Page 88 of Gemini Kings
Obedient as always, Neo hurries up behind her, wraps his arms around her, and buries his gentle face in the side of her neck. “It’s gonna be okay. We need to trust Lucius. C’mon, babe, let’s get you all toasty.”
Clearly still troubled, she toes off her slippers and lets him coax her into bed.
Despite everything, my wolf is fiercely satisfied to see my queen ensconced there in my bed where she belongs. Neo is already climbing in beside her and tucking the blankets around her legs.
Now they’re both curled up in my bed, which is where they both belong. Truly, I yearn for nothing more than to climb in beside them and thoroughly ravage both of them.
Firmly I belt my smoking jacket over my pajamas and thrust my feet into my slippers.
I’m reaching for the candle when Zara lays her small capable hand over mine. I’m relieved to feel her skin warming.
Being tucked up in my bed with her fated mate is already working its own witchcraft.
“Lucius,” she says softly. “I get that you’re mad at us for leaving. I get that I hurt you—both of you.” Her unhappy eyes veer to include Neo. “I never meant to, but I did, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
My heart contracts under her earnest contrition. “My dear, it’s best we discuss this later.”
“I’m just saying you’re our alpha. You’re gonna have to fuck Ronin pretty soon to break his heat.” Her voice goes husky. “And you’re gonna have to fuck me.”
All the blood rushes straight to my cock.
Perhaps, truly, the best thing for her right now is a hard fuck. Biologically speaking, if she won’t accept Maxim, I’m the next best available option to break her heat. The biochemicals in my alpha shifter semen will trigger a strong and satisfying climax.
“Let me just check on the others,” I rasp, my wolf thick and growly in my throat. “And phone the Dean. Quickly. Why don’t the two of you, er, get started?”
Heat or no heat, this queen is not one to be intimidated by a growly alpha (more’s the pity).
Her knowing gaze meets mine and her lush lips tilt in a cocky grin. “Because we’re waiting for you, Lucius. Hurry back.”
Rosy with blushes, Neo tucks his head against hers so his magenta curls tumble forward.
Dear God, my wolf is wild to mate with both of them.
I grip my candle and hurry into the corridor before I change my mind and abandon my duty entirely. As I pull the bedroom door closed behind me to conserve the fire’s warmth, the lamp near the vestibule flickers to life. A cone of saffron light spreads across the great room.
Apparently, Racetrack has successfully concluded her business with the fuse box.
Dez is puttering around the kitchen in her flannel pajamas, whisking what appears to be a generous pot of hot chocolate for the entire household over the reluctant gas burner. God willing, she and Racetrack will suffer nothing worse from this imbroglio than an interrupted night’s sleep.
I pad over to the glass doors and peer anxiously into the heavens, but the dragon is not currently visible. I can conceive of no way to draw his attention short of climbing to the roof and signaling him with a flashlight. Perhaps he and his thwarted libido are better off out there where they currently reside.
This is particularly the case with another alpha preparing to break his queen’s mating heat.
Leaving the dragon to his own solitary if thoroughly disruptive devices, I climb the stairs to the second floor with heavy steps.
I’m deeply concerned about Ronin, and deeply aware of my neglected duty to him as his alpha (not to mention the fact that I’m desperately in love with him, which is an emotion distinctly related to, but still separate from, my consuming lust to fuck him).
But my unresolved issues at present lie largely with Vasili.
Until I can learn to trust him again, until I know I can rely upon him to be my responsible colleague, my mature alpha, my trustworthy ally, and my steadfast partner in keeping Zara safe (including from her own reckless instincts), I simply cannot accept him back as my lover.
Even if our estrangement is destroying me. Even if our estrangement is risking the happiness of our queen’s entire harem.
Trust is a hard line for me.
Without trust, truly, we have nothing.
In Zara’s pretty bedroom with its painted frescoes and curtained bed—a room which has also been my own bedroom in recent weeks—I find the situation precisely as she’s described.
