Page 39 of Gemini Hunted (Dark Witch Academy #5)

Zara

I finally give in to the insidious pull I can’t seem to resist.

I finally kiss the kraken.

That’s when my whole goddamn world shifts sideways.

Mordred’s built like a tank, like he’s indestructible, he’s badass and right now he’s running cool to the touch.

Just like Vasili, my other cold-blooded shifter.

But the midnight-blue beard that grazes my fingers is silky soft.

The demon’s full lips are a shock of carnal heat.

Even when he’s holding himself in check, so I can take the lead.

I swear, this guy has a mouth that would tempt a priest to sin.

With a teasing lick of tongue, I nudge his lips open. A shiver works through the powerful body kneeling at my feet. A deep baritone rumble rises from his broad chest like a purr.

That’s his kraken, I know it. He’s purring a welcome.

My dragon queen croons in reply.

Mordred’s tongue meets mine in a lazy swirl of heat.

The burn of spiced rum and saltwater taffy explodes on my tongue like candy.

Now it’s my turn to moan and lean into the kiss, licking his mouth like a sweet gooey treat that’s melting in the heat.

My free hand drops to his tattooed shoulder to anchor us both.

Under my palm and a canvas of inky skin, his massive deltoids ripple and clench. His big hand lands on my waist to ease me closer.

Incubus. Lucius’ protective warning whispers in my head.

This is the very essence of his power. For any mortal, that demon is forbidden fruit.

In the Christian era, with a kiss like that, his kind could ensnare your soul.

A good Irish Catholic schoolgirl like you would damn your mortal soul to hell for a taste.

Yeah, well, good thing I’m a lapsed Catholic, Lucius. And I’ve never been a nun. I grin against the warm suck of Mordred’s mouth. Pretty lucky thing for all of us. Right, Teach?

My teasing makes Lucius growl.

God, I can feel him lurking at my back, his wolf too close to rising. Then my wolf king pushes right into me. His sinewy leather-clad legs graze my back. The turgid bulge of his swelling dick nudges my head.

Now my dragon croons for both of them. Both my shifters. Except—wait—

Mordred isn’t my shifter.

The kraken is ours, my dragon hums, rich with certainty, like the randy bitch she is. Claim our mate.

Fuck me. Fuck my life. Just fuck.

We’re claiming another mate?

In response, my whole body throbs and vibrates with a drumbeat of yearning.

Guess that’s a big fat yes.

Only if Mordred feels the same, obviously. He’s an incubus. Not exactly known for committed relationships. And assuming my guys agree. Which, given that minefield of unexploded Mordred-Zephyr ordnance, is a lot to assume.

Lucius’ possessive hands grip my shoulders, like he and his rutting wolf are fighting the instinct to drag me away from danger.

Mordred chuckles against my mouth, then nuzzles his bearded face into my throat. He’s kissing me and he’s scenting me and he’s even scenting Lucius, rubbing his jaw into my alpha’s wrist just a little.

The soft rasp of Mordred’s whiskers against my exposed jugular makes me shiver and sway.

I grip his hips for balance. The scaly stretch of fabric over his corded glutes reminds me he’s aquatic, he’s nothing human.

He tastes like a caramel apple on a summertime boardwalk.

He smells like rain and lightning, like the sea after a storm.

His wet blue hair spills over all of us.

I love being pinned between my guys, always have.

(Even if Mordred isn’t actually one of my guys.) So this whole setup floods my core with liquid heat.

Under my uniform skirt and panties, my vag opens like a flower, dripping with nectar.

The sudden scent of cream and roses, spiked with citrus, floods the air.

That’s my mating scent. I mean, lately.

Me walking around smelling like a ripe tangerine is still kinda new.

That scent means I’m fertile.

At the scent (or maybe the thought), Lucius’ growl deepens.

“Take it easy, professor,” the demon rumbles into my neck. “Don’t blow a nut. My kraken and me, we ain’t alpha, we’re cool with sharing. Plus we’re pan. And you’re bi as shit. S’all good, okay?”

Lucius’ hands tighten on my shoulders. I lean into his legs for reassurance. Both giving and receiving.

“If you transpire to be my queen’s choice, truly, I’ll not be the one to oppose you,” Lucius says gruffly.

Saying not one word about his own preferences, but that’s Lucius for you.

“As for Vasili, he claimed you when he bit you, whether that was his intention or not. Since he is this polycule’s dominant alpha, his desires carry a certain weight.

However, I don’t speak for the others. Especially His Radiance. ”

Mordred growls into my neck.

Which makes Lucius sigh. “Now is hardly the moment to press this matter with the Dark Fae King.”

Hearing my alpha invoke Zephyr like a spell, I open my eyes (which I didn’t even realize were closed) and try to pull my head together.

I haven’t explicitly chosen Mordred, even if my dragon thinks we have.

That kiss was just a kiss. But Lucius is right—as usual—about the rest of it.

Zephyr and Mordred have major shit to settle.

Me? I have finals to pass and a revolution to win.

“Yeah, I hear you,” I tell my wolf king with a sigh. “We’ll continue this convo later. All of us. Once we’re safe.”

Whenever that is.

Mordred lifts his head and gives me a smoldery bedroom look with those purple eyes that almost sets my panties on fire.

He’s still gripping that badass trident with one hand.

The other rises to graze my cheek, which is warm and probably flushed.

Against my sensitive skin, his fingers are rough and calloused like a fisherman’s.

With hands like that, I can imagine him hauling a net, straining with the morning’s catch.

Right now, the morning’s catch is me.

But his touch is gentle. Wondering. Just as gentle and sweet as Neo.

Which is the weirdest thing, considering he’s… you know… a demon?

Here’s the thing.

Looking deep into those wicked eyes, I don’t see a cursed being or a damned soul. What I do see is the powerful pull of… longing.

A longing so intense it makes my chest ache.

“Mordred?” I whisper. “Why are you hurting?”

He opens his mouth to say God knows what. Suddenly my heart is thundering in my ears. My whole body leans toward him, hand rising to his face—

“Are you ever coming into this tunnel, or should the rest of us simply go on without you?” Vasili’s waspish tone makes us all jump like a bee sting. “This catacomb is a fucking maze, but McSnicker and her rabid werewolf do seem to have sniffed out the path.”

I blink into Mordred’s startled gaze. Our fragile bubble of intimacy shatters like a thrown glass.

“Catacomb?” Sounding startled, Lucius pivots toward V. His protective hands fall away from my shoulders. “The catacombs on this island were condemned and sealed centuries ago. Surely you don’t mean to suggest Ms. McSnicker has unsealed that hellhole?”

Looking suddenly wary, Mordred plants his trident against the floor and pushes up. Alarmed by Lucius’ ominous tone, I scramble to my feet and spin toward the tunnel.

V and Zephyr stand framed in the entrance together, close enough to touch, with Neo’s eager face peering over the Dark Fae’s shoulder.

“Blood of Christ,” Lucius mutters into the fraught silence. “I asked you a question and I fully intend to have an answer. Did Ms. McSnicker unseal that hellhole?”

“She has,” Neo says happily, while Zephyr glares at Mordred and the Goblin King looks cross because we’ve all kept him waiting. “Mal knew the exact spell to unseal the, uh, hellhole.”

Lucius groans and covers his face in dismay. “Oh, dear.”