“The moon will make you, not me. There’s no wolfsbane in this house; I’ll ensure you don’t have access to any before the full moon the night after tomorrow.”
Her pupils were dilated, her tone rough like she was suppressing a growl deep in her chest.
“You’re my omega,” she reminded me.
My chest was tight with frustration.
“You’re risking my life,” I told her.
Suddenly, she pulled me closer still until our chests brushed with each shared breath.
“I don’t gamble with what’s mine,” she said, and it hung in the small, small space between us. She echoed Ashford’s words, but his were thin, performative, and manipulative. Cole’s were firm, heavy, and said with finality.
“I want to go to bed,” I said, unable to bear the weight.
She released me, and I climbed the stairs to my room, my chest tight and my heart pounding.
Chapter seven
How is Your Control?
“What are you going to wear?”
I jumped at Cole’s question and turned to face her. She stood at the open bedroom door.
“You gave me a fright,” I told her.
“You scare easily,” she countered with a hint of a grin, like she had scared me on purpose.
I didn’t want to speak with her. I was exhausted. I hadn’t been able to sleep at all the previous night. Anxiety scratched at the inside of my chest, haunting my dreams. Dreams of chase, of burning, of red, under a full moon and the wooziness of blood loss. Until I’m falling into darkness and jolting awake into darkness.
“You could knock,” I said.
“The door was open,” she replied.
I turned away from her and back to my choices. Chloe had silently filled my closet with clothes. She included a number of cocktail dresses, which made me wonder what sort of events shethought I might be attending until I brought myself back to the task at hand. Heaven’s Bar was not a cocktail dress location.
Cole cleared her throat.
The weather was cold, a little wet; it had been raining earlier in the day. Heaven’s Bar was casual, but I didn’t want to wear jeans and a tee; if I had to go to a full moon party, at least I got to dress myself. I didn’t want to stand out, but I did want to feel confident.
Another throat clear, this time with clear irritation.
I decided on a pair of dark brown flares and a white halter top.
“Harriet,” Cole said.
I would borrow Cole’s leather bomber jacket. It would complete the outfit, along with the white sneakers.
Cole knocked on the doorframe. I stopped folding the halter top.
“Why are you ignoring me?” Cole asked.
“Why do you think?” I answered.
She growled, and when I turned to look at her, I was frozen by her glare.
“It’s not healthy to go so long without shifting,” she told me, starting the argument again.
