"Don't be afraid," one of them murmured, his voice strangely gentle despite the chaos surrounding her.
Maya's thoughts had become a tangled haze. The strange fever coursing through her veins drowned out reason, making it impossible to distinguish instinct from reality. Faces blurred together before her eyes, their voices overlapping until they became little more than whispers carried on the night air.
What's happening to me...?
The question echoed through her mind, yet no answer came.
She felt as though she were standing inside a dream—one from which she couldn't wake. Every attempt to gather her thoughts slipped away beneath the overwhelming pull of the full moon and the lingering effects of the ritual that had changed her fate.
Trembling, she reached for the fastening of her dress, scarcely aware of what she was doing.
One of the men gently caught her hands before they could wander further.
"Easy," he murmured, voice low and warm against her skin.
