Without a word, I mounted her and then possessed her. Blind lust drove me, and she gasped, “Tom!” shocked at my fierce ardor. My hands were cupped on her shoulders, my mouth covered hers, and she rose to meet me. A sudden terrible need for her overtook me. To touch, skin to skin, in closeness and passion, to share myself completely with another being, to leave behind the sense of being isolated in my own flesh. I held nothing back, and I thought I carried her with me.

Then, as I lay dizzied with completion, she said in a small voice, “Well. You’re a hasty man, Tom Badgerlock.”

My hoarse breathing as I lay atop her made a hideous silence of its own. Shame drenched me. After a terrible stillness, she stirred under me. I heard her draw a breath. “You were hungry!” Perhaps she regretted her words of disappointment, but that did not call them back. Her gentle attempt at making light of it brought the blood to my face and completed my humiliation. I dropped my forehead to the pillow beside hers. I listened to the wind outside in the streets. Some people tramped by in the street, just on the other side of the plank wall. A man’s sudden shout of laughter made me wince. Up in the attic loft, I heard a thump and a squeak. Then Jinna kissed the side of my neck and her hands moved gently down my back. Her voice was a soothing whisper. “Tom. The first time is seldom the best. You’ve shown me your boy’s passion. Shall we find your man’s skills, now?”

So she gave me another chance to prove myself, and I was shamefacedly grateful. I proceeded in a workmanlike way that soon rekindled both of us. There were several things Starling had taught me and Jinna seemed pleased with my second performance. It was only at the very end, as we lay panting together, that her words stirred a misgiving in me. “So, Badgerlock,” she said, and then drew breath beneath me. “That is what it is like for a she-wolf.”

Incredulous, I lifted myself a little from her so that I could look down into her eyes. She blinked up at me, an odd smile on her face. “I’ve never been with a Witted one, before this,” she confided. She drew another, deeper breath. “I’ve heard other women speak of it. That such men are more . . .” She paused, seeking for a word.

“Animal?” I suggested. The word as I spoke it was an insult.

Her eyes widened, and then she laughed uncomfortably. “That isn’t what I was going to say, Tom. You shouldn’t take insults to yourself where a compliment is intended. Untamed, was what I was going to say. Natural, as an animal is natural, with no thought of what any other may think of his ways.”