Page 136 of Gemini Hunted
“Hey, guys and gals,” I call down after them. “Do we even know for sure if Zara—?”
“She is,” Sparrow’s gray silk voice murmurs in my ear. “With any luck, our queen has already entered the Vault, along with that moon-cursed kraken.”
My wings snap shut and melt into the tat inked into my back. Heady relief flooding through me, I turn toward my consort with a grin. “Howdy, Sparrowhawk.”
He gives me a fierce smile that shows off his tiny fangs, throws a forceful arm around my neck, and pulls me down for a short savage kiss that makes my bones melt. Xhevith swings his big head over us and chuffs out a snort to say howdy.
That dragon’ll stay put up here, guarding our backs like we planned. No one—and I do meanno one—gets past Xhevith.
Through the haze of yielding warmth that always seeps through me under my guy’s commanding hands, a clamor of excited cries floats up the stairs. That’s Neo’s eager voice greeting the new arrivals, then my kid sis Mal calmly taking charge like the future Seelie Queen she is, punctuated with what sounds like an urgent yip from Lucius’ wolf.
I’m so relieved to hear my sister’s voice, I’m wrecked.
Now we just gotta get to Zara.
ASAP.
I surface from Sparrow’s kiss and run an affectionate hand over my guy’s windblown hair. “Our princess is already in the Vault, huh?” When he jerks his chin in a tight nod, I nod back. “Guess that’s where we gotta get—pretty darn quick. C’mon.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Zara
My dragon queen is finally free.
Free to fight.
Free to rage.
Free to reign.
And man, is that girljuiced.
My wings snap open, which would be a really bad move for a bigger dragon in this confined interior space. But my dragon is still a juvenile, like a bratty teen, which means she’s more than mouthy. She’s also on the smaller side and super agile. We pivot on a wingtip toward the Ceres statue and the gleaming golden crescent lying at the statue’s feet.
In the flickering torchlight, jeweled glyphs spiral around the Horn. Those symbols that represent the twelve witching world houses—they’re glowing and pulsing purple with psi fire. Literally dancing around the Horn’s curving length like worshippers in a ritual.
The artifact sings in my ear like an opera diva, an aria soaring with range and power. A coda powerful enough to bring the house down.
ZARINA SELENE, GEMINI QUEEN.
CLAIM.
YOUR.
THRONE.
Oh, hell to the yeah. After years of dodging and running and fighting my fate, I amsototally down with that plan.
Problem is, I’m clearly not the only witch who’s hearing this shit.
Cleo’s already sprinting for the artifact, tossing the Glaive of Wind aside like a crushed beer can at a kegger while she lunges for the big prize.
My jaws part and I roar like blazes, because that ismyfucking Horn.
My lightning voice guns my engine and brings kilojoules of voltage crackling up my throat. I dive for my rival with forelegs extended and a bolt of purple lightning forking through my fangs.
The bolt slams into the pyramid floor at Cleo’s heels, hard enough to shatter stone. I’m revving up for the kill shot—even though I still (frustratingly) don’t really wanna kill her—when Cleo cries out and whirls an arm overhead.
