"Full moon tonight," said Jern grimly, fastening his gauntlet.
“I know," Alvin replied, eyes fixed on the horizon beyond the fortress walls.
“Should we reinforce her chains?"
“She's not shifting. Not fully."
“She *tries*, though."
Alvin said nothing.
“She screamed last moon. Remember?"
“I remember."
He dismissed Jern with a glance and descended into the dungeon alone, lantern flickering in his hand.
**
Inside the cell, she was on her knees, drenched in sweat. Silver cuffs clanked with each tremor as her body strained and twisted.
Her bones cracked—half-shifted. Claws started to form, then dissolved into bloodied fingertips.
Alvin stepped closer.
She looked up, panting. Eyes glowing faint gold.
“You should leave," she rasped.
“You'll tear yourself apart."
“I've done worse."
