Cain's steps were steady at first as he left the women's dorms behind, the night air brushing against his skin and carrying the faint scent of damp earth and grass. The hum of the academy at night was muted, almost comforting. His mind replayed fragments of the conversation with Kiyomi, her teasing, her half-truths, and the unspoken weight he thought he had glimpsed in her eyes.
Then, without warning, a sharp pain stabbed through his temples, forcing him to stagger slightly. He pressed a hand to his forehead, his breath hitching. The world tilted, the familiar quiet of the night replaced with an oppressive, pressing weight inside his skull. It was not fatigue. Not stress. Something else entirely.
"What the—" Cain muttered under his breath, gripping his hair. The pain deepened, spreading to his jaw and chest, like a fire igniting from the inside out.
And then the hunger came.
