Chapter Twenty-Five Zara

Chapter Twenty-Five Zar a

"Sweet Jesus, Ash," I mumble into my Light Fae's consuming kiss. "Where've you been ? You scared the living piss out of us."

But I sound more breathless with happiness than cranky.

I've missed this guy, like honest-to-God missed him—for months—and kissing him's a headrush. It really is.

"Sorry 'bout that, princess." He chuckles at my enthusiasm and engulfs my ass in his two big hands to ease me into the fortress of his body.

Ash is the biggest guy in my harem by a long shot, just a massive hunk of male, especially when his muscled frame's all on display in the slate doeskin pants and vest that fit his beefcake body like he's Conan the Destroyer, with his gorgeous pewter angel wings fully extended from colossal shoulders so the feathers caress my arms when I hug him. Laced tight behind that doeskin, and currently nudging me in the belly, is literally the biggest cock I've ever had.

He's so tall he towers over me.

He's so thick my arms barely span the tight column of solid muscle at his waist.

He's so big he could tighten his arms and snap me in two like a matchstick.

But he won't.

Ash would never, ever hurt me.

He's more than the biggest guy in my harem. He's also one of the gentlest. His brawny arms engulf me like I'm his precious treasure. His smooth fair skin smells bracing like ocean air and his kiss tastes tangy like Florida grapefruit .

I surface with a gasp from that monumental kiss and rise high on tiptoe to thread my fingers through his spiky pewter hair (which I can only do because he bends low to allow it). My touch skims over the tips of his pointy ears, that's an erogenous zone on a Fae. His silver eyes lock on mine and crinkle in a smile that creases his rugged face.

He's got some years on him, my Seelie does. But he wears them really well.

"Ash," I breathe.

I'm honestly so relieved and so happy to see him, my eyes blur and overflow with a sudden spill of tears.

Fuck.

"Howdy, princess," he rumbles deep in his chest. "Guess ya missed me, huh?"

"We thought you were stolen by demons or something." I blink fast to keep the tears back, but that just makes them spill over. "I mean, demons . How is that even a thing?"

"Welcome to Avalon, honey." He cups my chin in his big weathered palm and thumbs my tears away. "Demons from this particular legion—I mean Mordred and his brother—they're demi-royalty over here. Just born on the wrong side of the blanket."

"Ash," Zephyr breathes, appearing suddenly at my side. His voice quivers with barely suppressed intensity. "You are never to do that again."

"Well, that's debatable. I'll do what I gotta. Hasn't exactly been a picnic here without ya." Ash opens his arms to gather in our Unseelie mate. "Hiya, Sparrowhawk."

And suddenly it's the three of us again, this Fae ménage I fell for, back when I was lost and drifting in the enchanted magic of an Avalon spring.

Zephyr's wiry arm shoots around my waist and drags me close. Simultaneously, he rises on tiptoe to give our Seelie Prince a hard claiming kiss that makes my pussy weep.

Ash's massive wings close around both of us to enfold us in a dark cocoon of warmth. Suddenly we're enveloped in eiderdown softness.

"Mmmm, that's what I'm talking about," I sigh blissfully into Ash's soft doeskin vest.

"Never again," Zephyr whispers into Ash's kiss, so soft only I can hear it. "You swore never to leave me. I was prepared to summon the very kraken to free you, my heart."

"Kraken, huh?" I turn my face into the silky spill of Zephyr's moss-green hair and breathe in his burnt amber spice. My lips brush his pointy ear in a way that makes him gasp. "First I'm hearing of that."

"You mustn't expect me to spill all my secrets." My Unseelie twists like a cat.

And suddenly his mouth is scorching mine.

The sweet spice of cloves and nutmeg—his distinctive aphrodisiac taste—sweeps over my tongue and floods my senses. This is the first time we've kissed since Zephyr turned back up. Kissing the Dark Fae King is like falling through a wardrobe into the enchanted land of Narnia. The hot slick of his tongue plunders mine with a consuming demand that tightens my nipples and roughens my breath. His tiny fierce incisors prick my lip.

A lick of heat sweeps through me like a bonfire and makes my hair rise and swirl. Under the gusset of my dragonscale catsuit, my cunt softens and opens for him like a night-blooming flower.

"My bride," Zephyr moans into my mouth. One hand closes around the back of my head to deepen our kiss. Pretty soon, he'll be tonguing my tonsils.

I moan into his mouth to encourage him.

