Clayton places the bottle to my lips and helps me drink.

"I know you don't feel well," he says. "But the sooner you call your wolf, the sooner you'll heal."

The last gulp of water goes into my windpipe and I cough.

"You know I can't. That's why this all happened in the first place," I say after I've cleared my throat.

Putting the bottle on the floor, Clayton switches his attention to the first aid kit. He opens an antiseptic pad and begins to softly wipe my face of the blood.

"Right. But unless you can transform for even a moment, I will need to take you to the emergency room and not only will we be forced to explain this injury, but you'll also have these scars until the next full moon," he says in a measured tone that leaves no doubt in mind about how bad the cuts across my cheek really are.

He throws the bloody pad on the ground and opens a fresh one. Leaning even closer than before, he continues to clean my wounds.

In spite of the pain, I could bear his pampering for hours, but I don't want to see Gemma's claw marks on my face every time I look in a mirror for the next three weeks.

"Just a moment would be enough?" I ask, realizing that this is another aspect of being a werewolf that I fully don't know about.

Clayton's hand stops and he nods. "Yes. Although everything would take longer, it would definitely kickstart the healing process."

"Okay," I say. "Tell me what to do."

"The most important thing to remember is to relax and let yourself go," Clayton says, picking up a handful of surgical tape strips. "Your wolf wants to come out. You have to allow it to."

"Easier said than done," I mumble before closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. That was always one of the first steps in my yoga class, so it's my go-to relaxation technique.

But Clayton doesn't seem to agree.

"Keep your eyes open," he says, gently grabbing my chin and turning my head to fully face him. "Look at me and only me. Think of nothing else except for what is happening within this two foot radius around you. Lock out every other thought and sound. Nothing exists outside of us."

A chill runs through my body and I'm not sure if it's from his words or a fever. Honestly, it could be both. But I need to follow Clayton's instructions and leave that question for later.

Instead, I silently watch as he thoughtfully applies each sticky strip to pull closed the split skin. His cool fingers occasionally graze my hot cheek as he works while his face is just inches from mine. I can feel his breath and could probably count every one of his eyelashes. I soon hear nothing but my own heartbeat and Clayton's breathing, which seem to sound in unison.

Occasionally, Clayton's eyes meet mine and he whispers one word, "Turn."

Every time, I respond with a small nod and concentrate even harder on releasing my wolf. But every time, I fail. The man in front of me is too fascinating and I just can't let go.

"You seem to be really good at this. Have you had to do it before?" I ask, knowing that the question is cliché, but craving the interaction.

Clayton doesn't look up and continues with patching me up. "Putting inexperienced wolves together when they couldn't fulfill their birthright? Thankfully not."

Touché. But I'm now also more curious. "So these ceremonies usually go smoother?"

"Yes."

Well, that didn't clear much up except reinforce why he was so angry with Gemma's wolf after its backlash. Which reminds me . . ..

"Why is Gemma Calhoun in your pack if your father is Alpha of Black River?" I ask.

Clayton's hand stops mid-application of a strip. Only his eyes move to meet mine.

"She is my Luna and we are to be married, moving her future allegiance to Allegheny," he says in a way that strongly implies that he is done with this line of questioning.

To make himself extra clear, he voluntarily changes the topic as he resumes working. "But if you must know, I have done this sort of thing in a different context."

"Oh yeah?" I ask, satisfied that I've gotten even this much out of him, I'm happy to move onto something less contentious. "What context was that?"

"I was originally pre-med. I was studying to be a medical doctor before changing my focus to research rather than practice with molecular biology," he says, leaning back and admiring his handywork. "That's one done."

I want to know more about the reason for the change and what he's studying now, but before I can, Clayton stands, pulls me to my feet and cups my face in his hands.

"What are you doing?" I ask, reeling both from the sudden movement and the unexpected pose I've found myself in. The last time I was held like a man like this was more than a year ago and that guy had nothing on Clayton Ward.

"You'll never be able to call your wolf with all of this noise," he says, tapping my temple with his finger. "You need to stop overthinking, but that won't happen if you keep asking me all of these questions."

I nod and we stare into each other's eyes.

He has beautiful eyes. There's a warm glow in the deep brown again, just like when we first met and the reminder of that day stirs something primal within me.

I can smell the mud of the forest. I can hear twigs breaking under a rabbit's foot. The wind blows cold on my skin.

Clayton slowly pulls me closer, his muscular chest pressing against my body.

"Turn," he whispers.

Fog begins filling the room and clouds roll over the ceiling. Trees in the corners sway and drop their leaves.

Clayton is so close that his nose grazes mine and I instinctively tilt my head as my gaze drops to his lips. They're nearly touching mine and I can imagine how they would feel against my own. When Clayton wets his top lip with the tip of his tongue, my vision goes black and I let out a guttural roar.

Clayton jumps back as though he'd been burned by fire.

"You did it!" he exclaims. "It was only for a split second, but you manifested your wolf."

Willing to trade my success for a longer time back in his arms, I'm almost disappointed. "I . . . I did?" I ask even as I feel better already.

He nods and urges me to sit again. "You most certainly did. Just like I told you that you could. Now let me cover up the second cut to keep it in check for the next few hours and then we can get you home."