Page 86 of Gemini Wicked

Zephyr.

The very thought of my rival—and that devil’s bargain I made with Vasili weeks ago, a debt which is now coming due—makes my hackles rise. My dragon grumbles a warning. His heavy coils slither inside my skin.

An ominous growl rises from my chest.

This disturbance stirs a ripple of covert glances and sly whispers from my classmates.

“Now then,” Lucius says briskly, choosing to ignore my latest disruption. He pads around his lectern and advances down the aisle with his silent tread. “Who can tell us about the Discord? Let’s hear from you, Ms. Gemini.”

He is fooling no one.

No one is deceived by his careful formality toward Zara.

The entire school knows they are fucking.

Just as the entire school knows that, despite our latest glaring breach of decorum and those shocking photos splashed across the pages of The Witching Inquisitor, the Dean has not fired him.

Perhaps this is because Lucius is so strict with Zara in the classroom.

Even now, when his wolf is in rut and he is looming over her desk as though he can barely refrain from bending her over and lifting her skirt and shredding her schoolgirl panties so he can knot her again—

“Um, okay, the Discord.” Zara squirms in her seat under his heated gaze and sits up straighter. Because I have bitten her, I can sense the force of her concentration through our mating bond. She is determined to pass her exams.

In truth, I can sense everything she is feeling. Especially the warm ache of need that pulses and throbs in her divine pussy.

My sovereign’s fertile body is preparing her to breed.

Ours she is ours we will fill her with our seed she will ripen with our clutch—

Through the restless rumble of my rutting dragon against my inner ear, Zara’s lively voice floats through my inflamed senses.

“So, the Discord is the period when, you know, the Dark Fae and the Light Fae lived together with each other and all the races in the regular witching world and sang kumbaya.” Zara’s dutiful tone turns wry. “Only that didn’t go so great. That’s because the Fae made war on the other arcane races—”

“In point of fact,” a cool voice sneers from the doorway, “it was the other arcane races that made war on us.”

Suddenly our doorway is commanded by a slim green figure who is both familiar and strange. The intruder’s olive slacks and blazer, buttoned over a tight waist and narrow hips, bracket a trendy shirt with oversized cuffs and a slender stripe of tie. This classic attire looks exotic and unsettling when it is coupled with a curtain of moss-green hair, a pair of pointed ears, an eyepatch, and a heartless expression.

Undeceived by his conventional clothing, I recognize at once the hated form of my rival.

I push back my chair with a noisy scrape and shoot to my feet with a snarl.

Lucius gives me a quelling look that commands me—very clearly—to remain where I am. While I hover reluctantly and quiver with tension, Lucius turns courteously toward the door.

“Excellent,” my headmaster says to our staring class. “Here’s our guest speaker now. Zephyr, King of the Dark Fae, Your Moon-Dazzled Radiance, you are welcome.”

Lucius speaks with the deliberate heft of witchcraft being woven. As his words fade, the tingle of common magic ripples over my hide. This is the feel of the protective ward he has placed on this classroom to protect our precious queen.

Parting to allow my enemy inside.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Ronin mutters in a tone of absolute disgust. He shoves his notebook aside and plants his feet on the floor with dangerous intent—a breath away from violence.

My dragon trembles with the need to explode from my skin.

That is an instinct that would demolish this classroom, injure my mates, and get me expelled.

Narrow and assessing, Zephyr’s jade gaze slides over me—the most immediate threat. Then his eye skips over Ronin, as though he flinches from the heat of that blazing glare, and settles on Zara’s riveted face.

With her usual candor, she says what we are all thinking.

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