When Violet regained consciousness, it was morning and she was in her bed, naked under the covers and covered in dirt. She wondered how long she could lie there and pretend to sleep before they got suspicious. Maybe nobody would even come looking for her. They might be so disgusted that they would never want to see her again. She had attacked Blake. It was different from the first time after she had been affected by the potion. This had been pre-meditated, intentional. Violet didn't care who got hurt. They should not call this a love potion, because none of this had anything to do with love. It was an obsession, and it was dangerous.
She tried to bury her head under her pillow. What sort of a person was she, to be capable of something like that? She could not blame lycanthropy. She couldn
