The Cure

"Let's do it." Mr. Wilson had just agreed to take the cure... Michelle's blood. It was our only hope to save the werewolves that were turned against their will, as well as the people of the tribe and the town. 

"We need a knife and a bowl," I said.

Raina nodded. "On it!" Then she ran upstairs.

Then I turned to Michelle. "I'm so sorry about this. In the future, we can get some syringes. But for now, this is the only way."

"No, I'd rather do it this way." Michelle shook her head. "Besides, this is what I agreed to. A cut, I can handle, as long as he doesn't have to bite me. Even though my blood is the cure for werewolves, I'm sure it won't cure a shifter from a werewolf bite."

I nodded, smiling. Michelle had come a long way from being the girlie girl that she had always been. A year ago, if someone would have told me that Michelle would have willingly let anyone cut her, I would have laughed.