Page 152 of Gemini Hunted
Mordred tromps in grinning from the courtyard pool, dripping from his sunrise swim.
Neo wheedles fresh coffee from our temperamental espresso machine while Ash helps Dez and RT plate the waffles. Zephyr slips out quietly to check on Xhevith, who needs a proper dragonlair established somewhere around here once the dust settles.
Add that task to the already rapidly expanding list of my queenly duties, right after naming our kitten, getting someshuteye, addressing my new subjects in a real press conference and officially announcing my engagement to all eight of my kings, then shopping for wedding rings on the Italian mainland with my warlocks.
Meanwhile, Lucius wraps up a murmured phone call in Hungarian with his aristocratic grandsire on the landline, then hurries over to shift our limp and sleeping kitten from my lap to his nice comfy shoulder and squire me to the table for breakfast.
Pretty drowsy and sluggish (but also hungry) now that the excitement’s behind us—I mean, you know, for now—I’m more than happy to reach for Lucius’ outstretched hand, relying on his strength to pull me to my feet.
I’m barely standing when Lucius utters an exclamation of shock and falls back.
“What?” Naturally, I jump like a cat and twist around to look behind me, with my heart pounding and my inner dragon (who was snoozing) chirping with annoyance. “I mean, literally, what now? You’re white as milk, Lucius.”
My headmaster doesn’t answer right away. He’s staring at me like he’s riveted. Or more specifically, he’s staring at my hands, poking from the oversized sleeves of Neo’s Academy hoodie which I’ve bundled into for comfort.
I follow his gaze, push back my sleeves, and discover something adorning my own body that’s totally new. A stipple of quicksilver pigmentation along the back of my hands and twining around my wrists. The markings look sort of like a henna tattoo, only silver. They’re really pretty.
But not something I put there.
“What the actual fuck, Lucius?” I extend both arms so we can all stare.
“Forgive me, my dear,” my headmaster says swiftly, while the rest of my guys rush over to cluster protectively around me.Even a startled Vasili zips from the bathroom (levitating) and darts to my side, giving his alpha free rein.
“There’s no cause for alarm,” Lucius tells the room, clearly chagrined for scaring us.
“I will be the judge of that.” Max’s nostrils flare and his voice drops to a dragonish rumble. “What threatens my mate!”
“Nothing threatens her.” Lucius’ own voice trembles with barely suppressed emotion. His face is flushed and his eyes glitter with powerful sentiment. “Those markings on her hands are a well-known sign, a very early one, among wolf shifters. It’s just that… with so many mates in the polycule, I simply never dared to hope…”
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, Teach.” Alarm replaced by a growing prickle of curiosity, I tilt my head and give my headmaster a wry look. “We’re all definitely listening.”
“Zara—my dear girl—I can scarcely believe—” Lucius’ voice splinters and breaks. He clasps my hands in his string warm grip. His incredulous gaze, shining with joy, clings to mine. “You’re pregnant. And at least one of the offspring you carry is mine.”
Epilogue
Mallory
Zara’s wedding is the celebrity event of the year.
Although I’m always uncomfortable attracting attention to myself, I’m thrilled to be a bridesmaid. And I’m so incredibly happy for my best friend, who’s definitely earned her happily ever after.
It just sucks that both my guys have to miss it.
Jae’s home in New Orleans, interring the zombie wolf king properly in consecrated ground in St. Louis Cemetery. Draco very emphatically didn’t want to leave me. But right now, very clearly, Jae needs him more, so I convinced Draco to go with.
Besides, I’m safe here at Icarus.
Especially with my big brother Ash now living here full-time, getting settled in at Icarus as Potions prof for the fall semester under the new faculty exchange program Zephyr and the Dean set up with the Avalon Academy.
Also, my awful new headmaster at Villa Hadrian has packed his gloomy vintage portmanteau and decamped for summer break. So mydomushas reverted, if not to the status quo, at least to someplace I can tolerate while I take summer school classes in the Honors track with Mistress Aggie. We’ve disarmed the mantraps while our headmaster’s away,and resumed our time-honored house tradition of hosting unsanctioned keggers in the dungeon.
The royal palace for the witching world is a gloomy centuries-old palazzo that’s slowly sinking into the Venetian Sea. No surprise Zara and her guys have chosen to get married in their owndomusright here on Icarus Island.
Despite the intimate small group setting in the Roman-style courtyard under the blaze of Mediterranean sun in a cloudless summer sky, it’s the wedding of the century in the witching world. Every invite is hotly coveted. Today, as the whole world knows, we’re celebrating more than Zara’s wedding to all eight of her Gemini kings.
Zara and her polycule are not only crowned and mated.
They’re pregnant.
