Chapter Thirty Ash

So you probably wanna know what went down in our bed after that Romanov snake (a guy I still don't totally trust) laid a liplock on Zephyr.

Well, sorry to bust anyone's bubble, but that story's gonna have to wait. The eight of us in this polycule can't just fuck all the time.

Not when we got a ball to attend and a demon to trap.

I roll out of the sack at first light. Light Fae like me, we're early risers. We like to say howdy to the sun. So I'm the first one up.

Plus I didn't just spend half the night fucking like Sparrow and those shifters in rut with our fertile princess.

Yeah, I mighta joined the royal harem.

But I'm a wait-and-see kinda guy.

So I still haven't dipped my wick in one of these full group encounters. Dick's still dry, and gonna stay that way till I trust these guys.

Same way I trust Sparrow and the princess.

While I lace up my britches and pull my vest over my shoulders in the early morning hush, the first burning sliver of morning sun peeks over the horizon to paint the sea red. Sure hope that's not some kinda omen, considering the shindig tonight. A finger of sunlight stretches through the ripply volcanic glass to graze the tangle of naked bodies piled in our bed.

Our princess, she's right in the middle of that puppy pile.

Her curvy little body's barely even visible under the possessive sprawl of the wolf and the dragon and my Sparrow. (Sure, Sparrow's not fucking her other guys yet—only her—but I don't need a crystal ball to know that shit's coming.) Zara's teal curls and his green mane spill together like a color explosion across that rumpled pillow they're sharing .

That's a sight that makes my chest ache, for real. My guy deserves to be happy. With her, I figure he's got a real shot.

Zara deserves to be happy too. Not just be queen popping out kids for the kingdom.

She deserves actual happiness.

Assuming we can figure out how to banish that fucker Mordred back to the demonical realm before he causes any more trouble.

Speaking of trouble.

That snake Vasili's spread over the sleep heap like a python—or maybe a big saltwater croc—drowsing in the morning sun. He's got one arm thrown over Zara's hips (no surprise after he fucked her into a goddamn sex coma last night) and one hand wrapped around Sparrow's ankle like a manacle.

I'm kinda surprised Sparrowhawk's willing to tolerate the snake being that close to him. But, I mean, surprised not surprised. Lotta sexual tension crackling under the surface in this new polycule we just hooked up with.

Long story short? Those two guys—Sparrow and the snake—are just gonna have to fuck it out.

While I toe into my boots and buckle my knife around my thigh, my gaze shifts to him .

Pendragon.

That guy I've been swearing for years I'd make pay in blood for every ounce of pain and tears and heartbreak he wrung outta my Sparrow.

Now Sparrow wants me to hold my fire? Wants me to try and make nice with his asshole ex? Even though he knows I'll never forgive the guy for what went down the night Sparrow lost his eye.

Geez, what a monumental fuckup.

Right now, Pendragon's sleeping face down at the edge of the heap, with the wolf's arm wrapped possessively around his waist and his face hidden in the snake's neck. I'm kinda amazed the snake—I mean Vasili, gotta get used to using his name—lets a rabid dog like Ronin Pendragon anywhere inside his paranoid guard. Vasili's throat has literally been exposed to the guy's teeth all night.

Pretty safe bet those two are more than just allies or even lovers.

They're close.

Real close .

Better keep an eye on him… that pissy Russian alpha whose tongue stings like a hornet… if I need to take his boyfriend down.

Under a blanket of inky hair, Ronin's broad shoulders are all nakey, that traffic-stopping ass is on full display…

And his back's exposed.

My skin sings with the drive to bury my knife in my enemy's back.

My shoulders ripple and my wings emerge, feathers mantling and ready for combat.

But I tamp that shit right down.

My back tingles with warmth and witchcraft. But my wings melt reluctantly back into my tattooed skin.

Promised Sparrow I wouldn't off the fucker in his sleep, didn't I? Not to mention the princess won't be any too keen if I knife her boy toy warlock the way I wanna.

Doesn't change the fact Pendragon slept on one side of the heap and I slept on the other last night. Bed still wasn't big enough for the two of us.

I'm turning away from the pile, all bitter and grumpy as fuck, when my eye falls on Neo. He's half-smothered in sleeping dragon, but his bleary green eyes blink warily up at me.

He's watching me watch Pendragon.

Without his glasses, the Mercury kid looks even younger. Shoot, they're all kids compared to me. I'm robbing the cradle with this crew, for real. Except maybe for the prof—Lucius Aries—they're all way too young for me. Even Sparrow used to be my student.