"How I've longed for you… these weary weeks," he breathes against my lips between fiery kisses. "Tonight I shall make you mine… so completely… you will never again… doubt me."

Hell to the yeah for that shit.

That's what I'm talking about.

Xhevith's distant bugle rises from the lair, now somewhere below us in the purple twilight, under this balcony suspended high over the faerie sea. The haunting sweetness of lotus drenches the soft night air.

"Oh, God, Zephyr." Head spinning with need, clit aching with hunger, I grip a fistful of supple dragonscale and a fistful of doeskin and pull them both into me.

Both my guys.

Plus Xhev, who's linked up telepathically with his rider, in kinda this daisy-chain effect.

This is the way we're all meant to be .

Almost.

From the open balcony doors behind me, an ominous subterranean growl rolls out. That's Max's dragon, deeply in rut, responding to Xhevith's distant challenge.

"It's okay, Max." I emerge from the warm cocoon of Ash's wings and reach a hand back for my dragon. "I'm right here, big guy."

At least he knows Ash, so there's no need for intros. But Max is rutty as fuck, so he engulfs my hand in his hot grip and pulls me back possessively against his lean frame. While a crescent moon floats like a canoe over the night-dark sea, I wind an arm around Max's narrow waist and tuck a hand into the rear pocket of his ripped jeans to squeeze a palmful of taut dragon ass.

This dragon shifter of mine needs to put on weight, for real.

He's always been lean, he was half-starved growing up, plus he burns a ton of calories shifting and fucking.

Now he rubs his bristly jaw into my neck to scent me and rumbles a grumpy warning at both Fae to keep their distance.

My inner dragon croons to reassure him, and his dragon grumbles back at her. The thing he really needs right now (more than reassurance) is pussy, and ideally a clutch of his dragon eggs filling my uterus.

But for that, he's gonna have to wait.

And then share.

I wonder if I'm gonna have a problem with him tonight.

Ash steps back from all of us with a gentle sigh and lets his wings retract. They fold up against his back and rustle under the cut of his vest that's designed to accommodate. Underneath, I know, those wings will dwindle and melt into the ornate angel's wing tattoo that spreads across his broad shoulders and down the powerful column of his spine.

"For moon's sake," Zephyr murmurs at him with a frown, "where were you?"

"Teaching a Potions class," Ash says dryly. "More or less. Mordred's been plenty busy while you were gone, kid. Haven't seen his pissant brother though."

"That's because I killed him," Zephyr says offhandedly. "Lothian the Proud is no more."

"Huh." Ash grunts. "Well, he was always the lesser of two evils. With Mordred stirring the pot, whole Academy's turning into a hotbed of sedition. Figgered I'd give your students someone else to listen to about the politics for once."

"Ah, the legendary Avalon Academy for Promising Royals of the Faerie Court," Lucius says with interest from the balcony doorway. "Zara tells me you're a professor there."

"Yeah, mostly Potions and Healing Magic." Ash shrugs. "Just the standard Light Fae stuff. I'm the resident Seelie in this joint. I don't do the deportment and the arts shit on the core curriculum."

"Fascinating," Lucius says fervently, studying Ash with keen attention.

At least one of my alphas isn't growling.

My wolf's doing better than Max at handling his rut, but he can't tolerate being very far from me right now either. I reach back to lace my fingers through Lucius' callused grip and draw him outside with me, which pretty much fills the balcony.

"You're Lucius Aries, ain'tcha?" Ash gives him a respectful nod. "I knew your grandpa Laszlo. Long time ago now, but you look a lot like him."

While those two guys of mine swap their hi how are ya's (both reassuringly calm and cordial, clearly interested in each other's academic shit, but these aren't the two I'm worried about), Zephyr herds us all back into the library and closes the glass doors against the encroaching night.

Neo rushes over to say an enthusiastic hello, because he knows Ash and likes him. Needless to say, the feeling's mutual.

Everyone likes Neo. That's literally his bookworm superpower.

While Zephyr deploys this Downton Abbey manual bellpull thingie and orders up dinner for eight (eight of us now in this polycule!) to be schlepped up to the library, Ash ruffles Neo's purple curls and asks him about his studies, which my bookworm is sweetly eager to tell him.

Vasili's not openly nasty the way he easily can be, he's holding his fire in reserve. But he's still aloof as fuck and acerbic as vinegar, because he's Vasili. Ash swats aside V's stinging verbal zingers about his long absence with what looks like good-humored patience.

