The curtains had been drawn tightly since morning, sealing the space in muted, airless quiet. A faint scent of medicinal herbs lingered beneath the sharper metallic trace of dried blood.
The pain came in unpredictable waves.
One moment her body felt almost normal, breath steady enough to push through it. The next, something beneath her skin shifted wrong—cold spreading through her veins, her heartbeat stuttering unnaturally before correcting itself again.
Maya inhaled slowly through her nose, trying to steady herself.
This was not how it was supposed to happen.
The ritual had worked. It had to. She had followed every step exactly as the hidden chamber demanded.
And yet hours later her body still felt unsettled, as though fate itself had failed to settle properly around her.
Her fingers curled tighter against the fabric of her shirt as another sharp pulse struck low in her abdomen. A soft hiss escaped her lips.
Memories surfaced unwillingly.
