"You know how sorry I am, right?"

I pause, half-way through a push up to frown at Leyla. "I've told you a million times, Leyla. You have nothing to apologize for. How were you supposed to know my drink was poisoned?"

"I should have paid more attention to the barista. I should have trusted my senses more. I knew I smelled something funny."

"Stop beating yourself up." I fall out of my push-up form and sit, cross-legged across from her. "It's not your fault. You saved me."

She shakes her head, sighing. "How are you feeling now?"

I shrug. With one night left until the full moon, I've been training more than ever before. My entire body is still sore from the wolfsbane, and combined with the non-stop training, I might break before the full moon breaks me.

"I'm fine," I say. "I just want to be ready."

"You need to take it easy," Leyla says, eyeing me.

"Take it easy? The full moon is tomorrow, Leyla. I don't have time to take it easy."

"I know, but your transformation is as much a mental game as it is a physical one," she says. "Besides, what good will it do to burn out before the full moon?"

"I won't burn out," I say simply.

I stretch my arms out and turn back to the grass, starting another set of push-ups.

"Whatever you say," Leyla murmurs, returning to her own stretching.

The day moves too quickly. I go through every exercise Thomas and Leyla have taught me, then go through them again. I don't stop until I physically can't keep going.

I collapse onto the grass, my arms trembling with effort. Groaning, I roll onto my back. Every muscle in my body aches.

I stare at the dark sky, at the stars and the moon—almost full, if not for the tiniest sliver taken out of it.

A sudden sadness washes over me. Tomorrow night might be the first night of my new life, or the last night of it.

My heart sinks at the thought. I haven't done enough. I'm not ready yet. I need to keep training, keep stretching—I need to be prepared.

I push myself to a seated position before leaning forward towards my toes, stretching my hamstrings out. A few days ago, I would have been able to stretch all the way to the ground, but now I can barely reach my knees.

I huff, trying again, but my body is still stiff. Every movement hurts.

This sucks. This really, really sucks. All my hard work, all my effort... It was all for nothing. Because, what? I drank some wolfsbane?

I sit back up, pressing my hands over my eyes. My throat burns and I swallow hard, trying to hold back my tears.

I don't have time to cry. Not when this is my last night before my transformation.

I need to keep training. Even if my body doesn't want to, I have to keep pushing.

With trembling legs, I force myself to stand. My whole body sways as dizziness strikes me, but somehow, I manage to stay upright.

"I think that's enough for today."

I turn to find Blake watching me from the porch steps. He wears a loose, gray t-shirt that hides his muscles, and his hair is messy like he's been running his hands through it.

I've barely seen him all day. He's been too busy walking between the cabin and the tree line, carrying all sorts of things—a huge pile of pillows, metal chains, wooden planks.

I haven't had time to think about the weird array of items. I've had bigger things on my mind.

"Full moon's tomorrow," I say, looking away. "I have to be ready."

He's silent for a moment before his footsteps move off the porch and towards me.

"You are ready, Clover. You've been training for weeks."

I roll my eyes, shaking my head. "That was before I was poisoned. The wolfsbane set me back."

Blake sighs loudly. He moves closer, his voice stern when he says, "You have to rest."

It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes again. "I'll rest after the full moon."

"Don't be stubborn. Go inside and get some rest."

"Or what?" I snap, turning to him with a glare. "You're going to make me?"

"Don't tempt me," he snaps back. He must sense the betrayal on my face because his glare softens a little. "I don't mean that. You're just—you're pushing your body too hard."

"Too hard?" I echo bitterly. "You know what's going to be too hard? Every bone in my body breaking and bending into the shape of a wolf."

Blake rubs a hand over his face, then shoots me an icy look. "You think I don't know that?"

"It doesn't matter what you know," I say. "You're not the one going through it."

"But you are!" he yells back. "Do you think that's any better for me? Watching you go through that?"

I let out a hollow laugh. "Oh, right. That must be so hard for you. Sorry you have to suffer through watching me possibly die—"

"Don't say that!"

"Well, it's true!" I spit. I sigh, looking away. "It's true, Blake. The chances of me surviving this... You have to admit, they're low."

