Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
And I don’t need her avoiding me and then panicking when the lust of the Conquest Moon hits me hard. I’ve heard horror stories of males unable to control themselves and just rutting anything and anyone close by, regardless of whether or not those people wanted to be rutted. It’s why Taurians tend to leave the city during the Conquest Moon season. It’s why we line things up in advance.
So there are no surprises.
My new wife needs to get comfortable with her Taurian husband before we get down to business. Rubbing a hand down my long nose, I pull another pillow from the linen closet in the hall and toss it on the bed, then go in search of my new bride.
I find her upstairs, having a lazy conversation with her friend. Aspeth is sprawled in Gwenna’s bed with the big orange cat tucked at her side. She looks sleepy, her hair is disheveled, and she’s wearing nothing but a thin thigh-length chemise that leaves her arms and legs bare. My knot threatens to act up again, and so I scowl at the two women. “Was today not hard enough already? You should get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be even worse.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Gwenna huffs. She’s sitting on a chair near Aspeth’s spot on the bed, and when I approach, she puts her feet up on the edge of the mattress. It’s a subtle blocking move, easily missed if you don’t know what to look for. “We’ll handle your class. Don’t you worry about me and Sparrow here.”
“Aspeth,” I say firmly, reminding them that they haven’t earned guild names yet, “is my new bride. She needs to sleep in my quarters.”
“Oh, right.” Aspeth sits up with a yawn. “I forgot.”
“How do you forget your husband?” Gwenna asks. “How is that even possible?”
“It’s because some arse keeps making me carry rocks in a backpack and trek through the city.” She slides off the bed with a half smile at me, and then picks up the cat, settling it against her breasts. “Come on, Squeaker. We need to go to bed with your new daddy.”
Ugh. “Don’t call me that.”
She blinks at me, then moves past me into the hall, ignoring what I said and the fact that she’s barely dressed. The fat cat is tucked under her arm, leaving a trail of loose orange cat hair drifting in her wake.
Gwenna clears her throat. “This better be a marriage of convenience. If you hurt her, I’ll murder you.”
“I’ve no intention of hurting her,” I reply stiffly. The insinuation is incredibly insulting.
“Good.” She pauses and then adds, “She’s not used to dressing herself, by the way. You might need to help her in the morning if she can’t reach the laces.” She takes out a set of folded clothes—another uniform—and hands it over to me with an expectant look.
By the bull god, is Aspeth that spoiled? It takes everything I have not to curl my lip. If she’s that pampered, she’s going to be in for a rude awakening over the next several months. Guild members are the height of physical fitness and competency. They’re required to be able to handle any and all situations that might arise deep in the Everbelow, because no one can rescue them when they’re six leagues underground.
Well, no one but a few Taurians, sadly enough. Used to be that the guild only passed the strongest, the most capable, but now with the greed of the holders increasing, the impetus is for the guild to continually grow so more teams can be fielded. Most of them aren’t prepared enough, and so Taurians go down to retrieve anyone in trouble more and more often. I’ve gone on far too many of those missions myself, and seen more than one useless guild member lose his life to stupidity.
Recently, Rooster and the king decided that if a Five finds a Greater Artifact while in training, they’re automatically upgraded to full guild artificer status. That caused a lot of angry rumbling, but the guild ranks have been swelling, which is what Rooster wants. As long as the demand for artifacts is greater than ever, we’ll keep sending people in, I suppose. It bodes well for Magpie’s team. No matter how terrible they are, if they’re even reasonably competent, I should be able to get them into the fledgling tunnels at least.
Maybe there the gods will smile upon them and shove a Greater Artifact under their noses. Who knows.
Aspeth heads for my room, yawning, and I watch as the hem of her chemise plays against the backs of her thighs. They’re thick thighs, which I like. Thick thighs that will feel glorious wrapped around my waist—
“So where am I sleeping?” she asks, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.
I gesture at the bed. It’s big enough for two, even if one of the two is a Taurian.