Page 23 of Bull Moon Rising

Five hells, I am not explaining that wedding custom to her. “We’re skipping it. Doing things the human way,” I say gruffly, and grab my new bride by the arm. “Hurry with that certificate. We’re on a tight schedule.”

The priestess hurries away, and Aspeth shoots me a curious look. “Should I inquire about the ring ceremony?”

In which she fits a ring around my cock and balls to show that she owns me, and I pierce her cunt with a matching (slightly smaller) one to show my side of fealty? It’s a tender ceremony. It also works a lot betterwith female Taurians, who are as superbly wide as they are strong. I can’t imagine it with Aspeth, who I feel nothing for but vague annoyance. I imagine pinching her cunt in my hand until her clit pokes free, and then piercing it with a ring to show she’s mine, and my cock stirs.

All right, I feel nothing but vague annoyanceanda hint of moon-related arousal. “Don’t ask about the rings.”

She nods, and we drop it.

A brief time later, we have the certificate and hurry back to Magpie’s dormitory. Inside, it’s all chaos, as I knew it would be. The students are in the kitchen in varying stages of readiness. Lark is hungover, her head on the table, her hair in her face. The tiny priestess who arrived last night is in uniform, but she also looks ready to cry as she argues with Lark about who is in charge. She clutches prayer beads tightly in her hands and all but falls to her knees when we return. Aspeth’s companion is busy ironing her shirt, wearing nothing but a chemise as she leans over the stove in the kitchen. There are two other pots on the stove, both bubbling over and hissing. The slitherskin is the only calm one, dressed in a tiny uniform, his small hands tucked at his waist, but he’s wearing his enormous house on his back despite my repeatedly telling him not to.

To top it off, there’s a strange fat orange cat in the center of the table, eating the last of the salted pork.

“Where’s Magpie?” I growl, trying not to lose my temper at the chaos.

“Where she always is,” Lark says, grinding the heel of her palm into her eye socket. “Sleeping it off.”

My temper flares just a bit more. I make up for Magpie’s lack a lot of the time, but fledgling initiation is one of those times when she needs to be there. I shouldn’t be surprised that she’s still soused, but I am definitely growing more and more annoyed with every moment that passes. It’s up to me to take care of things yet again, and make excuses for her. Even though I owe Magpie my life and would willingly work at her side for the rest of my days, it’s hard to remain loyal when she doesn’t even bother to do the bare minimum.

Jaw clenched, I tug on my nose ring. It’s a twitchy habit, like humans biting their nails. Now, do I wake her up, knowing there will be a scene?That she’ll likely scare these students off before they ever start their training? The last time I dragged Magpie along with her students against her will, she bitched the entire time, vomited in someone’s pack, and passed out on the obstacle course and had to be carried home. I heard about it from the other Taurians for weeks on end.

It’s fine, I remind myself. Everything is fine. I can handle this. If Magpie wants to sleep, she can mucking sleep. I’ll take over her duties like I always do. “Let’s just get going.”

They ignore me. Lark continues to rub her head. The priestess starts another prayer, her lips moving as she passes the beads through her folded fingers. The slitherskin continues to eat his breakfast, ignoring the chaos around him. The woman ironing her blouse by the stove holds her top up, admiring the pleats, and Aspeth moves to her side. “Oh, that’s nice work. Can you do mine next?”

“No,” I say quickly. “No more ironing. It’s time to go.” I grab the priestess by her collar—at least she’s dressed—and haul her to her feet. “You. Get shoes. You by the stove, get your clothes on. Lark, get rid of the cat.”

Aspeth sputters, turning to look at me. “No one is getting rid of the cat—”

I ignore her and point at the slitherskin. “You, take your house off. You need to leave it behind.”

The lizard-creature takes one look at me, blinks one eyelid, and returns to eating. He does not, in fact, take off the oversized shell house he has attached to his back. He doesn’t even bother to tug on one of the straps. He just ignores me, too. At least Guillam will listen—

I pause. “Where in the five hells is Guillam?”

“Left this morning,” Lark offers, struggling to her feet and picking up the cat. “Said he didn’t want to be with a bunch of women and a frog. No offense to you, Kipp.” She adjusts the fat cat in her arms and frowns at the cat hair that floats into the air. “How often do you brush this monster?”

“Every day,” Aspeth tells her. “She’s just a shedder. And did you hear that, Instructor Hawk? Guillam left and now we’re back to five. This is perfect.”

I stare at my team of fledglings for the new season. At the half-dressedwoman with perfect pleats in her blouse. At the weepy priestess and the drunk niece of my boss. At the slitherskin who ignores me.

At my newwife.

This is a nightmare, and Aspeth’s pleasure at finding Guillam to be gone is getting on my last nerve.

I downgrade her from “sexually intriguing but vexing” back to just “vexing” again.

ASPETH

“It gives me great pride to welcome the newest class of fledglings to the Royal Artifactual Guild.” Rooster beams at us from his spot behind an ornate wooden podium. He stands taller than the podium, which makes me suspect he’s standing on a box of some kind. “On behalf of King Kethrin III, we look forward to working with you and training you to join our ranks.”

My heart wants to burst with excitement. I tremble in my seat in the audience, thrilled to my core. This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for. I don’t care who I have to marry, or train with, or where I have to sleep. I’m going to be trained to be a guild member. I’m going to save my hold. I’m going to—

“You’d think he’s handpicked all of us with that tone of voice,” Gwenna says, leaning over to my side. “Acts like he’s the king.”

“Hush,” I whisper to her. While Rooster is a little pompous (or rather, a lot), I don’t blame him for taking pride in the welcoming ceremony. It’s an important moment in our lives to be added to the roster of fledglings, the trainees who will live in the guild nests (such a clever name!) and work with the guild masters to learn the craft.

“Once you are signed into the fledgling lists, there is no backing out.” Rooster casts a stern look over the audience. “You will either pass your test or fail. Fail, and you will become one of the guild repeaters. You will work with the guild, performing menial tasks and paying off the lessons squandered until another guild master decides to let you fledge again.”