"What are you talking about?"

"You can feel it, can't you? How the wolfsbane affected my body. I'm not as strong as I was a few days ago."

Blake sighs. "You're right. Your body. It's not healing fast enough. The wolfsbane is stopping it."

"I'm never going to heal in time," I say. Blake frowns.

"Clover—"

"I'm going to die, Blake," I whisper. "I can feel it. I'm not going to make it through the full moon."

"How could you say that?" he asks. I glance at him, and he frowns at me with such heartbreak written in his eyes. "If you don't survive..."

His voice catches and he looks away. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. I exhale slowly, shaking my head.

"I'm just being realistic. We can't keep denying it. I might have had a chance before the wolfsbane, but now..."

"Clover, you're the strongest person I know," Blake says.

I scoff. "Right."

"No, seriously," he says. He moves closer. So close, I think he might reach forward and touch me. My breath catches at the thought. "You survived years under your stepmother's cruelty. You lived on the street for months."

He lifts a finger and touches it to the center of my chest, exactly where my scar juts from my skin.

"You survived being stabbed," he adds.

I laugh, shaking my head. "That was mostly thanks to you."

Blake blinks, like a thought has just occurred to him. His hand flattens against my sternum. Almost instantly, the muscles in my legs stop trembling. It's like a weight is lifted from my body.

"Do you remember how you healed after you were stabbed?" he asks.

It's hard to forget.

We barely knew each other at the time. I remember his lips on my throat, my skin burning under his touch.

I swallow drily and nod. "I think I do."

"Should we..." He leans closer. "Have a repeat?"

My mouth is too dry for words. My face feels so hot, I'm probably glowing in the dark. I'm glad Thomas and Leyla are nowhere to be seen.

"I'm all sweaty," I say.

Blake's eyes darken as he leans towards me. He keeps just inches away as his head nears the crook of my neck.

"You smell like you're mine," he growls.

I release a shaky breath. I think I know what he means. When my werewolf senses started kicking in, Blake's scent was the first thing I noticed.

Earthy, and organic, and indescribably him.

"Okay," I squeak.

With my permission, he finally leans into me.

One hand strokes my hair, then presses against the back of my neck, holding me there. His lips press to my jaw, and I shudder.

My mind falls silent. My whole body falls silent. It's like wolfsbane doesn't even exist right now.

It's like nothing exists, other than Blake and me.

He moves lower, his mouth tracing a path across my throat until he finds it—the bite mark.

His teeth graze the scar there and my back arches. I gasp, curving towards him.

"Relax," he murmurs against my skin.

His body is solid against mine and my legs grow weak. His other hand moves from my chest to snake around my waist, holding me up against him.

Above us, the stars twinkle. The moon watches us. Somehow, it feels so much better here than it did in his room. Between our bodies, the string that connects us illuminates our skin in bright, silvery light.

"Relax," Blake repeats. I try to obey, forcing my rigid body to ease up a little.

As if rewarding me for my obedience, his teeth graze my bite mark again and I exhale sharply through my nose. I toss my head back, giving Blake easier access to my neck.

The sounds that come out of my mouth are so embarrassing, but then the feeling of his teeth is replaced by his lips, and I decide I don't care.

"So beautiful," Blake murmurs. His entire face presses against my neck. I can feel his breath as he pants heavily.

I reach up, gripping the back of his shirt. It feels so good, my brain melts into mush.

"Blake," I whisper.

"I should stop," he mutters, yet he leans forward again, pressing a kiss against my skin.

"Don't stop," I say. I search for the words to convince him to stay, but my brain isn't working. I feel like he's cast a spell over me. What are we doing again? Something floats into my mind...something about healing. All I can come up with is: "It's working."

"I—" He pulls away again, until it's just his forehead touching my neck. "Goddess, damn it all. After the full moon, I'm having you all to myself."

His words go in one ear and out the other. My mind is all foggy. It's becoming hard to think clearly. All I can do is make a mewling sound in the back of my throat. I want him closer. I want his teeth on my bite mark again.

At my silence, Blake moves back. I instantly whimper at the loss of his touch. He leans over me, frowning at my face. I blink at him, dazed.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Too much."

