Page 22 of The Ashpaw: Part One

She shook her head. “I’ve heard others speak of it, but I don’t understand what it means here.”

He exhaled loudly through his lips, as though he didn’t know where to begin. “You know Lurvekh don’t have babes as easily as humans do, right?”

“I… have heard some such things.”

Hyde then quieted, and he looked around before continuing. “Solvekh are for more than just keeping their homes running. We also offer the Lurvekh better chances at bearing children.”

Heat filled her cheeks. “You mean…”

He nodded. “Aye. And so a Lurvekh may petition for a Solvekh to share a bed with them for a time in the hopes of conceiving.”

So when Jules had said he wanted to petition her…

Fern choked on nothing but her own spit and coughed, her cheeks growing even redder.

“You are moved into the Lurvekh’s private residence,” he said, “and serve only them instead of the whole clan during the length of the petition. If it takes, they may make it a permanent position.”

“Like a mate?”

His eyes dimmed. “No, the Lurvekh still prefer mate bonds with other Lurvekh, for alliances and such. Instead they call us ‘Naravekh,’ signaling our new duty to the house, and you become… I think the best human equivalent is a mistress, only it’s an official title and here, the mate welcomes you.” He paused, looking down. “Most of the time, at least.”

“I see…”

Hyde turned around, finishing one side of the table and moving on to the next.

Her hand absently moved to her lower stomach as she thought. Serving one family would probably be easier than a whole clan, but if the cost was sharing a bed with someone she might not even like, and a house with someone who might like her even less, she wasn’t sure she wanted to pay it.

“Is it only women who are petitioned?”

Hyde didn’t look back but replied. “No. I have three children, but I was not offered a chance to stay.”

“Oh. Oh, I’m so—”

“Please don’t,” he said softly.

Her mouth snapped shut, and they continued their work in silence.

The wolfkin began entering, and Fern looked forward to the constant, hard work for the next few hours, her body becoming too busy for her mind to linger on their conversation.

Not that the men were making it easy to forget. Every lingering glance, every subtle and not-so-subtle sniff as she walked past, and every hand on her backside had her nervous they would whisk her away to be bred at a moment’s notice.

Her wolf was annoyingly excited by the prospect.

She had just placed a platter on one of the tables and was about to get another when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, a heavy weight drawing her back into the room.

Turning around, her breath caught in her chest as Darion approached her.

“How were your first days?”

Her wolf was practically vibrating with excitement, and her voice shook as she replied, “Th-they were fine. Good, I mean. Thank you, sir.”

He grunted softly, inspecting her from head to toe, and Fern fought back the instinct to smooth her hair and skirt. To step closer. To bury her face into his chest as she had when he had brought her here.

“And you are treated well?”

“A-Aye, sir. Alpha.”

If one could call slavery with the only chance of freedom spent in a man’s bed with his child in your belly being treated well, she supposed.