The moon pulled her. Lyra had lasted until midnight, barely, her body still trembling from Soren's calculated destruction, her wrists bearing the marks of leather restraints, her mind fragmented with pleasure.
But the full moon rose, fat and silver above the mountain, and something ancient in her blood responded with violent urgency.
She needed movement and Space. The open air and the wild.
The sanctuary's emergency exit was iron, reinforced, biometrically sealed. Lyra's heat-fevered mind didn't process this as obstacle.
She pressed her palm to the scanner, her biometrics still in the system from her arrival, never revoked, and the door clicked open.
Cool night air flooded her lungs. Forest scent — pine, moss, damp earth — intoxicated her. She ran.
Behind her, alarms would be soundi
