Page 144 of Gemini Wicked

I meet the Dark Fae King’s single eye, suddenly wide with apprehension, and wonder if he’s ever gonna feel comfy enough in my bed to take off that eyepatch. I can tell it chafes him to sleep wearing the thing, but it’s like a permanent part of his armor. I’ve never seen him without it.

“I am,” I pant into the sudden, trembling silence, broken only by Lucius’ labored breaths. “I really am. You’re one of us, Zephyr. Ash is too. Whatever happens now, whoever knocks me up, we’re all in this together.”

Ash studies my face with his level gaze, then gives me a slow nod.

“Gonna take me a little time to get used to… some of this.” His keen silver stare flickers toward Ronin, then he fixes on Zephyr with a furrowed brow. “But assuming Sparrow here’s game? You can count me in, princess.”

“My word on it.” Zephyr crawls up my body like a cat, dragging his supple olive-skinned frame right up against V’s tall pale length. His Unseelie scent of burnt amber and dragonscale perfumes the night air. His cock rears from a lick of moss-green pubic hair that tickles my tummy. The contact leaves a slick of precum in his wake.

“My word,” the Unseelie repeats intently, head turning to lock on V’s suspicious stare. “Your enemies are my enemies. Your allies are my allies. All your offspring, from any sire, I shall protect and champion as mine own. Whatever you love, I too shall love—with every fiber that remains intact in my twisted and damaged soul.

“If…” Zephyr pauses, his face fractures, and my heart nearly stops. “If, that is to say, you are willing to accept me, with all my… flaws… and Ash alongside me, into this harem. If that is so, then we are—both of us—yours.”

Now he’s asking me about his eye.

About whether it matters to me that he’s disfigured (which is the way he sees it).

I don’t give a single shit about the eye, except for the damage its loss has clearly caused to both Zephyr and Ronin. So I suck in a breath to jump right on that offer. (I mean, two Fae for the price of one? That’s like a blue light special in the fun department.)

But before I can answer, my snake pounces.

“Do you expect someone to give you a medal, darling?” Vasili’s lashes, slicked with mascara in cobalt blue, drop over his dangerous stare. “So you’re damaged goods like the rest of us. Don’t expect anyone here to be impressed. Let’s just hope that fabled Fae word of yours is worth the hype.”

Too quickly for anyone to react, V shoots out an arm to wrap around Zephyr’s tousled green head, then dives in to seal the promise.

The Goblin King fuses the Dark Fae King’s alluringly cum-stained lips with his in a fierce claiming kiss.

Chapter Thirty

Ash

So you probably wanna know what went down in our bed after that Romanov snake (a guy I still don’t totally trust) laid a liplock on Zephyr.

Well, sorry to bust anyone’s bubble, but that story’s gonna have to wait. The eight of us in this polycule can’t just fuck all the time.

Not when we got a ball to attend and a demon to trap.

I roll out of the sack at first light. Light Fae like me, we’re early risers. We like to say howdy to the sun. So I’m the first one up.

Plus I didn’t just spend half the night fucking like Sparrow and those shifters in rut with our fertile princess.

Yeah, I mighta joined the royal harem.

But I’m a wait-and-see kinda guy.

So I still haven’t dipped my wick in one of these full group encounters. Dick’s still dry, and gonna stay that way till I trust these guys.

Same way I trust Sparrow and the princess.

While I lace up my britches and pull my vest over my shoulders in the early morning hush, the first burning sliver of morning sun peeks over the horizon to paint the sea red. Sure hope that’s not some kinda omen, considering the shindig tonight. A finger of sunlight stretches through the ripply volcanic glass to graze the tangle of naked bodies piled in our bed.

Our princess, she’s right in the middle of that puppy pile.

Her curvy little body’s barely even visible under the possessive sprawl of the wolf and the dragon and my Sparrow. (Sure, Sparrow’s not fucking her other guys yet—only her—but I don’t need a crystal ball to know that shit’s coming.) Zara’s teal curls and his green mane spill together like a color explosion across that rumpled pillow they’re sharing.

That’s a sight that makes my chest ache, for real. My guy deserves to be happy. With her, I figure he’s got a real shot.

Zara deserves to be happy too. Not just be queen popping out kids for the kingdom.

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