Page 64 of By the Horns
At any rate, I’m on it and will keep you updated when I’ve narrowed things down more.
—Raptor
PS—My reward had better be mucking worth all this hassle. Jay is a pain in my tail.
Gwenna is quietthroughout the weekend.
It annoys me. A lot.
I don’t know what to make of this newest twist. I’m not a deep thinker, and so I don’t understand the reasoning behind scrawling messages insidebooks. Every time I ask Gwenna what she knows, she insists she knows nothing. I trust her. I do. But if she is innocent, why get quiet and withdraw from the rest of us?
I hate her silence. I hate it because I want to fix it and I don’t know how.
I try to make her sass me all weekend. I smack her training sword out of her hand over and over as I teach her the basics of sparring. She’s mucking dreadful at combat. She’s a little better on the obstacle course that I make her run while roped to me, but I purposefully keep my pace brisker than I should because I want her to tell me to slow down. I want her to bellow at me or say something sharp and cutting. I want her to beGwenna.
She doesn’t, though. She just squares her shoulders and tries again without complaint.
It pisses me off.
Maybe I’d be more sympathetic if I wasn’t potion-dry. As it is, I’m starting to regret that I don’t have another dose waiting for me. I thought by now Gwenna would be under me every night—or, since we’re both fledglings, we’d be hiding in a closet somewhere with me between her thighs. That my knot would be well and truly milked on a regular basis.
But we haven’t touched again since she gave me that hand job last weekend.
It’s irritating me. It’s not her fault that it’s irritating me. I know I’m impossible when I’m on edge. Most Taurians are known to be moody leading up to the rutting frenzy of the Conquest Moon. I have the hand of the god upon me at all times, though. My knot never goes dormant. I am endlessly needing, endlessly searching for relief.
And I get cranky.
I’m aware of it. I can’t help it, but I’m aware of it.
It’s one reason I never stay on any particular team for long. I end up snapping at someone and making an enemy. Or two. Or three. Other Taurians understand it and tolerate my moodiness more than others, but I’ve burned a lot of bridges with humans.
I should take another potion. Be done with it. Deaden my cock, improve my mood, and focus on finding the thief. It’s just that…I want Gwenna to touch me. And I don’t want to be numb to it when she does. Taking the potion feels like a betrayal of the woman I want.
And I do want her. More than anything. Even if she’s the thief. I’veconcluded that if she is, it’s because she’s being forced to do something against her will. Maybe she got pulled into a bad business deal. Maybe she’s being blackmailed.
My goal is to find out what’s going on so I can help her. Not just because I like her. Not just because the guild needs the leak plugged. I want Gwenna’s eyes to shine when she looks at me. I want her eager and excited to touch me, her savior. Am I shit for wanting that? Maybe.
But I want it just the same.
I run her through frantic training on Sixthday. The others stake out the library, taking turns at watching over things. They return to the nest to eat a meal, then head back to the library again that evening. “We’ve got a great spot on the roof next door,” Arrod says, shoving a full loaf of fresh bread into his pack for later. “We can see everything that happens down below. If someone goes through the front doors, we’ll see them. If someone heads around to the back alley, we’ll see them. No one’s getting in under our watch.”
“Good,” I tell him, and secretly I’m glad that Kipp, Hemmen, and Arrod are all heading out again. It’ll give Gwenna the freedom to touch me if she pleases. I’m thinking with my cock, for certain.
But that night, Gwenna is quiet once more. She’s silent through dinner, and if I prompt her, she’ll speak, but otherwise seems lost in thought.
I’m not getting touched tonight. I fight back my frustration, because I imagine she’s scared and worried, which is far more important than the incessant throbbing in my knot.
Gwenna goes to bed early. I decide to as well, since we’ll be up at dawn to work on more training. She’s silent, but I stare at the ceiling, drumming my fingers on my stomach. My mind won’t stop churning. Finally, I roll over and look at her.
She’s awake, curled into a ball under the blankets, but her eyes are open.
“You okay?” I ask.
Gwenna hesitates. “I don’t know.”
“Do you…”Want me to fuck you until you can’t think straight?“…need to talk?”
She bites her lip in the darkness. “I want to see Sparrow tomorrow. Can we do that instead of training?”
