Chapter 47. The Moon Remembers

She hadn’t bitten her lip. Hadn’t fallen. No open wounds. Yet her mouth was filled with that copper sting. Her tongue probed and hit something sharp—too sharp.

She stepped away from the center of the clearing and dropped to her knees beside a patch of moss that had gathered dew. She leaned over the slick green and stared at her reflection in the wet surface.

Her face stared back—mostly.

But her teeth…

The canines had lengthened, unmistakably. Not just sharp, but purposeful. Not human.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. She gritted her jaw, hoping it was an illusion, a trick of the light, some lingering echo of hallucination. She spat into the moss, and the spit came pink. Her tongue was nicked along one edge.

She had bitten herself, sometime during the encounter.

Or maybe—

Maybe the change had happened while she wasn’t aware of herself at all.

She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, hard, until her skin stung. The motion grounded her.