see what I mean in a month."

Wolf-side, huh? I start to think of what other things might change after the full moon. I remember the pack of werewolves that came to the cabin the other day.

"Am I going to get taller?" I ask, grinning, and glance in Blake's direction. He still refuses to look at me. "Blake must be like seven feet tall."

Leyla laughs and sends me a half-shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. Thomas and I are the only human-to-wolf transformations I know, and we stayed the same height."

"I guess we'll find out in a month," I say.

Leyla's smile fades a little. She exchanges a look with the others, then turns back to my plate, piling on some extra meat for me. "Maybe."

I frown, confused by her sudden change, until I catch on to her words. Maybe, meaning if I survive.

I shove the thought from my mind. I've made it this far. I'm sure I can make it through the full moon. I know I will. I've never been the type to give up easily.

"Well, I'm starving," I say, trying to lighten the mood as I take the plate from her. Two hot meals in less than twenty-four hours? It's like paradise to me.

I'm about to scarf the whole thing down when Thomas interrupts me.

"You finish up and get ready for the day," he says. "I'll be outside when you're ready to start training."

He's out the door in seconds, Blake right behind him. I turn, frowning at Leyla.

"What does he mean by training?" I ask.

"Clover, when we said you have to get your strength up, we meant it literally," she says. "Your first transformation forces your bones, your muscles, every part of you to physically stretch and change. If you're not strong enough, well..."

"I'll die," I fill in for her.

She shrugs.

"It almost happened to me," she says. "I wasn't strong enough. My wolf nearly tore me apart from the inside. I'm lucky she's... small. It's a blessing and a curse."

"How can it be a curse? You survived. That's all that matters," I say.

She looks away from me, her gaze going to the window. Outside, Thomas and Blake have shed their shirts and spar in the open field.

"Werewolves are an ancient culture. There's a reason outsiders like Omegas usually aren't welcome," she explains. "It's worse when you're weak. Your wolf is a display of your power. My tiny wolf has nothing to contribute to the pack. Most deer are bigger than I am. Most wolves could kill me in a fight."

I frown, trying to imagine how the pack works. "Does that happen a lot? Wolf fights?"

"In some packs," she says. She turns away from the window to smile at me. "I think Lunam Silvam used to be like that—settling werewolf arguments through a fight. But Blake changed it all when he became Alpha."

She taps the table next to my plate.

"Well, you'd better start eating. Your trainer's waiting for you."

I glance out the window at their sparring again.

The way they fight is almost supernatural in itself. They move so fast, their punches and kicks slicing through the air.

I've never been much of a fighter myself. PE was my most dreaded class in school. If these are my trainers... I'm going to need all the help I can get to make it through this afternoon.

***

By the time my stomach is full and I've freshened up for the day, Blake and Thomas have finished their sparring.

Thomas sits on the grass, basking in the sun, while Blake sits on the porch, typing away at a laptop. His shirt is back on, and I can't help the twinge of disappointment I feel.

I slip out the front door, Leyla behind me. She found me some workout clothes to use—leggings and a sports bra—and braided my hair back. At least I look the part.

"What are you typing away at?" I ask, glancing in Blake's direction.

He doesn't even look in my direction. Something has come over his expression, like a cool mask of indifference. "Alpha stuff. We have to make our money somehow."

I'm taken aback by his sudden chilliness. What happened to that kind Blake from last night? The one whose lips brushed over my neck, whose fingertips massaged my skin.

"Right," I start, trying to sound nonchalant. "So. Where do we begin?"

"With him," Blake replies. "He's the one training you. Not me."

"Why not you?"

Blake releases a loud sigh and finally meets my eye with a glare. "I'm only here so the pack doesn't kill you before the moon does. Got it?"

I blink, taken aback. "Got it."

He nods curtly. With that, Blake stands and goes back into the cabin, slamming the door behind him.

"What's that all about?" I ask, frowning.

"He's an idiot," Leyla says, more or less what I was thinking. "Just give him some time to come around. He's never been good at, you know, the whole feelings thing."

"Men," I murmur to myself, jogging down the steps to meet Thomas in the grass. "Didn't realize I'd have to beg my mate to acknowledge me."

I pause in front of Thomas. When my shadow covers his face, blocking his sun, he frowns, eyes squinting open to glare at me.

"Alright, boss," I say. "I'm all yours."

"Great!" He perks up immediately. "Let's start."

I'm not sure what I expected, but Thomas's exercises are brutal. He starts off slow, taking me through warm ups and simple drills that I did a million times back in high school.

But then he steps it up a notch, pushing me through burpees, push-ups, crunches, and more until I'm a sweaty mess on the ground.

