Gaven
The moon is already climbing.
I feel it long before I see it. The familiar pressure in my blood, the tightening in my chest, the restless ache that has nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with instinct. I bolt my bedroom door and draw the curtains tight, sealing myself in the way I've learned to do over the years.
Alone. That's how I've survived the full moon for a long time, and I see no reason to change how I do things now.
I stopped bringing women to my room long ago. I found that while they said they understood what no strings attached meant. They didn't actually mean it. After the moon cycle ended, they would make their way to my door, night after night, begging to be let in. When I rejected them, it made things messy for several weeks after the fact, an
