Page 88 of Gemini Hunted
“Better. How’s this?” Z bares his fangs in a savage grin and lunges directly at me, both blades fully extended, for a killing blow—
“Hey!” The Gemini queen bellows in the resonant rumble of the lightning voice. “Both of you. I saidstop!”
Her bellow ends in a deafening peal of thunder.
A flash of ultraviolet light eradicates my world in a blinding blaze of white.
When my ears stop ringing and my vision clears, the queen of the witching world’s levitating just off the ground between my cuz and me. Through the spots of white floating in my dazzled eyes, her teal curls and schoolgirl skirt whip around her tiny frame like she’s standing in a gale-force hurricane. Her violet eyes are pinwheels of purple fire. Her fingers crackle with lavender sparks.
Hells’ bells. Chick’s hot as fuck when she’s witchy.
Behind her, my furious cousin—who just got knocked over by the aftershock—scrambles to his feet. Also hot as fuck behind the slash of his eyepatch, with his olive skin flushed and his green hair all mussed. Even the tips of his pointed ears quiver with wrath.
Guess I’m glad the queen told him to stop. Otherwise I’d have his moon-blessed steel buried hilt-deep in my gut.
“Boys.”Zara sighs and locks her witchy eyes on Zephyr’s startled face. Her tone’s so quiet I gotta lean forward to hear. “I’m either your queen or I’m not. Which is it?”
Well, shit.
Not gonna lie, this cupcake’s been on my mind since Avalon. And not just cuz she’s sexy as fuck. TBH, this queen’s plunged her royal fist straight through my chest to wrap aroundmy beating heart (figure of speech, not literal). All that sexy’s the least of her pull. Most anyone can manage to be sexy enough, one way or another, to pique my interest for an hour. I mean, yo, sex demon, you feel me?
This witch is something more.
Sure, Zara Selene Gemini is a certified badass. I’ve known that much since the day I watched in secret while she went toe-to-toe with Cousin Z’s psycho mom, the late unlamented Unseelie Queen Maeve. Since the night Zara Gemini reached through a sheet of witchfire with her bare hands to claim Maeve’s crown and become the Unseelie Queen. Girl sealed the deal last night, when I watched her face down a gods-damned sea dragon, fathoms deep, in an aquatic atmosphere where Zara can’t even shift.
This Gemini queen is more than strong. More than fierce. More than stubborn when she gets her Irish up.
Underneath all that badassery, she’s a softie. Cousin Z melted her heart with a kitten, for fuck’s sake. Plus it’s obvi she loves this sack of dicks she has for a polycule. Got loads of room in her heart for all of ’em.
I wonder if she’s maybe got room for one more.
She just protected my sorry ass. Summoned lightning to protect my hide from getting skewered by my enraged cousin.
I don’t get protected.
Even in my world, I’m the freak you need protectionfrom. Too much Fae for my rogue demon dad. Too much monster for his Unseelie old lady. Accident of birth, the kid no one planned for or wanted.
My own blood never thought I was anything worth protecting.
Right now, as Zara Gemini levitates in front of my freaky self—three times her size, potent as fuck, and armed with amagic trident—with zero fear or hesitation, protecting me from my cuz and my own shithead ways, sweet-faced as a schoolgirl?
This is the exact moment I fall in love with the Gemini queen.
This whole sitch is so surprising it tangles even my silver tongue.
“Well?” She alights to the floor between us, taps her toes, and crosses her arms over her curvy chest. Which deepens the lush swell of cleavage under her half-buttoned school blouse. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question. Am I your queen or not?”
My royal cousin still seems to be struggling to close his mouth and douse the witchfire that’s humming through his swords. So I seize my moment andcarpeme somediems.
Ain’t no royal who doesn’t like a little kowtow, true?
I prop the butt of my trident against the floor, lower myself to one knee, and bow my head.
“You’re my queen three times over, baby,” I tell her gruffly, keeping my eyes on her impatiently tapping toes. Somehow the fact that she’s wearing black-and-white schoolgirl saddle shoes just adds to her overall cuteness.
“You’re the Unseelie Queen, and I’m half Unseelie,” I say through the curtain of my own blue hair. “You’re the dragon shifter queen, and I’m a shifter. Plus, uh, you’re the queen of my heart.”
At this, I risk a hopeful upward look.
