Page 62 of Gemini Hunted
I was honestly hoping Ash and Ronin were maybe getting past that stage.
But those two still swipe at each other (which is something like Problem 912 in our harem’s growing list). While Vasiliblames Zephyr for Zephyr’s agonizing estrangement from Ronin, Ash has always blamed Ronin.
By now, we’re all gathered around the looming shitstorm near Draco’s pillar. Neo scoops the kitten gently from her carrier and trots over with her creamy innocence curled, alert and blinking, in the crook of his arm.
V eyes the kitten and edges away.
Meanwhile, under Mal’s accusing stare, Ash is starting to look kinda hounded.
Zephyr gives the room a sidelong smirk and steps in. “For his long silence, I will take the blame. Ash couldn’t pass beyond the Avalon portal. After all, your prince was my captive… and my concubine. I largely kept him chained to my bed.”
“Whoa.” Draco rolls his shoulders and kneads the back of his neck with a wince. “TMI. Mal’s his kid sister. She doesn’t need to know that shit.”
Hopefully Mal thinks Zephyr’s being facetious.
Since I happen to know Zephyr does have chains in his bedroom and uses them, and since everyone in our polycule knows Ash is a born submissive and consensually submits to Zephyr, I’m pretty sure Zephyr is being literal.
At this point, I figure I better step in before that grouchy mafia bully of Mal’s gets annoyed enough to take another swing at Zephyr.
Because next time, I’m not gonna be as forgiving.
“Lemme see if I got this straight.” I plant myself between the two parties to keep everyone civil. Max growls and bristles at my shoulder like a hostile watchdog. “Draco attacked Zephyr out of some effed-up impulse to protect Mal. Draco must’ve figured all that bad blood between the Dark and the Light Fae, like the genocidal history and all, was playing out. The way Mal thought it was, back when Zephyr took Ash.”
“Can you blame her?” Draco grumbles. “If that shit was voluntary, dude shoulda sent an email or something, for real.”
“You think we got internet bennies in Avalon?” Ash exchanges a fond look with Zephyr. “Heck, that joint isn’t even electrified.”
“The thing is,” I say firmly, before we all get off track again, “Ash is, like, a prisoner of love. He’s with Zephyr—withallof us—totally willingly. He’s part of my harem. That means he’ll be one of my kings.”
Then I play my trump card. “He’s even gonna be a visiting prof here next semester.”
Confronted with this academic newsflash, First Girl Mallory looks torn between disbelief and delight. She tucks a stray copper curl behind her ear and darts her brother an intent look. “Is that true? What subject are you teaching?”
“Yeah, sure. Potions prof. I hear the school needs one.” Ash hitches his big shoulders in a shrug that flexes the biceps under the bloody vine-and-thorns tattoo—Zephyr’s tat—which twines around Ash’s upper arm. “Plus I’ll teach a new elective. Healing Arts for Witches 101. We’ll see how it goes.”
What he means is, we’ll see how it works having him and Zephyr sharing a roof and a bed with the rest of my harem on a full-time basis.
Needless to say, I’m all in on this plan. I’m grateful as fuck to him and Lucius for coming up with it.
And determined as hell to make the plan succeed.
“Look. We finally finished trying to kill each other or what?” Ronin shoves his hands in his pockets and looks darkly at Draco. In turn, the Icelander aims a wary glance at Vasili (who lingers, silent but terrifying, near Ronin).
Finally, Draco jerks his chin in a surly nod.
“Brilliant.” Ronin sounds less than thrilled, but we’re linked, he knows what I’ve just decided we need, and he’sgoing with it. “You lot still want to be our allies in the Dean’s Challenge or not?”
Jae, who’s fully human again with Mallory holding his hand, hisses in a breath. Mal leans into him, exchanges a speaking look with Draco, then opens her mouth.
Before she can get a word out, the rapid patter of galloping paws on stone spins us all toward the door. A massive timber wolf, shaggy with gray and chestnut fur, explodes through the doorway at a dead run. Instantly, Jae Labête lunges forward with a bark of challenge.
But this is a wolf I know.
Even if Jae (who’s running purely on werewolf instinct) apparently doesn’t.
Before we can plunge into yet another mortal combat sitch, the galloping wolf rises on his hind legs. In mid-stride, his fur dwindles, his muzzle flattens, and his torso lengthens. A blinding flash of light makes us all squint.
When my vision clears, a fully human Lucius is running toward us.
