Chapter Five Zara
Chapter Five
Zara
“I don’t wanna freak anyone out,” I announce to my warlocks between bites of Dutch apple pie so crumbly and sweet I moan with every mouthful. “But I think this cottage is… kinda… moving.”
Every single warlock in my harem stops eating and looks freaked out.
We’ve totally demolished the honey-baked ham, a mountain of sweet yams, and two tureens of gravy.
There’s barely a spoonful of green bean casserole left in the bottom of the serving dish.
That big basket of rolls, dripping with golden butter, barely lasted through the meat course.
Now we’re working our way through our second Dutch apple pie.
And we’re moving.
“I didn’t wanna say anything till I was sure,” I mumble around my pie, chased by a swallow of creamy eggnog sprinkled with nutmeg.
“But now I’m sure. I’m more sensitive to motion right now.
Back in the first trimester, it’d probably make me queasy.
But this feels more like a cradle rocking the kids to sleep. ”
Zephyr’s already leapt to his feet, moving alertly to the snow-scoured window to peer into the night.
Not that there’s much to see in this blizzard. Beyond the tiny diamond panes of mullioned glass, it’s total whiteout.
Vasili stares fixedly at his crystal wineglass, whose contents are very subtly sloshing. Max stops wolfing down his third slice of pie with a muttered Russian curse. Lucius gets that inward look he has when he talks to his wolf.
“Bloody hell.” Ronin lowers his fork. “Think you’re right, love. This whole bloomin’ cottage is rocking. Feels a bit like cross-country skiing, doesn’t it?”
“Zang, baby.” Mordred jumps up to join Zephyr at the window. “You tellin’ me this whole crib is skiing?”
“Perhaps ‘tis so. Still, there’s naught to see,” Zephyr reports, good eye pressed to the glass, though he edges aside patiently to make room for Mordred’s large and excited body squeezing in beside him.
“Nor do I spy the hazard lights from the vehicle, which should be visible even through the snow.”
“Yeah, we left ‘em flashing. Supposed to help Neo’s dad find us when he sends out the search party.” That’s Ash, emerging from the kitchen with a dishtowel dangling from his big hand, getting an early start on cleanup duty.
Neo alone seems unfazed by the news. “I told you the house moves. It’s not hurting us. And it’s gonna bring us back when we’re done.”
Right on cue, the gramophone stops playing “Deck the Halls” and shifts to the soothing lullaby strains of “I’ll be Home for Christmas”.
This joint certainly seems stocked with a permanent soundtrack of Christmas tunes. Even though none of us have touched the turntable all night.
I suppose I should feel more alarmed by this whole ambulatory Christmas cottage situation myself. I definitely do appreciate that Theo Mercury and his houseful of guests are gonna be alarmed themselves when we don’t show for the party.
And they’ll be more alarmed when they find our abandoned car.
But then, my warlocks and I are known to be unpredictable. Notorious for it, if I’m being honest. Hopefully our temporary disappearance will be seen as more of the same.
Just the Gemini queen and her Gemini kings off being our unpredictable selves.
My fated mate’s calm confidence in this house’s basic good intentions seeps through our mating bond. Plus my own Valyrian foresight, which typically sings like a glee club at the first hint of danger, has gone totally silent since we got here.
So it’s all good, I guess.
Especially since I can’t see there’s anything much to be done about it.
“Our queen is correct, as usual,” Lucius murmurs.
He’s hitching a ride on my train of thought, because I’m pretty open to my guys these days and rarely bother shielding with them anymore.
(Unless I’m thinking about my Secret Santa duties and the Christmas surprises I have planned, which I very carefully do shield.)
Our headmaster’s thoughtful whiskey gaze shifts to Neo. “Indeed, Neo’s knowledge of the lore surrounding this property appears to be accurate. So far, this house has sheltered, warmed, and nourished us. Hardly sinister behavior.”
“And let’s not forget about those Christmas wishes it’s gonna grant.” Ash leans down to kiss my cheek with a whiff of ocean scent, winks at Neo (which makes him blush), then collects a pile of pie plates for the kitchen.
Ronin scrambles up to help Ash in an easy way I appreciate. Those two didn’t always get along, but these days they’re fuck buddies and sparring partners. I don’t know if they’re in love the way I am with both of them, but they like each other. They get along.