Knew what I was getting into, though, didn't I? Didn't stop me from falling toes over teakettle for Zara.

"Hiya, kid," I say softly to Neo, so I don't wake anyone else. "Don't get up."

"Don't go," Neo whispers.

Well, hell. The tangled knot of anger and worry in my heart softens right up.

This kid's blinking up at me, all drowsy and sweet as fuck, through a swath of the sleeping dragon's blond hair.

Carefully I stroke back Maxim Rasputin's hair, soft as butter. The scent of brimstone rises from the dragon's suntanned skin and tickles my nose. First time I've touched that dragon shifter. Under my gentle touch, he mutters something fretful—sounds like Russian—in his sleep .

Clearly, this guy's had a hard life. He's all skin pulled over sinew, like he missed a few meals, and his long back's a tortured canvas of old scars that make my gut clench. I've noticed the way he tries to hide the damage, like it's somehow his fault some asshole flogged the shit outta him, not once but a bunch of times.

So I steer clear of his back, and he doesn't pull away from my careful touch.

Even though shifters are notoriously twitchy, this one tolerates me stroking his hair without waking.

For some crazy reason, that little thing makes me happy.

Although this dragon's still in la la land, I get a glimpse of how it could be. Me hooking up with this harem.

"Not goin' far," I breathe, turning away from Maxim and cupping Neo's square jaw. I look down into the kid's open, trusting face and rub my thumb over the soft curve of his lower lip. "I got a thing I do at sunrise. Plus I gotta rustle up some kinda breakfast for you all."

"I mean it, Ash," Neo mumbles, ducking his curly head to nuzzle my palm. "You need to come right back, okay? Zara needs you. We all do."

Well, hell.

"I'm comin' back." I sigh, because I know it's true. "I'm in this thing up to my eyeballs now, ain't I?"

"You promise?" His worried eyes search my face.

"Yeah. I promise." I lean in to kiss his furrowed brow, and he leans trustingly into my touch. "Go back to sleep, kid."

He settles back with a sweet sigh that, I swear, busts my old guy ticker wide open in my chest. The kid's eyes drift closed.

All messed up in my noggin from my interactions with those two, I finally duck outta there and schlep downstairs to give the kitchen crew their marching orders. Sparrow's got a lotta servants these days, on account of him being the only ruling royal. But today's a holiday. Summer solstice. Lotta folks are off getting ready for the Faerie Ball tonight.

Sparrow's made this one—the shindig tonight when he crowns his queen—a command appearance.

So we only got a skeleton crew on kitchen duty. The unlucky few that drew the short straw and couldn't get time off. They ain't exactly thrilled about cooking for eight instead of two. But I'm the king's consort, so no one gives me any lip.

Then I hightail it to the tower roof for my sun salutations.

Yeah, I do yoga. It's a Seelie thing.

Who do you think the mortals learned it from?

Being up there in the morning air, watching the sun ease fully into view over the sea while I do my forward bends and downward dogs? With my boots and vest shucked off and my wings out to feel the wind in my feathers? My soothing morning ritual helps me regain some balance.

Maybe I can tolerate sharing a bed and a table and a roof with Ronin Pendragon.

Maybe.

If he makes Sparrow happy.

But if he hurts Sparrow again—in any way—I'm gonna go Game of Thrones on that Pendragon's ass. I'll castrate that fucker and feed his balls to Xhevith.

On that happy little note, I finish my sun salute, then do my breath-with-sound thing while I'm hunkered down in child pose (not so easy anymore on the old knees, but I get through it).

Now that I've got my priorities straight and my shit together, I leg it back to the bedroom. The yeasty scent of baking bread and the greasy sizzle of cave eggs greet me on the stairs, and my gut gives an appreciative rumble. At least the sulky kitchen crew's doing their thing.

In our bedroom, the princess and her guys are waking up.

First thing I see is Vasili Romanov, stretched like a cat on the ledge in the morning sun, naked and unconcerned, with some kinda sparkly gel beauty mask draped over his eyes.

"Is that you, Ash?" he murmurs without stirring. "You're causing a dreadful draft. Close the door, darling, do. "

The sight of him naked's bad enough for my composure. Him giving me orders to boot? When he's that good at giving them, and Goddess knows, I love to take 'em.

It's early in the day to get a hard-on.

But fuck if he hasn't managed to give me one.

"Sorry about that, beautiful." I dredge up a snort and nudge the door shut with my foot. "You might wanna put something on. I mean, something more than an eye mask. Breakfast'll be up in a few ticks. "

"Hmmm." Without lifting his eye mask, Romanov twitches a fold of the sheet indifferently over his pretty dick. Even that much, he's obviously just doing to humor me.

