“Aye. Some Taurians are born with the god’s hand upon them. It means we have a knot always. It means we’re always fertile. We don’t go into a crazed rut like most do during the Conquest Moon. We’re always in rut. Always ready. Always…hungry.” He runs his mouth along the shell of my ear, making me shiver. “Some would say we’re cursed. Some would say we’re blessed.” “Definitely blessed,” I blurt out.
