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)
I stare at her in horror. She thinks I’m pregnant? I glance up at Hawk in surprise, then back at the priestess. She’s ignoring Hawk as if he doesn’t exist, her gaze focused entirely on me, and I don’t know whether to laugh or be offended. I decide upon being offended, and pretend to lean in to confide back to her, my voice deliberately loud. “If I have to go another night without this virile buck in my bed, I shall scream. The wedding must happen today.”
She makes a distressed sound and somewhere behind her, I can hear the muffled giggle of a novice. “I see.” She composes herself and holds her hand out, and the novice puts the bag of money in her grip. “I suppose the goddess does love…ahem, love. Take your man’s hands and I will join you.”
“Wait,” I blurt out, looking up at Hawk. “Don’t we need witnesses?”
“The church registers all marriages,” he says.
“For another coin, you can have a lovely certificate to post over your home altar,” the priestess adds, putting her hand out for an additional coin.
Hawk hands it over without question, and I guess we’re about to be married.
EIGHT
HAWK
25 Days Before the Conquest Moon
My new bride’s hands twitch in my sweaty grasp, her cuticles covered in tiny scabs from zealous overchewing. Her expression is bland and composed, but the twitching gives away her nerves. She’s as anxious about this marriage as I am, and when the priestess says the last of the matrimonial prayer, Aspeth breathes a sigh of relief and flashes me a quick smile that takes me aback and makes my tail flick.
I’m still thinking about earlier, replaying the moment in my head time and again when Aspeth realized the priestess was ignoring me. If I have to go another night without this virile buck in my bed, I shall scream. She made a fool of herself—and the priestess—simply to shut down any argument, and I know it was for my benefit.
It was…kind.
“There now. You are married in the eyes of the goddess,” the priestess is saying. Her gaze flicks over me dismissively and then focuses on Aspeth’s composed form once more. “No kiss of union is necessary.”
“Oh, we’ll kiss,” my new wife says cheerfully. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think we weren’t united.” And she puts a hand in the front of my clean, pressed guild shirt and pulls me down toward her. Before I can even think about how I’m going to fit my mouth to her flat-faced human one, she presses a smacking kiss on the leathery end of my nose. “There.”
She gazes up at me, and then impulsively reaches forward and gives me a quick hug.
“So it is done,” the priestess says, and there’s a hint of distaste in her voice. “Go with the goddess.”
“Our certificate, if you please.” Aspeth clings to my arm and beams at the woman as if she truly is the happiest of brides.
The priestess’s smile is tight. “Very well. However, I must say I’m not familiar with the ring ceremony of the Taurian people.” The look she gives me is pointed. “I’m afraid you will have to go elsewhere for that.”
“Ring ceremony?” Aspeth asks.
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 better with 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 annoyance and a 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.