I loved her so much. She was my white picket fence, my perfect girl. I hurt her when I left her, and I wanted so much to make things right. She was supposed to be my redemption. If I could have made it work again, it wouldn't have mattered that I was a monster. But I was lying to myself. I am the wolf, and that's the only thing that matters.
And now she's dead, and it's all my fault. I was too afraid to tell her the truth, to tell her what I am, and so she ran after me during the eclipse, and she died. She died because of the wolf, and I was delusional to think that it could have ended any other way.
And so suddenly pursuing Nora's cure has become a realistic possibility. When she first told me, I didn't want anything to do with it- nothing was worth murdering a man, not just on the off chance of saving myself. But that doesn't matter anymore. I'm a killer anyway. I might as well protect other people from Ray, and from myself. At this point, killing him is practically community service.
I don't know if I'll be able to do it, and if I do, I'll hate myself afterwards. But I already hate myself, and since I'm already a killer, it's not like I have anything else to lose.