But Ash knows better than to trust him.

In fact, there's an edgy awareness sparking between those two that has us all twitchy.

But nothing can blunt the edge between Ash and Ronin .

Ash takes one look at Zephyr's first love, the guy who took Zephyr's eye and pushed him off a roof, then pins my Brit with a steely gaze that makes me genuinely afraid to leave the two of them alone and unsupervised in a room together.

Like, ever.

Ash doesn't say much to him (which is unusual all on its own, he's normally a friendly guy). But the way he's eyeing Ronin, I'm seriously afraid he's gonna unsheathe that hunting knife strapped to his corded thigh and bury it between Ronin's shoulder blades the second my warlock's back is turned.

Shit.

As for Ronin, he meets that Seelie's hostile stare with a nasty scowl that bristles with his own aggression. Then my Brit clams up and skulks off to check out the orrery.

That's a silent exchange that worries Lucius and upsets Neo.

Vasili gives Zephyr a venomous look like the whole steaming mess is his fault, then slithers off to join his boyfriend. Those two huddle on the viewing platform among the circling moons and planets, whispering and shooting suspicious looks at any Fae who strays too close.

Max hovers possessively at my side on the ottoman near the cool witchfire, his hand planted firmly on my thigh the whole time, and keeps a wary eye fixed on the balcony doors. Every time Xhevith's distant bellows seep through the glass (that dragon's restless tonight, so he's vocal), Max's slitted pupils narrow and he snarls at the rival dragon.

Long story short?

By the time an orderly queue of Zephyr's Unseelie servants file into the room bearing the covered dishes that contain our dinner, there's so much tension filling this study, the air in here's practically too thick to breathe.

Once Zephyr dismisses the servants with a regal nod, I can barely coax Vasili and Ronin to the big driftwood table where we all gather to eat. Even when I do manage to entice them over, those two warlocks range themselves as far from the two Fae as possible. Neo hurries over and snuggles up tightly against Ronin in a futile attempt to offer comfort.

That arrangement just makes the yawning abyss between my old guys on that side of the table, and my new ones on this side, more painfully obvious .

In addition, that fucked-up dynamic leaves a distracted Lucius and me, along with my very suspicious alpha dragon, to converse with Ash and Zephyr.

"You've implied you're the only Light Fae in Avalon," Lucius says to Ash with keen interest. My wolf's wielding the Fae's bone-handled cutlery with Old World elegance to navigate the rich game fowl, stewed in violet apples and pink pears, that came out of the big domed serving dish onto his plate.

Zephyr served Lucius and Max and me himself, which I know is a pretty major concession from a Fae royal, and Lucius was vocal in his appreciation. But Zephyr won't go anywhere near Vasili's side of the table. And Ash has his big shoulder turned in a way that very pointedly excludes Ronin on the end from the whole convo.

"Yup," Ash says now in response to Lucius, passing him the loaf of nutty bread we're all using to sop up the rich sauce. "I got nabbed by this guy and dragged through the portal to Avalon a long time ago. Ain't that right, Sparrow?"

Ash's eyes crinkle at Zephyr.

"'Tis what we Unseelie do," Zephyr murmurs. Briefly, his gaze flickers to Ronin, who's listening to this with a face like stone. Then, with a sigh, Zephyr turns back to Ash. "What an Unseelie covets for himself, he steals. Besides, as you've reminded me many times, you barely put up a token struggle."

Ash runs a gentle hand over the Dark Fae King's green hair and messes him up in a way no one else would ever dare.

"Yeah, well, like I said," Ash says tolerantly to Lucius, "I got nabbed, kinda like the princess here. But that's water under the bridge now. It's my choice to stay."

I know Ash isn't criticizing me for not staying, for going back to Icarus instead, which is my royal realm the same way Avalon is Zephyr's. Criticizing isn't the way Ash rolls. But next to me, Max stiffens right up. A potent hit of his bristly Russian aggression floods through our mating bond.

Under the table, I lay a hand on my dragon's sinewy thigh and squeeze gently to settle him down.

Shit. He's quivering with rut and territoriality.

Even before his hand closes over mine and wraps my fingers over the straining bulge behind his zipper .

Yowsa.

A pulse of my own mating heat lights up my pussy like a fireplace. Lucius' gaze locks with mine and his eyes glow red.

Still, my headmaster minds his manners. He clears his throat, retracts his fangs, and takes a genteel sip from the pewter goblet that holds his wine.

