Kaerith’s hand stilled on her arm as her breath hitched, a wave of nausea rolling through her as the memories flooded back again— the monstrous form, the agonizing pain, the feeling of being torn apart even when bleeding…even when at death’s bed.
“But you…” Velcira’s gaze intensified. “You endured. Multiple… rounds. Your screams echoed through the sanctum, and yet, you clung to life.”
She paused, her eyes scanning Kaerith as if she were some strange specimen.
“The other girls… they undergo the full moon rites. It strengthens them, prepares them. You had none of those rites. And yet, you survived. It’s… unprecedented.”
Kaerith’s fingers curled into the rough blanket, her knuckles turned white. She opened her mouth, but no words came.
What could she say? How could she explain the horror