If I wait for him to thank me for organizing his breakfast, I'll be standing here till the cows come home. And we don't have cows in Avalon.

With an effort, I manage to look away.

Next my gaze shifts to him.

Pendragon.

He's still shirtless but standing, sunlight dancing over all that golden skin and the flaming dragon tattoo inked in black across his chest. He's pulling his leather pants over his lean hips while Sparrow—who's curled next to Zara in this lazily contented way—watches his ex suit up with that smoldery look my guy gets when he's horny.

But Pendragon is watching me.

Not gonna lie. That Brit's a looker. Sexy as heck. Another time and place, I'd be all over a guy like him.

Here, now, with our history? It's all I can manage to give Pendragon a short nod.

His tiger eyes narrow. But his chin dips, microscopically, in a stiff howdy-doody.

Through the open door behind him, I catch a glimpse of Lucius, already fully dressed, browsing through our rare Fae book collection in the den. That wolf's rapt with fascination. I'm guessing we could leave him in there all day and he'd be happy.

Behind me, the trickle of the gravity shower floats from the john. I'm guessing that's where Maxim is. He and that forked dragon dick of his got a lotta action last night.

But Zara's the star of this show.

She's sitting up naked against a heap of pillows, stroking Neo's tousled curls as the kid lies blissfully with his head in her lap, and rubbing the sleep outta her pretty turquoise eyes.

Despite every distraction, my ticker gives a ping and a hard thump at the sight of her.

Damn. Just damn.

Zara Gemini. Queen of the witching world.

Fucked six ways to Sunday last night. And she still glows with vitality and power like a goddess .

She looks so comfy and trusting and right in my bed… our bed… the bed we all share now, I guess. I sure fell toes over nose for that gal. Haven't seen her for months and I'm still under her spell.

"Hiya, princess." I lean over Sparrow, run a hand over his messy green hair to greet him, then wrap my big hand around Zara's jaw and pull her in for a deep slow kiss.

She sighs my name and melts right into me.

She's like a sleepy punk-rock version of Marilyn Monroe with her lush lips and her dreamy eyes and her pretty titties with their silver rings. My palms itch to explore every inch of her. Relearn what makes her shiver and gasp and moan. The way Sparrow and me learned her together last spring.

But if I get into all that now, I'm never gonna get outta this bed. We got shit to do today.

And if I fuck her now the way I want, I won't be able to keep my eye on Pendragon.

So I keep my hands off her tits and my dick in my pants. "How'd you sleep, honey?"

"Dreams," Zara mumbles against my lips. She still tastes tart and sweet like moon wine, but her voice is fretful. "Dreams of… drowning. And, uh, fucking."

I pull back to eye her slightly anxious face.

"Which one of us?" Vasili smirks behind his eye mask. "Or was it more than one?"

Her teal brows draw together. " Not one of you. That's the thing." She hesitates. "Think I was fucking the shit out of someone with, uh, tentacles."

I'm still leaning over the bed, so I can feel the way Sparrow stiffens right up.

I ease back so he can sit up the way he wants. He adjusts his eyepatch with a pained grimace (he shouldn't sleep wearing the thing, for real) and looks for his swords, still propped against the wall where he left his gear last night.

"Tentacles, huh?" I keep my tone easy, because there's no reason to get anyone all worked up before we gotta. "Like an alien or something?"

"No, something more… aquatic." Frowning, Zara bundles her hair in a messy twist. A few colorful curls spill around her troubled face. "Like a kraken? "

Yikes.

I sidle back so Sparrow can scramble outta the sack. I toss him his dragonscale armor, which he immediately starts wrestling his way into. "Easy, Sparrowhawk. All these shifters in rut and these Mogadon pheromones smelling up the joint? Could be just a sex dream."

"You know 'tis not," my guy says tightly, the way I knew he would. "Our return last night from the mortal realm was hardly subtle. All of Avalon knows I crown my queen tonight. And by now, he's very likely aware that his brother is dead. It's him. "

A frisson of tension ripples through the room. Romanov slips off his eye mask and sits up. Pendragon stops rummaging around for a clean shirt and looks dangerous.

Next door, the gravity shower shuts off. Simultaneously, Lucius Aries appears in the library doorway with an open book in hand.

"Him." Zara's head tilts to look up at us. "You wanna elaborate on that, Your Radiance?"