"I have so many questions about the Seelie race," Lucius says earnestly to Ash. I'm probably the only one who notices the hint of ruddy color (because he's hard and doesn't want anyone to know it) riding his high cheekbones above his goatee. "In the mortal world, they've grown exceedingly rare."

Ash swallows a bite of fowl and gives Lucius an unreadable look. "Not as rare as you think. We're just real good at hiding."

Which suddenly makes me wonder if maybe we've got some kinda Seelie hiding right under our noses at Icarus.

I give Max's thick dick a squeeze through his jeans, then ease my hand out (reluctantly, because he's not the only one at this table who's horny) from under the table to pour us both more wine. His dragon eyes smolder at me in a way that makes me wonder how long it's polite to wait before some of us—or, if I get my way, all of us—climb into Zephyr's big round bed.

"Oh, really?" Lucius leans forward and looks alert. "Your Seelie kin would be welcome at the Icarus Academy and in my domus at Villa Augustus. Truly, they would find no need to hide. You have my word on that as headmaster."

"Old habit." Ash shrugs. "That's how we survived the Sundering, you feel me? We learned to keep our wings under wraps and just fly under the radar."

By now, Lucius is totally intrigued. "But how would I know one if I saw—?"

"Never mind the medieval history lesson, do ." From where he's holding court at the foot of the table, Vasili slices into this comfy convo like a jungle guide with a machete. "Let's not get distracted by shiny objects, darlings. We seem to have found the missing Seelie. Zara claims her crown tomorrow at the Faerie Ball—assuming we trust our Unseelie host. All that's needed now is to ensure this insurrectionist demon stays well out of our way for the next, oh, twenty-fourish hours. Then we fly straight back to Icarus—and make that bitch Cleo Ferrari wish she was never born."

My snake is clearheaded and coldblooded as fuck (same as always).

But I agree with most of that—except that part about abandoning Zephyr and Ash to deal with a possible insurrection alone.

I figure we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Max grunts with agreement for V's plan, then engulfs what looks like half a loaf of bread dripping with juices in a single bite, because that dragon's never met a meal he can't finish.

Seriously, that bite's so big he practically has to unhinge his jaw like a python swallows a rabbit.

"Too right." Ronin gives V's pronouncement an approving nod. "What we should be going on about is this blooming demon. Mordred."

"That does seem relevant," Neo says gently, with an apologetic look at Lucius, who clearly wants to dig into how to find hidden Seelie at Icarus. "We don't even study demons in our curriculum back home. It would definitely help to know something about their strengths and weaknesses."

Zephyr gives Vasili a narrow look, then shifts his gaze to meet Neo's big earnest eyes. "In their realm, they are legion. But a demon's strengths on this plane depend very much on the demon. This one—Mordred—is both helped and hindered by his Unseelie blood."

Neo tucks up against our broody Ronin and gives Zephyr an encouraging nod. "How so?"

"Once he's summoned—unlike a pure demon—no common pentacle can hold him," Zephyr says grimly. "He can appear in dreams and materialize in the flesh. He can disappear at will. He can travel great distances with a thought. He can bear with him any person or object he happens to be holding at the time. Moreover, he wields the elemental witchcraft of his Dark Fae bloodline in full wicked measure. But to enter this plane, he must first be summoned from the demonical realm—a curse which can only be cast at Samhain. Even so, 'tis no easy witchcraft for my rivals here to accomplish. Suffice it to say, I was… surprised… to find him skulking in Avalon a few weeks ago."

"Sounds like a fun guy." I take a hefty swig of the fruity golden wine in my cup to clear out the bad taste all this is leaving in my mouth. "So how do you get rid of him?"

"To the demonical realm," Zephyr says, "he can also be banished. "

Lucius murmurs with respectful interest. Neo pushes up his glasses and his writing hand twitches like he's longing for a notebook.

"Guess that's our play then," I say casually. "Lure him to appear wherever we need him to be. Then just banish him back to the, uh, demonical realm. You know how to do that, right?"

Zephyr hesitates. "In a manner of speaking."

"Okay then." Shit, I'm actually starting to like this idea. "Once he's gone, sounds like he'll be stuck there till Halloween at minimum. By then, we can do whatever we need to do so these rivals of yours don't summon him out again."

