Page 39 of Gemini Wicked

Not to mention semi-officially mated (kinda by accident) to Zephyr, the Unseelie King. And semi-officially shagging Ash, the Seelie Prince.

Assuming those two Fae haven’t changed their minds about wanting me… us… I mean, all my warlocks. And all our baggage—

“So what’s our play?” Draco growls in his gravelly voice. Under his spiky thatch of ice-white hair, his arctic eyes flick over me and half my mates packed like sardines around the settee. His lips twist in a scowl. “Assuming you got one.”

This Viking might be Mallory’s guy, but I swear the temp in this domus plunges ten degrees every time he opens his mouth. Still, Mal’s snuggled right up against that Icelandic version of the Terminator like he’s not the most alarming thing that’s walked into our domus since Bjorn the polar bear shifter last winter.

“Don’t you mean, assuming we trust you?” Vasili’s mouth curls in a silky smile. “You’re not exactly your stodgy and responsible elder brother, are you, Draco? Where does the Mars clan stand in the matter of our so-called rebellion?”

Draco’s cold eyes narrow and his big shoulders bunch under his spiked leather jacket. Mallory rests a hand on his knee to hold him.

“Draco stands with me,” she says firmly. “And I might not look like much—but appearances can be deceiving.”

Before any of us can dig into that, Mallory’s freckled face fires with determination and she leans forward. “Besides, there’s one other thing we came to tell you.”

“Oh, we’re listening, McSnicker,” Vasili purrs. “With bated breath.”

Now it’s my turn to slide a hand over his silk kimono-clad knee. “Don’t be an asshole with them, okay, Goblin King? They really are here to help.”

“Yeah, don’t be a brat,” Neo chimes in helpfully from his seat at my feet. “Zara needs every ally we can get.”

V hums with annoyance, but his cool fingers glide over mine (which is the closest he ever comes to an apology). His snaky humor lurks in our mating bond. I’m guessing he doesn’t totally mind when sweet Neo calls him a brat.

Especially when, like, he is one.

His cool touch trails up my wrist, sharp black-painted nails tickling my skin like talons. Which is more than enough to get me all goosebumpy and tingling and totally sidetracked.

Yowsa.

Suddenly all I can think about is how vicious my horrible bully of an alpha’s gonna be later.

When he finally gets me cornered.

In our bed.

Mallory’s Creole boyfriend Jae slinks onto the sofa beside her and leans in to rub his face into her neck (which is classic shifty stuff. He’s scenting her.) The beads and juju woven in his sleek black dreads slither over his shoulder.

And now Mal’s blushing, because her redhead complexion’s too fair to hide it.

“Me, I walk unseen on this island when I wish,” Jae says softly, in the musical singsong of his Creole voice. “There is much I see. Tonight I see lot of traffic coming and going from Villa Tiberius.”

“That den of vipers.” Still vigilant near the glass doors, Max stalks back and forth. By now, he’s so suspicious he practically has smoke leaking from his nostrils. “Those creatures are Zara’s enemies. And they are mine.”

Villa Tiberius is, like, our rival residential college. They bullied me like they bullied Max when we first turned up at Icarus. If Mallory and the Hadrians are Hufflepuffs, those cliquey witches at Tiberius (who all lean Aquarius) are definitely Slytherin.

And us? Given my creative cat burglary approach to the law, Neo’s sky-high I.Q., and V’s twisty cunning, we’re definitely Ravenclaws. Because sometimes we skirt the rules. And we’re smart enough and badass enough to get away with it.

I mean, usually.

“Somebody moving in at the rival domus?” I rest my empty mug on the floor and sift my fingers through Neo’s soft curls to caress his warm nape. That’s both for his comfort and mine. My fated mate’s always responsive, but tonight he’s a little withdrawn. His hurt still smarts in our mating bond.

I breathe in his clean soapy scent of sage and lavender and hope he won’t stay upset for too long.

If our sweet bookworm learning to fight is the price I’ve gotta pay to earn his forgiveness?

Guess I better get used to that.

“Yeah, a bunch of someones are moving in at Tiberius,” Mallory says in response to my question. “With a lot of luggage too. It looks like an actual entourage.”

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