Page 142 of Gemini Kings
Because Maxim isn’t the only one of my mates who can fly.
I’ve felt this bone-crushing vise of telekinetic force before, closing around me like a trash compactor. Back when the Goblin King and I were lethal enemies. This time, he isn’t actually trying to crush me like a bug.
Vasili’s throwing every erg of his scary witchcraft into arresting our uncontrolled descent.
Unfortunately… or fortunately?… we’re so close to the ground I’ve only got an eyeblink to wonder if he can actually pull off this crazy stunt. Because two tons of falling dragon (or however much we weigh) isa lotfor one warlock to handle.
Even a warlock as powerful as the Goblin King.
Max collides with the ground with skull-crushing force. A millisecond later, I come crashing down on top of him.
That jolt knocks the wind clean out of me and jars every bone in my body. My skull rings and vibrates like the church bell in a gale-force wind.
My chest heaves.
My lungs scream.
Desperately I struggle to drag a few wisps of oxygen into my achingly empty airway.
“Well,thatwas certainly diverting,” Vasili says coldly, as I heave and retch. “I trust you enjoyed your first date with my queen and my boyfriend, Rasputin. Rest assured there won’t be a second.”
I barely manage to lift my head enough to piece together a blurred glimpse of my snake’s bare feet, pale and bloodless on the snowy ground. I guess he got dressed in a pretty big rush.
Though at least he’s wearing pants.
Which is more than I can say for Max and me.
Because the shock of impact knocked us both out of our shifts, and we’re both bipedal again. Which means we’re both naked.
I’ve got just enough sense left in my addled brain to register that Max is groaning and squirming underneath me. That means he’s still in one piece (for better or worse, damn his headstrong dragon hide, and howdarehe fucking ignore me?) He’s still in one piece, even after crashing harder than I did and then having dragon me land right on top of him.
Darkness is eating away at the edges of my world. That’s tunnel vision closing in, so I’m gonna be lights-out in twenty seconds at best.
But Ronin’s racing across the snowy ground behind the villa to meet us, swearing breathlessly, wearing his leather pants and boots, with an armful of what looks like our clothing clutched to his bare chest.
At least he survived the fire, unscathed but definitely pissed.
That’s good enough for me. More than good enough. A crippling surge of relief washes over me.
“We really gotta do something… about those pissy little shits… from Cybelle and Damien’s old court,” I manage to mumble. Damn, I sound drunk. “This is just… a temporary reprieve.”
Then the night closes in.
I let it swallow me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Neo
That dragon doesn’t look half so fierce when he’s asleep.
Of course, it’s hard to look fierce when you’re naked (practically) although both Ronin and Lucius seem to manage it. God knows Vasili looks terrifying naked or dressed.
But it would be way worse if he wasn’t so darn pretty.
Our new mate Maxim definitely looks very serious, stretched out on his side like a giant cat in our big platform bed, facing me in the soft morning light that seeps through the frosty glass, with his eyebrows scrunched together, one arm flung over his messy head, and half the pillow bunched in his fist.
I’m happy to see the last of his bruises from that street fight healed up, all shifty-swifty, during the night. This dragon runs hot like Ronin, and at some point overnight he rolled away from Ronin’s feverishly hot naked body and snuggled right up against me.
