Page 15 of Randall
For a moment, it looked like Jarrah wouldn’t answer, but then he nodded again. “I can’t tell you any more than that.”
“I understand,” Sylvan said, backing down in the face of Jarrah’s hardened gaze. “Three days. I’ll meet you there.”
Jarrah turned on the balls of his feet and left without saying farewell. We stared after him until Soric spoke. “Darvon, go with Randall and get his bags from the castle. Sylvan and I will ready the horses and carriage and gather food for your travels. We’ll handle everything.”
“Thank you,” Darvon said as I stretched out my hand to Sylvan. When he clasped my forearm, I gave him my thanks.
He huffed and gave me a push toward the door, and I went, pulling Darvon along, out of the house, into the night, and soon into our future.
Chapter 10
Flynn
The icy mountain water leeched his strength. Whenever Flynn’s eyes slipped closed, he forced himself awake, kicking for the riverside and dragging his weary body ashore. He napped, holed up under thick shrubs or inside a tree until he could feel his toes again, then back into the river he went. Occasionally, he walked, following the river’s path, but travel was quicker via the water. He munched on bugs and edible plants, caught an unsuspecting bird who’d wandered too close, and fished when he drifted in a slow current.
Whenever he passed a settlement or city, Flynn dug his claws into the log or branch he’d been clinging to and lowered himself under the cold water until only his nose and eyes were visible. No one could see him, just like he wanted.Trust no one, he repeated, again and again. Sometimes, even out loud.
Except… Dark chestnut hair, and big brown eyes… Silver braid and starbursts in blue… Whenever he dared fall into a deeper sleep, they were there. The only people he knew he could trust.Always both, standing close together. When awake, he tried to recall the memory of his dream men. They’d first appeared when he was a child, but then those images had been fleeting, the men separate. One night, it would be the brown-haired man who paced and waved his arms about. Weeks later, it would be the silver-haired Fae in his dreams, sunning lazily, asleep in a field of flowers. Over the last year, the dreams had come more regularly, almost nightly.
In his dreams, everything surrounding the men had been nothing more than a hazy, silent backdrop, and when he’d wake, he’d feel an incredible pull toward the west and south. West made sense, since that was where the Fae resided in their hidden lands. To the south, the plains stretched far and wide before they gave way to the rising hill of Onamond, the capital of Obrusa.
In his more recent visions, they were together, reaching for him, and though he wasn’t sure, he’d long suspected who they were to him. He shied away from saying it out loud for fear of changing anything. But he hoped and wished they were together, waiting for him.
They were together, but where? Where were they waiting? And so Flynn kept watch, his eyes on the shoreline, and prayed to any god and goddess that might listen.
Chapter 11
Darvon
The carriage bumped along the road, jostling Darvon about. He gripped the rail with one hand, Randall’s thigh with the other.
“These roads are terrible,” he muttered as he was again thrown about when they hit a deep rut.
Randall chuckled as he transferred the reins to his left hand so that he could wrap his right arm around Darvon’s waist. “Apologies, Your Highness, they’ll smooth out soon.”
Darvon huffed. “Don’t call me that. My status has no bearing between us.”
“We could have just taken the horses. You insisted on the carriage.” Randall stared straight ahead.
Annoyed, he blatantly ignored Randall’s comment. Why would he—? Darvon subsided. Hehadbeen the one to insist, but he’d assumed someone else would be driving it, and he would be sitting in the cushioned interior with his mate at his side. He’d pictured it so clearly in his mind. Seated nearly on Randall’s lap, their thighs pressing together, holding hands, staring intoeach other’s eyes. Randall would lean in… he’d touch Darvon’s chin and cheek, hold him as their lips parted, brushing them together, once… twice… then deepening into a long kiss from which Darvon never wanted to be parted.
Unless they wanted to pull someone from their bed to drive the carriage, unless they wanted someone else to know where they headed… Besides, Jarrah thought it best they go alone. With the carriage. Damn his brother. Randall had agreed quickly, staring Darvon to silence when he would have insisted on their finding someone or pressing one of Duke’s wolves into service, but Jarrah wanted them sent home.
Jarrah… His brother knew more than he’d said, much more, but whatever strings the gods and goddesses were pulling, they were merely their pawns. He could only hope that they survived the coming days.
But first, they needed to find their mate. They’d reach Riverside after midday if they didn’t push the horses too hard. “Do you think he’ll recognize us? Or us him?”
“I’ll know,” Randall rumbled, “and I think you will, too. We’ll be drawn to him. I’m…”
“What?” Darvon asked when Randall hesitated. He frowned, seeing Randall’s tight-lipped expression. “You’re worried.”
“Yes, I…” Randall hesitated again, his shoulders curling forward. Darvon waited impatiently for his explanation. “I’m worried about the state we’ll find him in.”
Stunned by Randall’s admission, Darvon’s voice rose right along with his eyebrows. He gripped Randall’s leg harder. “What do you mean by that?”
Randall glanced at him, drawing his arm from around Darvon to cover the hand on his thigh. “Let me show you.”
He nodded and closed his eyes, and as Randall’s fingers slipped along his, a picture formed in his mind:a burning village, a waterfall, fast-flowing water, a hollowed-out tree.Feelings of hunger, tiredness, of being cold swamped him, causing him to jerk away from Randall.