And they’re hella hot when they fuck.
Mordred (who gets along with everyone in the harem these days, now we’re all used to his big personality) manifests a few tentacles and springs into duty, making the cleanup extra quick.
Meanwhile, I lever myself and my full tummy outta my chair and wander over to the Christmas tree.
The red velvet blanket underneath is empty, except for a sprinkle of glitter that’s fallen from the frosted boughs.
Too bad my Secret Santa gifts for all the guys (because no way was I ever gonna limit myself to just one) got left behind in the SUV.
I’m massaging my lower back and leaning in to admire the exquisite Victorian ornaments dangling from the gently swaying branches.
That’s when my snake slithers up behind me.
“Does your back ache, darling?” Vasili murmurs in my ear softly, so we don’t worry the others.
“Yeah, a little. Guess we all got a jolt when the car went into the ditch,” I say wryly, but also softly, not to disturb the conga line of warlocks ferrying dishes into the kitchen.
V’s slim hands close around the base of my spine. Then he starts massaging my lower back in a way that makes me moan.
Zephyr has slipped upstairs again, in a stealthy way I definitely noticed. While Ash is coaxing Neo (who already looks and feels a lot better) to sip another cup of his special Seelie tea.
Max and Lucius are coming and going from the kitchen. But they’re both keeping an eye on me, in their protective alpha ways.
Still, for the moment, V and I are relatively private.
“That was a major overture from Zephyr before dinner,” I point out softly, during this opportune moment while no one else is listening.
“Was it?” V says idly. “I hardly noticed.”
I snort out a chuckle. “Nice try, bad boy. You noticed. You’re crazy in love with him, just like I am. But your pride keeps getting in the way. So you have to be the boss of him, and that’s bruising his pride. Because he’s been, like, ruling the Dark Fae in Avalon his whole radiant life.”
V’s thumbs dig into the knotted muscles along my spine, easing the ache and making me groan with pleasure.
“I don’t disagree,” he says at last, “with your assessment. His Radiance and I each have our share of pride.”
That’s about as encouraging and non-snakelike as V ever gets.
I sigh and melt into his touch. “You wanna know my Christmas wish?”
The whole house seems to hold its breath. The walls lean close to hear. Even the fire’s crackle seems to fall silent.
“Do tell, little queen,” V whispers, cool lips brushing my warm ear to make me shiver. “I’m listening.”
I turn my head to graze the sharp edge of his jaw in a kiss. “Don’t let his overture go to waste. Be good for me tonight, Goblin King.”
His long body undulates against my back like a sidewinder. “I can’t be good. It’s against the rules.”
An ember of heat kindles deep in my core. Fuck, he knows how to turn me on. Plus he knows all these hormones are making me extra horny.
“What rules?” I almost moan. “We make the rules, Goblin King. It’s literally part of the job description for royals.”
The corner of his sexy mouth curls in an evil grin. “I’m Krampus. You said it yourself.”
Oh, now he’s fucking with me, for real.
And he’s gonna give me a Krampus fetish (which I’ve never had before) if he keeps it up.
“Then be bad for me, Krampus,” I whisper into his neck, breathing in a lungful of his yummy caramel and vetiver fragrance. “But be good to Zephyr. Just for tonight. That’s my Christmas wish.”
As if in response, the antique grandfather clock leaning against the wall wheezes and lets out a single sonorous gong. It’s just ringing the half hour between nine and ten p.m.
Still, it makes me jump.
Tickling my hair, Vasili’s warm breath catches.
The Bavarian cuckoo clock over the fireplace whirs in preparation. Together, we watch while the tiny door pops open. The rotund miniature figure of a bearded Santa with a bulging sack of presents whizzes into view, whips around the clock face, and vanishes back into the mechanism.
The gramophone wraps up “I’ll be Home for Christmas” and eases into the stately hush of “Silent Night”.
The mood in the room is shifting.
The air is thickening with the creamy rose of my mating scent, laced with fuck-me pheromones that trigger an instinctive response in all my guys.
V’s scenting too, that rich aroma of musk and birchwood rising from his skin, and he’s the dominant alpha in my harem.
When he’s turned on, we’re all conditioned to respond.
