Under the bright full moon hanging low in the black sky like a swollen, watchful eye, the sacred breeding stone platform glowed pale against the packed earth of the village square. Torches lined the edges, their flames licking upward and casting long, dancing shadows across the faces of every man, woman, and child who had gathered. The air smelled of incense, sweat, and the sharp green of crushed herbs scattered around the stone. Drums beat a slow, steady rhythm that matched the pulse of the night itself.

Saanvi lay naked on the cold, smooth surface of the breeding stone. Thick leather straps bit into her wrists and ankles, pulling her arms above her head and spreading her legs wide. A wider band crossed her waist, pinning her hips flat so she could not twist away. Her dark hair spilled across the stone. Her chest rose and fell fast. Sweat already shone on her skin even though the night air was cool.