Page 33 of Bull Moon Rising

“Do you? Or did you just need a warm body? Because that’s what I needed.” She rubs her nose, a sleepy and unguarded motion. “Don’t fretabout whether or not we like each other, Instructor Hawk. That’s not why we married.”

Hearing “Instructor Hawk” while we’re alone together feels…strange. “Muck it. Just call me Hawk.”

“Hawk, then.” She drops her hand and snuggles down into her pillow, clearly ready for sleep.

While I appreciate her practical nature when it comes to our marriage, we’re not on the same page. I’m thinking about sex and she’s thinking about whether or not we’re companionable. It just makes me even more concerned that she’s innocent. “We should talk.”

“Mmm.” She doesn’t stir, but at least she’s listening.

“This isn’t my first Conquest Moon. I’ve experienced two since I hit the proper age. The god doesn’t call to his sons until they’re over the age of eighteen.”

“That’s nice.” Her voice is sleepy.

I continue to stare at the ceiling, then at the crack on the wall that drips water sometimes when it rains. It’s a crack that Magpie’s been swearing to get someone to fix, except she owes the carpenter money. “It’s so if we breed a child, we can support it. Take care of it. I’ve had no children despite two god-callings. This will be my third.”

She’s silent, and I wonder if she’s worried about children.

“I’m not looking to have children this time, so we are in agreement,” I say before she can stress over it. “I need to handle my debts first.” I raise my magicked hand into the air, twisting my wrist and admiring the strength of the runes carved into the metal. Every day, I’m grateful for my hand. It’s a reminder that I’ve been in worse situations, and flexing it calms me. I can handle this. I can handle what this season brings. “Besides, if you’re pregnant, you can’t excavate.”

“Mmm.”

“So we’ll need to talk about birth control of some kind. The Conquest Moon makes our seed exceptionally potent….” Especially because I’ll be buried deep inside her, knotted tight, and the thought sends heat curling up my spine and makes my tail twitch. I clear my throat, steadying myself. “What have you used in the past?”

“Haven’t,” she mumbles sleepily.

I turn my head, and then pull back a little because her pillow is even with mine and one of my horns nearly took her eye out just now. We’ll have to figure that out. Later. “What do you mean, you haven’t?”

“Haven’t had sex.” Her eyes are closed, and she looks half-asleep. “Was waiting for marriage.”

I sit up on my elbows, aghast. “How old did you say you were again?”

“Thirty.” She pulls her pillow over her head. “Do we have to talk about this right now?”

“And you haven’t hadsex?”

“My father would have murdered my suitors.” Her voice is muffled. “And I’m going to murder you if you keep talking while I try to sleep. Can we discuss this later?”

I relax back into bed. Right. Later. Tomorrow.

Fine. It’s fine.

I stare at the ceiling for a while.

“Your father must have been exceedingly protective,” I can’t help but comment. I’ve got a picture in my mind of some fat, wealthy merchant—maybe even an illegal artifact broker—who caters to all the prosperous holders. Of course he’d be protective of his daughter, letting her choose who she wishes to marry and when. And if that daughter is as bookish and spoiled as Aspeth, she probably gets her way in everything.

Even so, something isn’t adding up. Why wait so long to marry and then fling herself into a hasty wedding with a Taurian who needs a rut partner? Am I going to have to deal with an angry father showing up on my doorstep? Demanding my head for deflowering his little girl?

I eye Aspeth again. The pillow is over her head still but I have a mental picture of her in my mind’s eye. She’s not that young or innocent. My gaze steals down to her tits, which slope indecently toward the mattress, her nipples outlined by the thin cloth of her chemise. It’s like they’re taunting me.

“This is damned inconvenient,” I point out to her. “You being a virgin.”

“Why?” She rolls over and presents her back to me, as if done with the conversation. “All I have to do is lie there, right? It’ll be fine.”

I sputter, glaring at her back.

Lie there?

Lie there?