The simmer of arousal stirs and ripples through the bonds that connect me with all the guys.
Having dealt successfully with the ache in my back, V’s arms snake around my waist and ease me back against his boner.
The building heat in my core makes my cunt slick. I rub my thighs together in my yoga pants and snuggle back into my alpha’s arms.
I can wait a little longer for the others to catch up.
But not for long.
The jewel-toned glow from the stained-glass table lamps, which no one’s touched since we got here, grows visibly dimmer.
Now the primary light in the great room twinkles from the tiny gold and silver lights strung around the Christmas tree and the fire’s amber flicker (which seems to burn continuously, even though no one’s fed it).
The guys have finished clearing the table.
The soft clatter of crockery seeps from the kitchen where Ronin and Ash are parking clean dishes in the cupboard.
Zephyr scrambles down from the loft and deigns to lounge on the leather sofa.
Neo wanders over to curl on the bearskin rug at his feet and snuggles affectionately against Zephyr’s legs.
Together, the two of them bask in the fire’s warmth.
I’m relieved to see our bookworm looks a lot better since he’s eaten, with plenty of Ash’s healing tea inside him. The Dark Fae King sifts an idle hand through Neo’s curls, while his narrowed gaze studies the snow-scoured window.
When Lucius bends to blow out the candles, Mordred curls a playful tentacle (still manifested) around Lucius’ ass.
Which makes our headmaster gasp.
Giving Mordred a look of gentle reproach, Lucius edges away to deal with the remaining candles. But even in this dim light, his cheeks are ruddy with emotion.
Leaving his professorial ethics aside, Lucius is definitely not immune to his student’s tentacled charms.
Far from it.
Especially since he’s seen what Mordred and those tentacles he’s rocking do for the rest of us in the sack.
White teeth gleam in the sex demon’s face until his dimples show. He swanks after Lucius, a pair of sinewy purple-black tentacles already reaching for our elusive prof.
“We all know what Mordred wants most for Christmas,” V murmurs in my ear. “Of course, Lucius would be the final holdout against our sex demon’s seduction.”
“Yeah, that’s gonna be something to see.
But don’t change the subject.” I tear my fascinated gaze away from the sight of Mordred purposefully stalking Lucius and turn my back to the glowing miracle of the Christmas tree.
Rising on tiptoe, I wrap my arms around Vasili’s neck. My pregnant belly rests between us.
One of my dragonets is his—a fact he’s incredibly proud of. But I already know he loves all of them. All our kids.
The same way he loves me.
And all our guys.
With the dancing play of firelight glowing in his silver shag of hair and the Christmas lights flickering in his eyes like tiny flames, V looks more like David Bowie in Labyrinth than ever tonight.
Fuck. Me. Sideways.
He’s totally rocking that wicked Krampus energy.
Vasili bends to share a tease of a kiss, tasting like cherry brandy and Dutch apple pie, and breathes into my mouth, “How am I changing the subject, darling?”
“You and Zephyr,” I remind him breathlessly, chasing the kiss. Our tongues slick together and his razor-sharp fangs prick the tender curve of my lower lip. “You’re what I want for Christmas.”
V gives me the kiss, but not the concession I’m jonesing for.
Vasili Romanov’s kisses are always electric. At least for me. A crackling current of energy dances along my skin and makes my ponytail float.
My eyes have drifted closed. But I can sense Neo climbing to his feet and tucking up trustingly against Vasili’s back. When our bookworm’s nice strong arms wrap around both of us, I sigh and open my eyes.
For a sec, I think the deft play of fingers freeing my hair from my ponytail is Neo.
Then, as my cloud of teal curls swirls around our joined bodies in a shower of violet static, the familiar heat of a slim tensile frame closes in behind me.
The scorched scent of burnt amber and sun-baked dragonhide teases my senses.
Possessive hands close around my hips with the commanding grip of a man who’s fully accustomed to bringing even a three-ton dragon to heel.
A frisson of awareness ripples through V’s tall body. His snatched breath, potent with cherry brandy, hisses against my lips.
“Although I’m no telepath, the Fae possess a wickedly keen sense of hearing.” Zephyr’s smooth tenor unspools like a silk ribbon in my ear. “Speaking for myself, I’m allow I am willing to indulge your… Krampus fantasy… for Christmas.”