Blessed

His blush and the heat beneath his skin that was fading too slowly for his liking. His cool bath
that morning had not soothed any of his aches and pains, but had at least left him clean and
smelling of icy mint, which he hoped would keep his mind clear enough for him to get some
work done today.
He’d fallen behind, caught unawares once again by his lust-fever despite how it occurred
regularly every four months in everyone fae-blessed. Anyone with fae blood was afflicted—
given gifts—in some way, although some fortunate souls were granted little more than
occasional discomfort and others experienced no discomfort or fevers of any kind but had drive
enough to match the needs of the third kind. Blessed, the third kind were called, though Mattin
had never felt so.