Naturally, Glenn subdued that restless stir within himself. He lowered his head with deliberate calm and glanced toward the peculiar device.

  What he saw struck him with sudden astonishment.

  Moonlight, gathered like a single beam from a spotlight, poured straight down onto the instrument. Thin, ribbon-like strands coiled around it—indescribably beautiful, despite the contraption’s crude appearance.

  Glenn shifted his gaze to the woman and was about to speak, but she raised a finger to her lips, bidding him to silence.

  Light slipped beneath her hood, revealing lips as crimson as flame—lips that stirred desire with a single breath. The shape of them as she hushed him was enough to set any man’s heart racing; it was far too alluring.

  Glenn swallowed back the question on the tip of his tongue. He could guess why she concealed herself so thoroughly—he dared not imagine what sort of devastating enchantress hid beneath that tattered black robe.

  He forced himself to focus on the device and waited quietly.

  Under the moon’s illumination, it pulsed with a faint, rhythmic glow, continuing steadily, endlessly.

  Glenn prided himself on his patience, yet more than three hours crawled by without progress. Bored, he finally took out a book to pass the time.

  Another hour slipped away. Just as he was reading by moonlight, the world dimmed before his eyes. He looked up— the moonbeam that bathed the strange device had vanished.

  A glance at the sky revealed clouds veiling the moon. Likely, he thought, the process would resume once the moon emerged again. He closed his book, ready to rest his eyes.

  But the woman suddenly spoke. “It’s done.”

  “Huh?” Glenn blinked in confusion. “Aren’t we waiting for the moon to come out again?”

  Crouching beside the device, she adjusted its components. “This process cannot be interrupted. If it stops, it ends.”

  Glenn nodded. Now seemed an appropriate time to ask questions. “So you came all the way here specifically to collect this… moonlight magic?”

  “Something like that,” she replied vaguely.

  “Is this place special?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Then why insist on doing it here?”

  “Because it’s needed.”

  Glenn rubbed his brow. Speaking with her was exhausting—though her voice was undeniably pleasant.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Well, you get back to your work. I’ll head to my wagon and get some rest.”

  But he had taken only a few steps when an overwhelming, soul-deep yearning surged from behind him, flooding through every pore of his body.

  He spun around.

  The woman in the black robe had lifted a spherical stone from the device—small enough to fit in her palm, glowing with soft lunar light.

  The desperate hunger tearing through him emanated from that stone.

  Every cell in Glenn’s body screamed for him to seize it, no matter the cost.

  She turned her head toward him, gave the stone a teasing shake, and asked in a sultry voice, “Do you want it?”

  Gods, he wanted it more than anything! …But what came out of his mouth was: “No.”

  He turned on his heel. The thing was clearly troublesome—his reason warned him not to touch it, even though his soul and flesh protested violently.

  The woman froze like a statue, shock etched beneath her hood.

  She could not believe she had miscalculated.

  A moonstone should have exerted irresistible allure over any werewolf—even a special one. Resisting it, let alone denying it aloud, should have been nearly impossible.

  Yet he not only refused—he turned away smoothly and walked off.

  Sensing the fluctuations in the surrounding magic, she was certain the moonstone’s effect had activated. Which meant he had resisted it through sheer will.

  Unbelievable.

  She remained motionless until Glenn was about to crest the hill. Only then did she tuck the stone away and cast a spell, pulling him instantly back to her side.

  Glenn blinked, dazed by the sudden shift in scenery. He had been concentrating so fiercely on suppressing his desire that his reactions lagged behind.

  He frowned at the mysterious woman. “What are you trying to do?”

  She chuckled softly. “You are truly extraordinary—more intriguing than anyone I’ve met. Perhaps you’re destined for something great.”

  Her enigmatic declaration only made Glenn want to roll his eyes.

  Then she added, “Would you like to know what that stone is?”

  “What is it?” Glenn asked, indulging her.

  “A fragment of the moon—the only substance capable of condensing lunar magic.” She sat by her pack, drew out a cup steaming with white mist, lifted it beneath her hood for a sip, and continued:

  “Legend says the creator of werewolves adored the Moon Goddess. Thus, wolves and werewolves are born with an innate longing for the moon. Even the most frenzied werewolf can regain their senses under pure lunar magic. Charming folklore, isn’t it?”

  Hearing this, Glenn finally understood his abnormal reaction earlier.

  At the same time, he grew wary. If she could discern his werewolf nature, she was no ordinary wanderer. Her appearance here was likely no coincidence—she had come specifically for him.

  “But you…” Her hood shifted as though her hidden eyes were fixed on him, the faint outline of her chin visible. “But you, little one, you truly exceed my expectations. To resist that yearning… the self-control required is immense. Perhaps that is why you—and only you—are worthy of such power and opportunity.”

  Power and opportunity? Does she know something about… me?

  Glenn kept his face composed, silently analyzing every word.

  “I think you’ve already guessed it,” she said. “I came here solely to wait for you. And the moonstone—” she drew out the softly glowing fragment again— “was prepared especially for you. Free of charge. Now…”

  She raised it. “Tell me, do you still want it?”

  Glenn turned his head aside, tone unchanged. “No.”

  Free things were always the most expensive—that was what he truly thought.

  He waited a long moment with no response. Then, cautiously, he glanced over.

  She was standing right before him, staring down at him with uncanny stillness.

  Perhaps through magic, the darkness beneath her hood remained impenetrable even to his night vision—he could see no more than the outline of her nose.

  But none of that mattered.

  Because a droplet of saliva was this close to falling onto his face.

  “What are you doing?!” Glenn leapt back.

  The woman seemed to snap out of it. She wiped the almost-fallen droplet away.

  “My apologies,” she murmured. “I couldn’t help myself. You are simply… far too enticing.”

  What the hell!? Glenn stared at her as though she were some rare and particularly unhinged specimen.