Zephyr drags his armor over his legs with an irritated hiss. "I mean Mordred, of course. Like any infernal being, the half-demon commands dreams. In his demonic form, he is kraken."

I wait through a fraught silence while they all absorb this newsflash. Vasili's pale eyes narrow, and Ronin tosses the guy some pants with a soft curse.

"A kraken," Lucius murmurs. His face kindles with a scholar's keen interest. "How remarkable. A mythical monster brought to the surface… as it were."

Zara draws her knees to her chest and perches her cute chin on top. "Uh, well, the thing is, it wasn't exactly a hostile dream. I mean, I don't know if it was him , obviously. And it's not like I have a tentacle fetish or anything, uh, normally."

A revealing wash of color rises in her face. "But that dream guy was sexy as fuck."

Uh oh.

"That's him all right." I heave a sigh and exchange a grim look with Sparrow, who's still fighting furiously into his armor. "His Pops is an incubus. So Mordred is too. Him sexing you up in your sleep? That's just his way of checking you out."

Maxim Rasputin bursts out of the john, dripping wet and growling, with his dragon eyes flaming and a towel wrapped carelessly around his hips. "Who threatens my mate!"

"Oh, dear fuck." Vasili rolls his eyes over the drama. He's sliding his long legs into a pair of hot pink lace panties that I think belong to Zara. (Apparently those two swap lingerie, but I'm not gonna get distracted here.)

"Take it easy, big guy," Zara says patiently to Max. "We're just talking about the whole demon thing. Go dry off and get some clothes on, okay? We got some planning to do."

Maxim gives Zephyr and me a suspicious look. I slouch down and try my damnedest to look harmless despite my size. The dragon grunts and ducks back into the head, followed by the vigorous sound of toweling.

"So he knows I'm here," Zara announces to the room. "So he's interested. We can use that."

"My dear, how precisely do you mean?" Drawn to our girl like a magnet, looking cautious but intrigued and still clutching his book, Lucius comes in to loom over the bed.

"Indeed, darling." Calmly Vasili buttons his sparkly jeans over the hot pink lace that sheathes his junk. " Do tell."

"I mean," Zara says in her steely queen voice, "we use his interest in me to lure him in. Then we trap him. Zephyr already said he knows how to banish him. That means we just need to catch him."

"Hmmm." That snake of hers looks thoughtful. He exchanges a silent glance with Pendragon, who just looks dangerous.

Neo parks his glasses on his nose, then tucks up next to her and takes her hand. The kid looks worried but trusting.

"'Tis easier said than done, believe me. Else I would have banished the kraken already." Sparrow zips up his dragonscale with a single fierce pull and reaches impatiently for his swords.

I pass him his gear and figure I better grab mine before he's on the wing without me.

Curtly my guy warns, "Mordred thrives on unpredictability. His dead brother pursued me like a stalker. That obsession gave me the advantage. But Mordred is far more wary and clever. Thus, he has kept his distance."

Zara leans forward, stubborn as heck. "Well, it's a safe bet he shows up at the ball tonight, right? In, like, his Fae form? We can predict that much."

"Yeah, if you wanna call that safe," I mutter.

The loose curls start floating around our girl's shoulders and her eyes light up with ultraviolet fire.

"So we trap that fucker in front of the entire Unseelie population. We flush out his allies and snuff out this whole insurrection against Zephyr's reign on the spot. Once and for all. We do it at the ball, where he knows I'm gonna be, where he knows he'll have his audience."

"Geez Louise, princess," I breathe. "For someone who doesn't even know the guy, that's one gutsy call you're making."

Her eyes lock on mine. "Yep."

She even pops the P.

The balls on this girl.

Just in case I needed one more reminder why I fell for her.

Xhevith's trumpeting bellow floats through the open window. Sure, he's projecting what he picks up empathically from Sparrow.

But it's clear as day she's got that dragon wrapped around her glittery finger.

My girl's determined gaze ricochets from face to face, every one of us circling her gravitational pull like planets around a sun. Her incandescent stare encompasses all of us and pulls us in. She makes us all part of the half-baked plan this wild princess of ours just cooked up before she's even had her breakfast.

Even Maxim, who's just hauled ass back in here, now wearing his jeans but still looking kinda damp, doesn't say anything beyond a shifty growl of protest and a suspicious look out the window toward Xhev's lair.

"There's no time to fuck around. We gotta take care of this shit tonight," our girl proclaims like the queen she is. "I mean it. So we better get started. Because tomorrow we've got finals back at Icarus. That Horn of Ceres won't wait. And neither will Cleo."