Page 79 of Gemini Wicked

“Many weeks ago being very much the relevant point.” V bares his wicked fangs in a sneer.

For a warlock with shifter genes like him, that’s an intimidation display.

Because normally he’s kinda sensitive about showing those permanent fangs he can’t retract like a pure shifter. Those incisors of his aren’t tiny, and they make him self-conscious as fuck.

Apparently unmoved by all V’s bullying, Zephyr unbends enough to polish off his eggs. Even though he deigned to accept that heap of scrambled eggs and what he disdainfully calls sow only after Ronin himself shoved the plate in front of him with a scowl.

Perched uncomfortably at our table in his dragonscale armor, with his savage face all wary behind his green eyepatch and his pretty pointed ears poking through the spill of his mossy hair, alternating between stretches of uncanny stillness and flashes of sudden movement, twitching at every unexpected sound—that Dark Fae is practically feral.

When Neo fired up the espresso machine a few minutes ago to steam an encore hit of milk for my latte, he practically launched Zephyr into orbit.

I’m afraid to even ask what that psycho did with his cousin’s severed head.

I really hope it’s not buried in Dez’s garden.

Because, like, we eat from there.

Now that fucking axe murderer of a Fae eyes V’s invasive boots on the table. His nostrils flare in annoyance.

“I’ve explained the delay, have I not?” Zephyr’s frowning at the boots, but I know he’s talking to me. “My throne is in mortal peril. While he serves as my regent, Ash is bare of back, without my strength to guard him. Every hour I linger here, his danger grows more acute. If my enemies manage to unseat him, they’ll slaughter him without mercy.”

Sweet Jesus. Ash.

My chest tightens in a straitjacket of worry.

My tummy nosedives in a spiral of dread.

Sure, Zephyr’s been an ass since the literal minute he popped up here, after ghosting me for ten weeks, sporting that lofty and totally unapologetic hi honey I’m home and aren’t you lucky to see me attitude.

I’ll probably be waiting for an apology till the day I grow sea dragon gills like Cleo.

But that asshole just managed to put his royal finger on the part of that whole sitch back in Avalon that’s bugging me most.

“Yeah, I hear you.” Giving Xhev’s friendly muzzle a final rub, I work off my nerves by pacing around the familiar comfort of our sun-splashed great room. There’s not a ton of room between our big Renaissance sofa and Neo’s book-stuffed study nook and that dragon’s muzzle practically nudging the central hearth, but I manage.

“Ash is no slouch, but sounds like he’s gonna need some backup, for real.” I drum my restless fingers against my thigh. “The thing is, like I just explained, right now I can’t leave here.”

Over our breakfast, I filled in the awkward silence by walking Zephyr through this whole epic cluster about me being dethroned and Cleo moving right in on campus to seal the deal and me being the unofficial new head of the witching world resistance.

Zephyr’s been bristling with tension—I mean, like, more than usual—ever since.

“That fucking Cleo. Can’t wait to run into that bitch in the student commons.” Ronin slants me a dark look over his toast and marmalade. “Don’t care if her skinny arse is on the cover of Vogue. She’s a new freshman at this Academy. You know what that means.”

“Purgatory for the new girl?” Vasili gives a wicked snicker. “How delicious.”

Ronin grunts in agreement. My Brit’s sitting as far away from Zephyr as humanly possible, with Neo tucked up against him. Under the table, my bookworm’s big palm is planted on Ronin’s knee for reassurance. That’s such a Neo thing to do—offering comfort—it makes me love the guy even more.

Ronin won’t even look at Zephyr.

But Zephyr can’t stop sneaking peeks at him.

My Fae’s doing it again right now, with his narrow jaw tight and his jade gaze all shadowed.

“Purgatory, huh?” I drift up behind Ronin to sift my fingers through his silky ponytail. Zephyr watches us both like he’s starving. “Guess I should feel bad about that. But I don’t. At least this time it won’t be me getting hazed.”

“And I’ll not stop at a few nasty pranks, will I?” Ronin grins up at me with his topaz eyes narrowed in menace.

“Hazing is a violation of the Academy Codex, Mr. Pendragon,” Lucius says mildly, locking his briefcase with a whispered word. “I’m disappointed, if not surprised, with Mr. Romanov for condoning it. Rest assured, Zara will have her opportunity to prove herself against Ms. Ferrari—in a manner that’s entirely sanctioned and safe—during finals over the next few days.”

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