Page 124 of Gemini Kings
“Tonight,” he hisses through his canines, eyes all flaming, going full Vlad the Impaler. “I swear to you. Tonight you will accept my mating bite, my Zara.”
“Yeah, about that.” Zara’s tongue traces her kiss-swollen lips, even as her eyes linger on his incisors. “Not so much, big guy. Right now, I’m with Ronin. We gotta agree on that whole no-biting rule, or we’re just not gonna get along. That’s a permanent thing we’d all need to negotiate, which I still haven’t decided I want. And I definitely wanna see that dragon cock in action before I decide whether to take it on myself.”
Her lidded gaze finds mine. Shared need flares between us like a lit match. “Will you fuck him for me, Ronin? I know you want to. Your heat’s spiking. He’s auditioning for a starring role in our alpha lineup. Will you fuck him and let me watch?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lucius
Sweet Neo is fast asleep.
My star pupil has finally fallen heroically in action at his post.
To be precise, he’s slumped over the desk in his study nook. He’s thrown one brawny arm over the desk as though to prevent some adversary from dragging him away by brute force from the treasure trove of textbooks and grimoires he loves so much, all spread open beneath him. His reading glasses lie discarded over his spell book. A vivid wing of magenta hair tumbles over his eyes.
Carefully I stroke those soft curls from his sleeping face.
Still, he doesn’t stir.
My boy is a deep sleeper. But his sleep tonight seems to be particularly deep. Often these days, since we’ve gotten so close, my nearness or even just my scent will wake him.
I bend to pull in a long breath of his own fresh soapy smell. I savor the innocent odors of sage and lavender, mingled with Zara’s vanilla musk and the gamy reek of wolf and the woody butterscotch of Vasili’s mating scent.
To my intense relief, Neo smells no differently than usual, even to my wolf’s keen nose. Nor is he feverish, he’s cool to the touch.
I hardly dare hope this means we’ve dodged a bullet, that my prize pupil isn’t preparing to undergo some physically disruptive and potentially destructive biological transformation as a result of Zara’s impulsive mating bite.
The terrifying truth is this.
It’s far too soon to say.
Although, surely, he will be disappointed if he doesn’t at least go into heat.
As though he’s following my thoughts, Neo sighs deeply in his sleep. Even his sigh sounds heartbroken. I consider bundling him up and carrying him off to bed. But truly, I don’t wish to wake him. He needs his sleep to recharge that formidable brain he’s been taxing with his studies and to process that truckload of shifter biochemicals Zara inoculated him with by biting him.
However, that’s hardly the real reason I don’t want to wake him.
If I gather him into my rapacious arms, this luscious boy to whom I’m so sexually drawn, this young lover with whom I’m so scandalously entangled, he’s going to trigger this damnable mating heat I’m barely holding at bay. Neo still hasn’t given himself to any man but Ronin, I barely managed to resist taking him last night (since we both shared Zara instead), and I have no intention of subjecting my virginal student to the brutal passions and relentless stamina of my wolf when we’re in heat.
On this point, I am utterly adamant.
There’s also the fact that it’s Zara, and not I, who is his alpha now, she’s made that clear. This means that, at the very least, I should be negotiating all this first with her—as a matter of shifter ethics.
Then there’s Vasili, who seems to be poised on the verge of ruining our innocent First Boy. He’s been obsessed with Neo, one way or another, for quite some time. These days, that old death-to-my-enemy obsession seems to have turned enemies-to-lovers. This, too, I must respect. As cautious co-alphas, Vasili and I have been giving each other a great deal of leeway as we navigate our queen’s new harem.
All of this means that, truly, Neo is best left where he lies. His strong young body can easily cope with a little stiffness from a few hours spent sleeping in a chair. No doubt Zara will come tripping home soon with the others to collect him for bed.
Quietly I pad around the darkened great room, adding fuel to the central fire and banking it well for the night, finding a thick afghan and draping it with care over Neo’s broad shoulders. The electrician won’t be able to finish repairing the power line until daybreak, so the house tonight’s going to be frigid.
Before the others return, I’d dearly love to lock myself and my wolf safely into my bedroom. Still, I pause for a long moment to sniff the air.
I’m sniffing for the telltale scent of my own alpha.
I’m sniffing for Vasili.
Of course, this entire house reeks of his scent, of all our scents commingled. But my shifter senses are keen, and I can always sniff him out. (The better to avoid him, my dear.) Matters between us are far too unsettled, given all his probationary drama, our bitter brawling over Maxim, and the tidal wave of hurt and anger and wrenching disappointment that’s still swamping my own battered heart due to his betrayal, for me to give way to him and this infernal heat.
To my surprise, my troublesome alpha’s scent is not at all easy to detect.
