Page 114 of Gemini Hunted
“That’s what I figure, yeah.” This quiet contribution comes from Ash.
The Seelie Prince is standing on the ledge, as far from Ronin as he can manage (which is typical), with his magnificent pewter wings fully manifested and shimmering with rain. Theyspread from his muscled shoulders to billow gently in the night breeze. He stands like an archangel, sculpted and vast, with the circlet of thorns tattooed around his biceps weeping crimson ink like blood, ready to drive all the devils back to hell.
To my keen dragonish senses, his spiky hair gleams pewter—like a halo—in the rain-washed night.
Ash has just returned from scouting on the wing. This was a fruitless maneuver since our mates are still absent and he has learned nothing. But he too is restless. At least, he is well concealed from hostile eyes by the misty drizzle that shrouds the island tonight. His return has tangibly heightened the tension in this belfry, because he has never liked Ronin.
It is a sentiment of which Ronin, who is no fool even if his telepathy cannot penetrate Fae minds, is well aware.
“Saint Sergius guard us.” I abandon my post in the stairwell to pace, growling and circling the vast bulk of the hanging bell. My accent thickens when I am agitated, so I must concentrate on my English. “They have taken too long. There is trouble. Who threatens our mates!”
Ash stirs and retracts his wings with a sigh. He is currently shirtless and dripping with rain, so the wings fold visibly into his corded back, where they melt to form the impressive angel wing tattoo that spreads across his shoulders. “Let’s not get twitchy on that trigger finger, Max. Just checked on Xhevith, didn’t I?”
“And so?” My dragon lurks in my voice, fully roused and alarmed by any hint of danger to our queen.
“Big green guy’s right where we left him,” Ash says patiently. “Waiting to do his thing just like we planned, all snoozy and fed and quiet. If anything went sideways with Sparrow, he wouldn’t be. That dragon would be taking the roof off.”
Ronin pushes up to sit, careless of the steep drop beside him. He sweeps back his banner of inky hair, loose and swirling magnificently in the wind, with a scowl. “Hate to say it, but the winged wonder’s got a point. Besides, if anything happened toanyof them—any of our mates—I’d bloody well know it. Null or no null.”
“No offense, but I trust Xhevith’s bond with Sparrow more than I trust yourfeelings.” The Seelie Prince sounds very measured, but he looks as though he is seriously considering pushing Ronin and his feelings off the roof.
“Bothers you, doesn’t it?” Ronin swings one shitkicker boot over the abyss and skewers Ash with a piercing stare. “You being the only bloke in this belfry without a mating bite? The only one who can’t sense her. Even Zeph’s dragon has an empathic link to his rider.”
I tense to intervene if I must, but there is no need. Ash stands his ground and says calmly, “Yeah, well, I’m Fae, not shifter. We don’t do mating bites. No offense, Max.”
“None is taken,” I reply.
His quarrel has never been with me, nor mine with him.
He is new to our queen’s harem, he is Zephyr’s official consort, but Ash is not yet fully part of our polycule. He is easy company, easy to live with, easy on the eyes, yet I do not… desire him. Not the way I desire Zara and Vasili and Ronin and Neo and Lucius. Ours is a desire whose intensity grows and deepens steadily with time.
But I am interested and pleased to see that Neo has claimed this Seelie. I suppose that, if Ash fully joins our family, I too will bed him. Especially if my bedding him pleases Zara.
But only if he causes no trouble for Ronin.
If he tries to hurt Ronin, I will slay Ash myself.
Still, this Seelie Prince seems an honorable man, and he has promised Zephyr to make his peace with Ronin. Ashdoes not need to love Ronin, so long as he keeps his distance. Instead, Ash eyes my restless pacing, around and around the bell.
The Seelie’s next remark is meant for me. “Look, this whole setup sucks, don’t I know it. But we gotta wait this thing out. When it comes to getting that Horn back in the Vault, we’re only gonna get one shot.”
My dragon snarls and rages, but I hold my beast in check. I prowl to the ledge and peer over the steeply sloped roofs of the darkened village, shining silver with rain through the mist. Over the midnight sea that laps our shores, the dark spear of the abandoned harbor lighthouse gleams like a bony finger.
I grip the ledge and scowl. “Where is the enemy queen? Cleopatra. Where? When we find her, she will be the first one I kill.”
“Zara won’t fancy that, love,” Ronin says softly. “Yeah, Cleo betrayed her, but they were family once. Our girl has a soft heart. She still loves the bitch. If Cleo gives way on the whole queen bit, if she accepts her loss and walks away? Zara will want us to let her live. Let bygones be bygones. Turn the other cheek, and all that rot.”
While I growl ferociously at this foolish and dangerous notion, Ronin crawls along the ledge until he is directly before me. Then he sits up, puts his back to the drop, and swings a leg around so his legs bracket mine. His hot Leo hands come to rest on my waist.
This entire placement is one I do not mind.
“You and me, Max, we’ll keep our girl safe.” The dark familiar spice of his ambergris fragrance mingles with the scorched brimstone of my dragon and his mating scent. “If Cleo doesn’t toe the line and bend the knee, she’s dog’s meat.”
I growl in agreement, wrap my arms around my mate’s waist to keep him safe from the drop, and bury my face in hisneck to nuzzle his mating scars. Lucius was the first to bite him, and kissing the scars Lucius gave him—while Ronin shudders with pleasure in my arms—makes me feel closer to both of them.
If Lucius wishes it, when this revolution is over and we have won and our precious sovereign is safe, I too will welcome Lucius’ bite—
“Ever met anyone you can’t seduce, Pendragon?” Ash’s dry tone makes us both twitch. “Must be nice to be you.”
