Marian looked at the sugar spilled on the kitchen floor and wanted to cry. Such a little thing. A bobble of the hand that held the sugar bowl. Normally, it would have caused no more than a moment’s annoyance before she cleaned it up.

But not today. Not when a taloned fist had curled around her womb and was squeezing hard.

She closed her eyes and braced a hand against the kitchen counter. Maybe once in a year, the physical discomfort that came with her moontime escalated to nauseating pain. When it hit, it made her grateful she didn’t wear a Jewel darker than the Purple Dusk because the pain balanced the power that could be wielded the rest of the time, and darker-Jeweled witches always suffered more during the first three days. And no witch could use her Jeweled strength during those first three days without causing herself hideous pain.

Marian opened her eyes and stared at the spilled sugar. The thought of doing any physical labor made her want to curl into a ball and weep, but she knew from experience that even using basic Craft today would increase the pain.

With a shaky sigh, she went to the cupboard in the pantry where she kept her broom and dustpan.

Lucivar stopped in the corridor, the scent hitting him with the force of running into a stone wall. His nostrils flared. His lips pulled back in a silent snarl.

Moon’s blood.

Some change in a witch’s psychic scent or her physical scent triggered that recognition in Blood males once they reached puberty. Maybe it was a trait that had developed long ago as a tool for survival since this was one of the times when the balance of power between the genders swung in the males’ favor. A witch who had to defend herself against a male ended up fighting two adversaries: him and her own body.

Which was why the males closed ranks around a Queen during those days when she was vulnerable. Even the mildest-tempered Blood male became edgy and aggressive, but moon’s blood drove Warlord Princes to the killing edge. Naturally aggressive and territorial, their response to an unknown male was lethal more often than not. That response was the primary reason Blood males were trained to ignore the scent of moon’s blood except for the females in their own family and the Circle of the court they served in.

And that was the problem now, wasn’t it? At the Hall, the male servants looked after, and fussed over, the female servants. The family and the boyos took care of Jaenelle and the coven when they were in residence. The boundaries were established, and all the males accepted them.