“Congratulations again, big brother. For everything.” Mindful of the fragile crystal given my notorious clumsiness, I lift my champagne flute to touch Ash’s in a careful toast.
We’re watching Mordred and Neo delve under the filmy layers of Zara’s wedding skirts to slip off her garter, with Neo managing the voluminous layers of silky tulle while Mordred hunts for the garter. Max hovers protectively over all three of them and glares ferociously with his flaming dragon eyes at any guest who dares venture too close, either to Zara’s exposed thigh or to Neo’s rear while the First Boy’s innocently bent over in what I guess some might consider a provocative way.
I notice in passing that Neo is sporting a half-healed mating bite, a thick double puncture just above his starched collar, that looks like it came from Lucius and his wolf.
Watching Ash watch his mates with that soft tender look making his silver eyes glow like stars, I feel my heart getting all floaty and soft and euphoric in my chest.
I’m still getting used to having a brother again. Especially a super protective one like Ash.
“I appreciate it, Freckles,” Ash says easily in response to my toast. His eyes never leave his mates, but he slings an arm around my shoulders and gives me a side hug.
I loop an arm around his waist in return. We’re both abnormally tall (which is a Seelie tell, if you know it), so hugging him is easy.
“Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?” I ask.
“At least one of each, if I get my druthers. It’s too early to know much, but Zara’s foresight’s getting stronger every day. That’s how we know she’s carrying triplets, and which of us did the honors.”
I nod and smile, because Zara’s already confided in me, even though the fathers’ identities have yet to be made public. One from Lucius, who’s quietly proud and extra tender toward Zara all the time these days. One from Max, who’s visibly bursting with alpha dragon satisfaction that’s really cute to watch. And one from Vasili, who’s gotten incredibly protective and completely spoils Zara with a conveyor belt of gift-wrapped box after gift-wrapped box of ultra-luxe expectant mama presents from Paris.
Ash and I aren’t telepaths, because that’s not Seelie magic. But Ash doesn’t need witchcraft to follow this particular train of thought.
“Yeah, Beautiful’s been a real surprise in the baby daddy department.” My brother’s eyes crease in a whimsical grin. “He’s already converted his own bedroom to a nursery, even though we’re barely pregnant. And now he’s furnishing those digs down to the last pacifier and baby mobile, like, personally. To be honest, I won’t be surprised if he starts changing diapers.”
“Thatissurprising,” I agree, but I can’t suppress a little shiver. To me, Vasili Romanov isn’t a doting expectant dad, and he definitely isn’t my brother-in-law (even if now, legally, he is). He’s the terrifying bully who gave every witch and warlock inthis Academy nightmares for years until Zara came along and, you know, got him to be a little less terrifying.
Ash takes a swig of his champagne, then shakes his head ruefully. “Funny thing is, he’s got six bassinets set up in there. Even though Zara’s one hundred percent sure her stork is only bringing one set of triplets.”
“Three does seem like plenty,” I say cautiously. “Are you disappointed that one isn’t yours?”
He scrubs a hand through his spiky pewter hair. “Nah, they’ll all be mine anyway. Neo and Ronin and me, we’re not shifters, so we don’t have breeding kink and mating ruts and all that jazz. And Mordred figures he’s sterile, like a lot of krakens. So we can just love ’em all up, no matter who gets our princess pregnant.”
My gaze slips past Zara, who’s laughing at Mordred’s teasing as he works the teal garter down her thigh, to the green-haired rider wearing dragonscale and the Dark Fae crown who’s intently watching the proceedings near the bar with a possessive arm wrapped around Ronin’s waist. Those two guys look kinda rumpled, and Zephyr looks dangerously lazy with satisfaction, while Ronin has that heavy-lidded, sleepy-eyed look that everyone at this Academy calls his “just fucked” look.
I wonder if those two had a quickie after they tied the knot. But I’m definitely not going to ask.
“What about Zephyr?” I prod, because Ash omitting the name of his first consortiskinda glaring. “Doesn’t he want a baby?”
“Sure, Sparrow wants one. A biological kid, I mean. Guy needs a genetic heir to be named the next Dark Fae King—or Queen.” Ash shrugs his big shoulders. “I figure we’ll all just keep fucking.”
I blush over the visual (the curse of my ghostly pale redhead complexion) but can’t hold back a giggle. “Well, you’reobviously doing something right.The Witching Inquisitor’s reporting a sharp spike in pregnancies across all the arcane races… as I’m sure you’re tracking. So, you know, thanks for saving the witching world.”
“Gotta thank Zara for that.” Ash gives me his easy grin. “I’m just your average joe who got lucky.”
Seeing Ash so happy makes me happy too.
Maybe now we can all be happy.
Maybe.
I watch my brother’s broad-shouldered frame, so impressive in the slate tux with violet accents Zara’s guys are wearing today. He wends his way through the cheerful throng toward the head table, where Vasili is deigning to accept nibbles of lavender wedding cake from Lucius’ patient fingers.
They each welcome Ash in their own way. Lucius casually rises to greet him as an equal and rubs his cheek against my brother’s to scent him. I don’t think those two are, you know,doing it. (Although I’d literally rather die than ask. They’re my brother and my teacher.) Anyway, they seem more like faculty colleagues than lovers right now, although that can always change.
Especially in Zara’s harem.
Vasili, though… he’s a whole other thing.
That serpent looks at my brother with a territorial smolder so intense it makes me blush all over again. His slim hand snakes out to drag Ash into the chair beside him. Then Vasili leans close to murmur something in Ash’s ear that turns my brother’s face a dull brick-red.