" We will do nothing of the kind." Vasili homes in on my choice of pronouns and stings like a hornet. " We are already joining the party at Icarus a full day late. We are missing the start of our finals. The Horn of Ceres isn't going to stay hidden forever, you know. If you want Cleo's airbrushed ass out of your throne, little queen, we need to keep our priorities straight."

"He isn't wrong," Max mutters around another big bite. He's already emptied his plate twice and shows no sign of stopping.

Now he and V exchange a sneaky look across the table that gets my Spidey-senses tingling. I swear, those two are in cahoots over something. Probably some kinda anti-Zephyr campaign, and I'm not gonna put up with it.

But V's right about one thing.

I need to pick my battles.

"Okay, okay, no need to get snarky. We'll get my crown, head for home, find the Horn, pass our finals, and deal with Cleo." I tick off the priorities on my glittery fingers, but it's a growing list. I'm gonna need both hands. "Then we come back here and kick some demon butt. You don't need to come with, Goblin King, if you don't wanna."

"Yeah, some of you kids should probably stay home," Ash says casually. His silver eyes flick over Ronin, lounging disreputably across the table with his plate shoved away and his face all broody behind a curtain of inky hair. "Fewer backs to watch when we're hip-deep in demon shit."

Ronin sweeps his hair back and his tiger eyes turn menacing. Slowly he leans forward. "Hope you're not implying someone here needs to watch our backs like we're all lads in nappies. "

"Naw, not implying that at all," Ash drawls. "But I'd rather focus both eyes on Mordred than keep one eye on you and your loose knife hand, Pendragon."

"My what ?" Ronin pushes back from the table and shoves to his feet with a scowl. "The fuck's your problem with me, Aurelius? You've been giving me the stink-eye all night."

Ash's baritone voice drops multiple octaves to a rumbly bass. "Yeah, well I'm the one who patched up Sparrow after you knifed him in the face. Hell, you might as well have knifed him in the chest. You gutted him that night, Pendragon."

"Ash," Zephyr says tightly, shoulders hunching. "Don't."

Ronin's fists clench at his sides. "Not that I owe you any explanations, Aurelius. But I was defending my sister , you wing-tailed wanker."

"Defending your sister?" Now Zephyr shoots to his feet and incinerates Ronin with an incandescent glare. "Now that is absolute rubbish. I meant her no harm. I never in my life laid a finger on Gwendolyn Pendragon and you know it."

"But you were stealing her!" Ronin's face convulses in a rictus of pain that makes my chest ache. "That's what you do, you just said it yourself. Supposed to be an arranged marriage, so she'd no choice, had she? She never wanted you. You scared the piss out of her. Yet you snuck into our home in the middle of the night to steal my fucking sister for a wedding she didn't want."

"You pure, asinine, unmitigated fool ," Zephyr breathes into the strained silence. "I did not creep into Pendragon Tower at midnight to steal your frail, fearful, uninteresting nitwit of a sister. I came to steal you."

Ronin staggers, literally staggers, back a step and almost falls.

Vasili shoots to his feet to support him, but Ronin waves him wildly off.

My Brit's eyes are riveted on Zephyr with pupils blown wide. "W-what? But I—I thought—"

"For moon's sake," Zephyr hisses. "It was you I wanted. It was always you. The same way it was you and not Gwendolyn I chose for a lover at the Beltane fire. Ronin Kilcannon Pendragon, by my own Unseelie word—for you know I cannot lie!—I was coming to steal you ."

For a sec, I really wonder if Ronin's gonna keel over.

Under his tawny skin, his face goes white as paper. His spreading shock ripples through our bond like an earthquake.

I'm not even sure he's breathing.

Neo stares at this whole awful scene with his mouth open. Lucius presses his fingers to his lips and closes his eyes. Max senses his mate's distress through his bond with Ronin and starts growling, but I grip his arm hard to keep him in his seat. Ash studies Ronin with his brow furrowed in disbelief. Vasili smolders at Zephyr, nostrils flared and eyes venomous, as though he'd like nothing more than to drench this inconvenient ex from Ronin's troubled past in kerosene and light him on fire. (I honestly wouldn't put it past him.)

"Okay… wow… this is a lot," I whisper.

No one even looks at me. The entire table is riveted on Ronin and Zephyr.

Well, shit.

This is one convo that definitely does not need an audience. So I clear my throat and get up too. "Everyone out except Ronin and Zephyr."

When no one budges, I use my queen voice. "I mean it. Everyone out. Except you two. You really need to talk. It's, like, years overdue. Don't come out till you're done."