Page 55 of Gemini Wicked

“Precious boy,” his wolf grates, thick with gravel. “King of dragons.”

Still kneeling at my queen’s side, with a possessive arm wrapped tight around her waist, I lick the dark musk of wolf from my lips and gaze up at my teacher with all the loyalty and devotion that fills my dragon’s heart.

“Wolf king,” I rasp.

I am overcome by this moment. I am overcome by this wolf. I am so overcome by this entire situation that my English fails me and I must lapse into Russian. “If our sovereign will breed, then it is I who must breed her. But to you—you alone—will I yield the honor—to precede me.”

Still lurking in my periphery like a coiled viper upon which one must be careful not to tread, Vasili (who is Russian) utters a scornful hiss.

Well, that is too bad.

Our queen’s witchcraft is so potent that the strength of her desire alone, once she wills it, might be sufficient to overcome the perverse effect of those hateful shots she insists upon.

To render her fertile.

By his own admission, as he reminds us all constantly, our snake does not even want offspring.

In this case, our order of precedence is clear. For once in his self-centered life, my spoiled brat of a sweetheart will have to wait his turn.

Lucius does not share my mother tongue, but he peers deep in my eyes, deep into my very soul. I let him read in my face the silent oath of loyalty I am swearing. His fierce muzzle dips in a grave nod that acknowledges my vow.

Then his fiery gaze veers to Zara.

“Now, on the floor, before the fire.” When Lucius speaks, his accent is thick as borscht. He is fighting not to shift, so his voice is barely human. “I want you on your hands and knees for me, my queen. I want you kneeling when you take my knot.”

Chapter Eleven

Zara

I’m so hot for that knot, I feel dipped in fire.

I’m already slick and dripping from sharing Lucius’ dick like a popsicle with Max for the first time ever. The two of them finally hooking up is the most fabulous birthday gift I could’ve gotten after this whole shitty day.

Meanwhile, my greedy cunt is opening wide like a mouth to welcome my wolf king’s mating knot.

Our scents mingle with the crisp tang of burning applewood from our friendly fire. Max’s rich aroma of leather and brimstone smells like oiled dragonhide, while Lucius’ dark musk is all wolf. And Vasili…?

Man.

V’s pumping out enough caramel and vetiver, laced with potent feel-good pheromones, to take the top of my head off.

Among the four of us who scent, we’re kicking out enough pheromones to make our whole polycule high.

“No more dawdling, little queen. You heard our headmaster. He wants you on the floor. That’s the faculty talking.” Vasili’s usual liquid purr is rough as sandpaper. His raspy voice in my ear spills a shiver down my spine.

I sneak him a peek. An uncharacteristic hint of color rides his high cheekbones. A furrow digs between his perfectly shaped brows like he’s pissy as fuck (which often happens) or maybe perplexed (which he hardly ever is).

But it’s the icy fire raging in his glacial gaze, rimming his pupils all blown wide, that makes the butterflies in my tummy swoop and dive.

Yowsa.

Of all my guys, I always figured me talking about (maybe) making babies would be a massive turnoff for our snake. Like something I could actually lose him over. He’s made it one hundred percent clear he despises kids even more than he despises cats.

Instead, for some reason, he’s so lurky and possessive tonight he’s making me nervous.

Weird.

“You gonna put me in detention if I disobey, Teach?” I shift my sultry stare to Lucius.

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