Hazel
Frowning, Knut pushed me inside. He set what he was carrying on the table—a gruesome bundle of headless game.
When he faced me again, I noted that he was between me and the door. It did not matter; I could not fight him or escape, but I had to make him see.
The fever had started as soon as the moon rose. It came over me every full moon, but something—maybe the time spent in the warrior’s embrace—brought it on early.
Knut loomed over me. “Tell me about this sickness.”
“It is a curse, much like yours. It comes over us...a few of my abbey sisters and I.” I wrung my hands. Just the sight of him made my mouth water, my s*x dampen, my insides tighten with longing.
“How long does it last?”
“A few days. When I was at the abbey, the friar would lock up the women who went into heat. I w