I mirror his frown and he sighs loudly.

"Blake?" I speak.

"You're going to bed," he says. "Come on."

I stare blankly at him. All I can think about are his lips and how badly I want them on my skin.

He leans down and, in one swift movement, lifts me into his arms. I gasp, throwing my arms around his neck.

He walks towards the cabin, but my eyes are glued to his face. With the night sky behind him, he looks so pretty to me. That's the best way my mushy brain can describe it.

His straight nose, his high cheekbones, his long lashes. I can't help it. I lift my hand, ignoring all inhibitions as I trace a finger across his jaw.

"What are you doing?" he asks. His lips twitch as he glances at me in bewilderment.

"I want to feel you," I say. My finger moves from his jaw to lips. I outline them, amazed at how thick and luscious they look. "I could die tomorrow. I might not have the chance."

His lips part and he catches my fingertip between his teeth. I gasp, surprised, and he releases my finger.

"I told you not to say that," he says. "You're going to get through it."

I keep my mouth shut, mostly because I don't want to argue, but also because my brain is still trying to reform itself.

Blake carries me into my bedroom. Kicking the door shut behind him, he places me onto the mattress, so gently. He pulls my shoes off and tugs the blanket over me.

When he releases me and steps back, I pout, reaching for him.

"Wait," I say.

He sighs. "Clover, you need to sleep."

"It hurts," I whimper. Without his touch, the ache in my body returns—muscle pain from exercise, but more than that. A bone-deep ache from the wolfsbane.

"I know," he says. He steps closer until his knees press against the edge of the mattress. He takes my outstretched hand and intertwines our fingers. "Sleep."

"Sleep next to me," I say.

He frowns. "You're not thinking straight."

"I am," I say. I shake my head, furrowing my brow. "I'm trying to."

"That's not exactly reassuring," Blake says, starting to pull away. I tighten my grip on his hand.

"Please," I say. "I don't want to be alone. Not tonight."

"Clover—"

"Please?"

His brows draw together. Slowly, he sighs and nods towards me. "Move over."

My heart does a little flutter in my chest, and I slide over, making space beside me. Blake kicks his shoes off and slides into the sheets like it's natural for him.

I press myself into his side, our hands gripped together like a vice, and peer up at him. He stares directly at the ceiling, avoiding my gaze.

"Blake," I say.

"Hmm?"

"I'm scared."

That makes him turn to me. He frowns, searching my eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"I don't want to die," I say. Even with the fog still clearing in my mind, it's hard to escape the fear of the full moon tomorrow.

Blake sighs. He lifts his other hand to smooth my hair back.

"You won't die," he says. "I'll be here for you."

"Promise?"

"Of course."

I offer him a smile, but I can't help the nerves that still haunt me.

"Will you stay with me?" I ask.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Don't leave," I say.

Blake frowns. He leans a little closer. The heat from his body envelopes me. "Why would you think I'd leave you?"

"Because you always do," I say. "Sometimes I wake up and you're not here."

Blake's lips twist unhappily, his brows furrowing. "I don't mean to..." He sighs loudly. "It's just, I didn't want to do anything, not until the full moon, but being around you—it's hard to stop myself. I can feel myself losing control."

"So, lose control," I mutter. I lean towards him, craning my neck until our faces are inches away. "This might be my last night."

Blake blinks down at me, a battle of emotions flashing through his eyes.

In a moment of bravery, I lean up, brushing my lips against his own. I feel him stiffen, as usual, and then relax. His lips part, only for a moment, before he turns onto his back, pulling away.

I frown, rejection flooding me.

"Go to sleep, Clover," he says. "You need to heal."

I swallow my dejection and turn onto my back, our hands still gripped between us. As annoyed as I am with him, I can't bring myself to let him go.

I blink my tears away and close my eyes.

The fog from my mind is starting to clear and I realize he's right. I do need to sleep if I'm going to wake up early for more last-minute training tomorrow.

Just before sleep takes me, Blake's fingers tighten around mine.

"I'm sorry," Blake whispers. "Tomorrow, everything will change."

My chest aches, like he's reached through my ribs to grip my heart, and somehow, I know he's right.