Sadie’s POV
I didn't sleep.
I sat on the kitchen floor until my back went numb, then I moved to the couch, then I stood at the window, then I paced the length of the cottage like a caged animal until the sun came up and painted the walls in pale grey light.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it. His forearm. The fur spreading like a disease. The bones shifting beneath the skin with that wet, organic sound that I could still hear inside my skull like an echo that wouldn't fade. The nails – not nails, claws – curving out of his fingertips like something being born.
And his face. Through all of it, his face had been calm. Practiced. As if turning part of his body into something inhuman was as routine for him as rolling up a sleeve.
Which, apparently, it was.
I pressed my fists against
