The moon hadn’t changed.
It still rose pale and full, still spilled silver across the forests like an open throat, still bathed Blackfang in that eerie glow that turned everything beautiful and brutal at once.
But something inside Jasmine had changed.
She felt it first in her skin.
It started with heat... subtle, creeping. A flush over her collarbones when she dipped into the basin that morning. Then deeper, a bloom between her thighs that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with ache.
By midday, the ache had turned to tension.
And by evening, tension to tremble.
She stood at the edge of the Blackfang compound’s overlook, bare feet sinking into moss, her robe falling open just enough to catch the wind, letting it kiss the fever off her chest. Her eyes searched the hor
