“Seed?” I asked incredulously with a scoff. “Men donate theirseedto a woman who is not their wife?”
The very notion of it was almost vile to me. “How does a man have heirs to give his treasures to if his children can run about at random in such a way?”
“Not every man needs an heir, Arthur,” Guinevere told me dryly, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Why would your mother ever do that? How did she protect herself without a husband?”
One of Guinevere’s dark brows rose. “She never wanted a husband—or a wife for that matter, and as for protecting herself? She owned a gun.”
“Gun?”
“It’s a weapon that shoots lead projectiles at someone’s enemy,” she explained, pointing two fingers at me with her thumb in the air.
I examined the digits as her thumb twitched and she made a noise that sounded like a rough exhalation of air before dropping her hand. “Would that not just be a bow and arrow?”
She shook her head. “No, these go much, much faster. They can tear through flesh in a blink and some of them can shoot multiple projectiles one after another.”
Her explanation only revealed more questions for me to ask, but the queries died on my lips as her brows drew together and she frowned.
“What is it?” I asked, suddenly afraid something was wrong with her.
“It’s nothing,” Guinevere said with a shake of her head. “I’m just surprised I can tell you about guns in the first place. Apparently the gods don’t see that as important enough to knock the wind out of me over.”
Guinevere ran her hands down the front of the pale dress she was wearing before tilting around my bulk and changing the subject. “Wow, medieval nests are so different from what I’m used to!”
She was forcing a note of false-brightness into her voice as she moved around me and practically danced out of my reach as she approached the nest.
“Is it so different?” I asked, staring at the empty structure. It was made out of woven straw, like a massive flat basket with a cushion placed in the center. Unlike regular beds which were rectangular, this one was built in a circle. On the floor next to it were piles of furs and extra cushions.
I had only ever seen one other nest and that had been my foster-mother, Lady Anne’s. Kay and I had received the scolding of a lifetime from Sir Ector that day for daring to go into their private quarters—the old alpha had explained that an omega’s nest was sacred and that only the omega and her alpha should ever lay their eyes on it.
Now I was staring at the empty one in front of me and I was not sure what the fuss had been about.
“Yes,” Guinevere told me simply as she drew her fingers along the textured sides before gesturing to the pile on the floor. “For one we use soft blankets and pillows—almost no one uses furs anymore.”
“It should not be on the floor,” I told her gruffly, suddenly irritated at Leodegrance’s servants for daring to place something my omega would lie upon on the cold floor. I was about to turn around and bark orders at the people who were undoubtedly still waiting outside when Guinevere’s soft giggle stopped me.
“You don’t know much about omegas do you, Arthur?”
Her question made me pause. I had never had much interest in the fairer designation prior to my sudden marriage to the woman in front of me—so all I knew was what had been told to me by Sir Ector when he was instructing us on proper alpha behavior.
Sex, or at least the act of it, was not spoken about in plain terms. My men, while bawdy in their exploits with the women around them, had quickly learned to mind their tongue around me.
“I know that my knot is supposed to go in your cunt, is that not sufficient?”
I had been trying to get a rise out of the omega—to distract her from her anxiety about our wedding night—but the sudden flush of her scent nearly drew me over the edge as she frowned up at me.
“It is not‘sufficient,’ isn’t there a tender bone in your body?” she asked as she turned her back to me and surveyed the nest. Then she reached back and gave me a little shove in the direction of the chair that had been shoved into the corner of the room.
Her brown eyes found mine and I saw a flash of something mischievous in them. “Watch me carefully, alpha, or I’m liable not to let you into my nest at all tonight. Consummation or not.”
Her words held a surprising weight to them and I found myself settling down into the chair with a dull thud as she completely ignored my presence in favor of the furs on the ground.
She picked one up and held it up to her nose, giving it a surreptitious sniff. It seemed to pass her inspection and shedumped it into the nest haphazardly before picking up the next one.
The next few minutes were just her picking up another fur or linen and smelling it before either putting it in the nest or chucking it over her shoulder.
“Why do you get rid of some of them?” I asked after she was nearly done with the pile.
