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The moon rose above the trees, bathing the
forest in silver light, making everything beautiful and strange and
mysterious. It was only a sliver away from full, big enough to hang
low in the dark, star-studded sky, and Katarina couldn't take her
eyes from it.
    The wind blew through the trees. She
shivered, clad only in a silky robe and nothing else, her nipples
pressing against the thin fabric. Katarina knew what was supposed
to happen, what she'd been told would happen, but she had no idea
what it would feel like.
    It was the second full moon of the sixth
month – a blue moon. For the young women of her village, a blue
moon falling in the sixth month meant a time of fear and hope,
anticipation and waiting.
    Because that night before the moon turned
full was the only time that the werewolves could breed, and one of
the women would be chosen for the privilege each time.
    The older women always claimed it was a privilege, and the girl who
was chosen as the werewolves' mate was certainly treated that way.
She was given everything she could possibly need, kept from
working, fed good food and herbs meant to increase her fertility.
She would be cossetted and cared for through her pregnancy, and
respected for the rest of her life. The people of the village
treated her like a queen.
    But all the girls knew that what she really
was, was a sacrifice.
    When they had learned that the werewolves
would be breeding this year, the girls of the village had flown
into a frenzy. There was privilege and plenty of rewards that came
with being chosen as the mate, and some girls wanted that – but
other wanted anything but. Since only unmarried women were chosen,
there had been more marriages in the first half of the year than
there had been for two years before.
    Katarina had watched it all with bemusement.
She didn't want to rush into marriage simply to avoid the
possibility of being selected for this task. She had no lack of
suitors – not with her beautiful auburn hair, green eyes, and
apple-red lips. But none of them seemed that serious. They only
hoped that she'd pick one of them out of an urge to avoid the
mating.
    And she hadn't. There had been enough
unmarried girls by the time of the selection that Katarina had
considered her chances slim – and truthfully, she'd been relieved
by that.
    They had been lined up, blindfolded, in the
inn's courtyard. Katarina knew what was meant to happen – the
werewolves' leader would inspect them and choose one, whichever one
he believed was the best suited to their needs. The most fertile,
the strongest. Not the most beautiful or the most talented – that
wasn't what the girls were needed for.
    Some of the other girls, the ones who wanted
to be chosen, had worn perfumes or revealing clothing. Anything to
attract more attention. Katarina had worn her usual clothes, done
nothing special. She'd been nervous, of course, but she'd fully
expected to walk away with nothing more than an interesting
experience. Entire generations of girls grew up without a mating
year happening, after all, and even this time there would be only
one girl chosen.
    Which was why she'd been so shocked when it
had been her.
    Being treated so well had been pleasant
enough, but as the day of the mating approached, Katarina had
gotten more and more nervous. The last woman who'd been chosen,
years before, had died in childbirth – normal childbirth – not too
long ago, so she'd had no one to ask questions of. Matings were
rare, and lifespans weren't that long, not even here. Violence
might never touch the village thanks to the werewolves, but there
was still sickness and accidents and all manner of other
things.
    So Katarina had been alone with her thoughts
and what she could learn from the elders of the village, which
wasn't much. The women chosen for the mating were always sent into
the woods alone, and they rarely spoke of what transpired
afterward. Why would they? Marital relations of any kind were
private business, much less