"Alright," Thomas says. He hasn't broken a sweat at all during our workout. He barely looks puffed out. "Come at me."

He spreads his legs and holds his arms up in a defensive stance. I frown.

"Excuse me?"

"Come at me. Attack."

"How is this supposed to help me?"

"You're a werewolf, aren't you?" he asks. "You need to know how to fight. At least to defend yourself. Come on. Besides, the wolf in you will love it. Maybe she'll go easy on you next full moon."

"Seriously?"

He nods simply, hands still raised, and I groan. Leyla sits a few feet away, stretching on the grass. She shoots me a thumbs-up.

"You can do it, Clover!" she exclaims.

I nod, doing my best to copy his stance. I raise my arms and take a deep breath, then catapult forward.

I've never been a fighter, but I have a vague idea of where to aim for. Thomas is huge, definitely bigger and stronger than me. I need to throw him off-balance.

I lock my arms around his neck, distracting him, then hook an ankle behind him. Using my body weight, I tug backwards, trying to take him to the ground.

Except, he's expecting it. He reels back, his leg overpowering mine, and my arms come loose around his neck. Instead, I'm the one falling to the ground.

He towers over me as my back smacks into the grass. I wince, pain shooting through my chest.

"Nice try," Thomas says, grinning. He offers me a hand, which I take. "Smart. Not going for a direct attack but using gravity against me. Good thinking."

"Yeah, well, it didn't work," I say, brushing my clothes off. My chest still aches from the fall, and I wince a little with each movement.

"Because you're still weak. Your grip, your pull—"

He cuts himself short, a change coming over his face. He pauses, then snarls.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Blake's telling him off," Leyla replies, giggling. She taps at her forehead. "In here."

As if on cue, the door to the cabin bursts open and Blake stomps out.

"I told you she's fine!" Thomas yells, waving at me.

"Her chest is injured," Blake responds. "She was stabbed three days ago, Tom! You couldn't take it easy for the first session?"

"We have less than four weeks to get her ready for transformation. We don't have time to take it easy! You don't get it because you were born a werewolf."

Blake steps up to him, his face close as he snarls, "You're done for today."

"Fine!"

I watch as Thomas marches off, swiftly shifting into his wolf form and bounding off towards the forest.

"I really am fine," I say, filling the silence.

Blake's deathly glare shoots in my direction and my mouth snaps shut. He turns, his eyes settling on Leyla who sits on the grass, still stretching except now with a smirk on her face.

"Take her through cool down," Blake snaps.

"Why don't you do it yourself?" I argue. The way he keeps bossing people around is really starting to get on my nerves.

His eyes meet mine again, but this time I refuse to back down. I puff out my chest, daring him to say something. His eyes flicker down to my neck, then back to my eyes.

After a long pause, he says, "I can't."

The fight has gone out of his voice, but they still cut deep.

"Why not?" I snap. "You're my mate, aren't you?"

Something in that word—mate—makes a muscle in his jaw twitch. He breaks eye contact and starts to back away towards the cabin.

"Get through the full moon," he says simply, "and then we'll see if you're really my mate or not."

Anger stabs through my chest. How dare he?

"If you don't want to be my mate, then no one's stopping you!" I practically shout. "What, you want me to prove myself? I didn't ask to be your mate—to be a werewolf."

"I know you didn't!" he shouts back. "I know you didn't! I didn't mean to—I shouldn't have—"

He shakes his head, the words dying on his tongue. He takes another step back, but I follow, stepping forward and shoving his chest.

He winces at my touch, and I know it's not from my strength.

"What?" I yell. "Speak to me! You keep running off and leaving me alone! You're my mate, Blake! You're the one who bit me! Why do you keep running away like this?"

I'm fuming by the end of my little rant, my breathing coming out in hot bursts. I want him to look at me. To yell at me.

Prove me wrong.

He doesn't.

"I know I bit you," he says quietly. There's something in his eyes for a flash—sadness, or shame—but it's gone just as quickly. He returns to his usual icy demeanor as he shakes his head, pressing a hand to his brow like this little argument has given him a migraine. "I know I did."

Neither of us has anything more to say.

He simply trails back to the porch and takes his seat. Slowly, he crosses his legs. I want to rip them off of him. My stomach roils with anger. I wish Thomas was still here so we could spar again.

Blake doesn't look at me when he lifts a hand and Leyla stands, walking towards me.

"Carry on," he says, dismissing me.

A growl escapes my lips. A literal growl. It's so shocking, that all my anger melts away and I blink.

"Did I just...?"

Leyla giggles. "Sounds like you're about ready to train."