The Wolfless Luna
If the Goddess heard you.
If your heart was true.
She closed her eyes and whispered.
“I curse this day,” she said, voice steady, bitter. “Zara. Ethan. You broke me. You used me. Seven years of my life—I gave them, and you spit on it.”
Her fingers tightened around the dirt.
“May the child in her womb stay inside her for seven years. And when it is born, may it be cursed. May it never find love.”
The words cut her mouth like glass, but she said them anyway.