Chapter Ten Lucius #3
“Midwinter solstice wine. Just a drop, for its… restorative qualities. Which I found I rather needed after last night.” Eyeing all of us in the bed, Zephyr casually eases down the zipper of his ski suit.
“I crated a few celebratory bottles from the royal cellar when we packed our baggage. ‘Tis a gift from Avalon for the senator’s Christmas dinner.”
All the while, Zara is clearly torn between her avid interest in the byplay between these two recent frenemies and her admiration for the gorgeous wrappings and enormous bow on her gift.
Finally, her curiosity gets the best of her. Carefully, she lifts the package. “This is big, but it’s not heavy. I honestly have no idea what it can be.”
“Let’s plan to open our Secret Santa gifts after breakfast,” I suggest. “Otherwise poor Maxim will starve to death. But perhaps, since His Radiance has gone to the trouble of fetching it, Zara should open this one gift now.”
“That works for me. As soon as the others get back,” she promises, with a happy wiggle. “I can’t wait to find out what you made for me, Zephyr.”
By the time they’ve all crowded in—all our mates—bearing steaming mugs of coffee and a heaping plate of frosted Christmas cookies to share, our sweet girl is breathless with curiosity and anticipation.
“Hey, good news. I was able to get Dad on the line,” Neo announces, brandishing his cell phone triumphantly.
“He wasn’t even worried. I guess he got a text somehow last night—from this phone, if you can believe it—saying we were delayed and we’d be there in the morning.
Anyway, he’s coming now with the pickup and Racetrack—Dez too, I guess—to pull us out of the ditch. ”
“Thank goodness,” I murmur, quietly relieved to hear both girls’ safety confirmed. Racetrack and Desdemona aren’t part of our polycule, but they’re beloved members of our Academy household and Zara’s royal court all the same.
“Uh-huh.” Neo gives me a happy nod. “The girls got in yesterday, they came from New England with Racetrack’s moms. Right before the blizzard hit.”
“Sounds like I better hurry up and open this, before the cavalry shows up, huh?” Zara grins at all of us, then rips the paper from her gift with childlike enthusiasm.
The pale witchwood square of the box beneath yields no clue to its contents. But when she lifts the lid, she voices a soft cry of recognition and delight.
We all lean close to peer in.
Of course, I’ve already seen Zephyr’s gift to her, but its visual and magical impact on this second viewing is undiminished. Commandeering the enchanted forge of Avalon, heated and fueled by dragonfire, the Dark Fae King has forged a crown fit for a queen.
One queen.
The queen who is both his Unseelie Queen and the Gemini Queen of the witching world.
Our queen.
Zara’s new crown is actually two crowns, both ancient artifacts, soldered and forged into one.
The coronet in her lap comprises the delicate diamond and emerald scrollwork of the witching world tiara she inherited from Messalina Aquarius, twined through the razor-sharp silver spikes of the Unseelie crown.
Experienced singly, each of Zara’s magical crowns is powerful enough to make my wolf rise and my skin tingle.
Experienced in unison, this newly forged supercrown crackles and hums with enough raw voltage to bring the world to its knees.
Gingerly, almost afraid to touch the artifact, I lift the crown—light as air and vibrating with power—from Zara’s reverent fingers and place it gently upon her tumbled curls.
The talisman settles over her smooth brow.
Gemini emeralds bring out the green undertones in her hair.
Her wide eyes glow violet with psi fire.
Tiny purple sparks dance along her fingertips.
Together, the other warlocks and I inhale a collective breath of admiration. The entire cottage seems to lean close and inhale with us.
She’s more than lovely.
More than magical or mighty.
She’s magnificent.
And, praise God and all the saints in Heaven, she’s mine.
“Cheese. On. Toast,” Zara breathes. “Zephyr. This crown is fucking perfect. Like wearing thistledown on my head. Definitely better than Messalina’s old prom queen special. Plus, you know, it solves that whole ‘two crowns’ issue. I mean, no more worrying about which one to wear when, right?”
Gracefully Zephyr drops to one knee and bends his regal head. “All hail the Gemini Queen.”
Neo and Ash are already on their feet, clearly preparing to follow suit. I’m wondering whether I should do the same when Zara lifts a decisive hand to stop us in our mutual tracks.
“Oh, Jesus, no. Don’t kneel,” she says firmly. “No kneeling—none of you. I mean it. Not you guys. You’re all my kings and you don’t fucking kneel. Not to anyone. Not even me.”
Zephyr gazes up at her in silence, then inclines his chin in a slow nod. He unfolds to his feet as gracefully as he went down.
He even unbends enough to accept the mug of herbal tea Ash steeped for him, since the Dark Fae famously can’t abide coffee.
Vasili is still lounging naked in bed, and no one would ever be fool enough to expect him to kneel for anyone, even Zara. Still, V cups her chin in his black-nailed hand, looks piercingly into her eyes with a small smile curling his lips, then murmurs, “All hail, little queen.”
He leans in for a kiss from Zara that is far more tender and respectful than the one he just inflicted on Zephyr.
This is a kiss for the ages.
A fairytale kiss.
A kiss infused with all the powerful and complicated love that has grown among the nine of us who share this polycule, very much like the ivy twined around the rafters.
Potent, resilient, and evergreen.
Watching that storybook kiss deepen between Zara and Vasili, Mordred jumps up and wraps himself around me for a cuddle.
Ronin prowls around the bed to tuck in against my other side.
I wrap a possessive arm around Ronin’s waist, my wolf rumbling happily in my chest, and drench our mate in scent to welcome him.
Ash slings a heavy arm around Zephyr’s neck and draws him close.
Maxim abandons the plate of Christmas cookies (mostly eaten) and pulls an always willing Neo into his lap with an affectionate growl.
“Wow.” Zara surfaces from Vasili’s kiss at last with a dreamy sigh. “The sun’s barely even up, and this is already the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”
Softly I tell her and all our mates, “Somehow, I have the distinct sense there’s quite a bit more Christmas yet to come.”