Bull Moon Rising (Royal Artifactual Guild #1) Read Online Ruby Dixon

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Royal Artifactual Guild Series by Ruby Dixon
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Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
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Four isn’t enough, though. Four won’t qualify us to have a class of fledglings. We need five.

I should be out with the other guild Taurians, celebrating another year of business. A full class means the odds of a student passing are that much greater. Any student who completes the certification at the end of the year becomes a full-fledged guild member, and to pay back their training, they tithe a quarter of their earnings for the first five years. But I don’t have enough students for this year, and last time Magpie was in charge of training, we had no one pass because she was in her cups more than she was out of them. If we don’t get more students trained and working for the guild patrons, we won’t have enough funds to live on. The thought runs circles in my head, making me pace.

I don’t drink, though. Watching Magpie ruin herself with alcohol has killed that particular vice for me.

The pounding on the door gets louder, and I growl to myself as I throw on a pair of breeches, then storm down the hall to the entrance of the dormitory. If this is one of Magpie’s drinking friends…

When I throw the door open, a snarl on my mouth, I’m ready to shove the idiot down the alley. It’s not one of Magpie’s drunken friends, though. It’s her niece, Lark, who seems to be following in her aunt’s footsteps. She’s clearly drunk, her eyes red and slitted, a dopey expression on her face as she sees me. Her gaze roams over my bare chest and my unbelted pants, which are threatening to fall down my hips. “Damn.”

“Shut up. I’m your teacher, and you should be in your room, not ogling my chest.” I gesture up the stairs, angry at her carelessness. “Classes start at dawn.”

“Classes don’t start until we have five because five is the sacred number,” she corrects, staggering in a step to get out of the rain. She belches, then waves a hand in front of her face and mine. “Whew. I’m ripe enough to scare the ratlings in the Everbelow. Glad you finally woke up. I’ve been knocking forever.”

“I should have left you out there,” I growl.

“You wouldn’t. You’re too nice.” She pats my bare arm, squeezes it just a little more than she should, and then weaves over to the bench by the door and flops down. “Nice and built. You should be glad I’m here, Hawk. I’ve got solutions.”

Not likely. “You don’t tell a Taurian he’s nice,” I grumble. “You tell them that they’re fearsome. As for you, you’re an absolute tunneling mess, Lark. If you plan on going into the Everbelow, you need to be sober….”

I trail off as two strangers step inside from out of the rain, wearing cloaks and carrying bags. One drags a muddy cart in after her, both of them dripping water and leaving a trail on the clean floors. The first stranger shakes off a hood, showing a round, displeased face as she glares at me and then her surroundings.

“What is this?” I ask—and then the second person removes their hood.

It’s the woman from the recruitment meeting earlier. The tall, bossy one in brown who declared that she was going to be in the guild.

Oh, bury me. This cannot be happening.

“I am giving up the booze,” Lark declares in a wobbly voice. She raises a hand in the air as if toasting, but holds no mug. “Tonight was a proper send-off. Goodbye, drink. I’ll miss you dreadfully.”

“You picked up a few strays,” I say flatly, eyeing the two newcomers.

“I found more people for our class.” Lark beams at me and then slumps over the bench, yawning.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. They’re right there.” Lark gestures at the women waiting nearby. “Can’t you see them?”

Of course I see them. It’s just that this is a spectacularly bad idea.

Eyeing the two dripping women standing in the doorway, I shake my head. “You can’t just grab anyone off the street and make them fledglings, Lark. That’s not how this works. It’s a dangerous job.”

The one from the meeting earlier—the one who called herself Sparrow—draws herself to her full height and gives me a haughty stare. “What makes you think we don’t want to join? We know what we’re getting into.”

Lark chortles. “See?”

I cut her off with a wave of my hand, staring down the stranger. Bad enough that Magpie already has a priestess and a slitherskin and her niece. We’re already not being taken seriously because Magpie’s a drunk and I’m a Taurian. Two women and a slitherskin is just going to add fuel to the fire, but Magpie’s made promises and I’ve no choice except to keep them. Might as well lump all our problems into one group and realize we’re wasting our time.


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