When I woke, it wasn’t to the usual dread that had followed me since the night in the woods.
It was something else.
A dull ache curled low in my stomach, sharp enough to make me fold in on myself, one arm clutching my middle. My breath hissed between my teeth, and for one wild second I thought—what now? Another wound I didn’t remember getting? Some after-effect of the bats’ claws, their poison, their curse?
But then the warmth spread, slow and unmistakable, damp against my thighs.
My heart sank.
Oh no.
Not here. Not now.
I shoved back the blanket with trembling fingers, panic rising like bile in my throat. And there it was—red blooming against the pale sheets, dark and cruel, staining what wasn’t mine to stain.
Heat rushed to my face so hard it burned. I pressed both hands over my
