Noah POV

Back at the hotel, I lie in bed with moonlight pouring through the window, the full moon's silver glow washing over my skin and setting every nerve ending on fire with a primal hunger that I can't ignore, can't suppress, can't rationalize away no matter how hard I try.

The full moon does this to all werewolves—amplifies our instincts, strips away the civilized veneer we wear in daylight, leaves us raw and wanting and desperate for the things our ...