Page 29 of Randall
“I was a problem for the clan, and when Queen Guenevere asked for someone to protect and eventually teach Valter, they sent me.”
Darvon mulled his mate’s confession over for a moment before he said, “I find it hard to believe that you were a problem child. You seem too…”
“Highbrow? Stubborn? Proud? Innocent?” Randall’s lips pressed into a sly smirk.
Darvon rolled his eyes as Randall chuckled. “Problem child… Say no more.”
“Were you not the same? Second in line is a horrible place to be. Forced to always support Jarrah, knowing he’d ascend, and you’d be relegated to some role in his court. I’m certain you drove both your mother and brother crazy with your antics.”
“Sometimes.” Darvon shrugged. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you and Flynn all my secrets, but now isn’t the time. Tell me… who was that stranger traveling with the prince and his mates?”
Randall sobered, the small smile he’d worn falling away. He grabbed Darvon’s elbow and walked him out of hearing range from Lanter, and then still leaned close so that he could speak softly in Darvon’s ear. “That was Master Vampire Artor Angenoir of the Midnight Claimed Clan.”
“Another vampire,” Darvon hissed. “Why? Wait…” He held up a hand as everything he’d learned so far fell into line. “He’s the dragon’s mate.”
“Yes. I believe so, too. They are part of the fourth mating, and your Sylvan, the fifth and final.”
Darvon took hold of Randall’s hands. “And all of us are needed to defeat this evil.”
“All of us are needed to break the curse.”
Darvon peered into Randall’s dark brown eyes. They stared at each other, lost in their thoughts, but together, united. The curse had started them on this path, leading them to find their mates.He wasn’t sure whether or not he should be happy about it. Without it, would Darvon have ever left the Fae realm? Without this wretched evil striking the land, would Flynn have ever run from his village?
Without this curse, they might never have met. He lifted Randall’s hands to his lips, kissing the knuckles before stepping closer and lifting his chin. As Randall bent and fused their mouths together in a kiss that started soft and grew more demanding with each passing moment, Darvon wished Flynn was beside them and that they didn’t have an audience.
Chapter 20
Flynn
Some days, Flynn thought being a cat shifter was the best thing ever. Normally, this would have been one of those days, lying in a warm patch of sunshine with nothing to do but wait. Flynn, however, didn’t have that sort of patience at the moment.
He’d passed the time with Timur, learning about the Frost Dragon shifters of Wintervale. Timur described the mountains and high valleys, the raging waterfalls, the stone and wood homes, and the ever-burning fires needed for cooking, heat, and light. He spoke about his training, his schooling, his teachers, and mentors. Flynn could almost taste the delicious food as Timur talked about it; he could practically hear the beautiful melodies of music and admire the sleek dancers spinning on the dance floor.
In all the descriptions, however, Flynn couldn’t miss how Timur would begin to say father or mother or brother and hear how it twisted to “my friend” or “someone I know.” There was no mention of family unless it was disguised as belonging to someother dragon. The falsehoods grated on Flynn’s ears until he eventually got up and walked off, after spilling his own lies about needing to stretch his legs or finding a tree to relieve his bladder.
Meanwhile, the sun moved steadily across the sky, and as every bird drifted past, he would look up and hope Randall had sent a return message. His hunger grew with each passing hour. At least with the river nearby, he could assuage his thirst. Flynn crafted a bowl of vines and lined it with fresh leaves, which allowed him to carry water to Timur.
He also used the water to wash away the dried blood and give him a better view of the damage. The ragged gash would require extensive stitching to pull the skin together. Flynn questioned Timur on a dragon’s healing prowess and was assured that once he was put to rights, he’d heal just fine, but Flynn heard the worry in Timur’s timbre. He suspected that the poison-infected wound was worse than Timur made it sound.
Because if the dragon couldn’t heal himself, what would?
Chapter 21
Randall
I would have loved to remain blissfully unaware of anything but the taste and feel of my mate, but when he parted from me with a hand on my chest, I woke to the stark reminder that we weren’t alone.
“We should probably…” Darvon trailed off, tilting his head toward the soldiers.
“Right. Yes.” By all the goodness of the gods and goddesses, Darvon’s lips on mine made me lose my mind.
Darvon’s sly grin made my knees weak. How was I so lucky to end up with such a beautiful man? And knowing Flynn was also mine… I stole another kiss, a brief press of my mouth to his, just because, and then I stepped back.
A howl grabbed our attention moments before Duke appeared in his furry form. He ran in circles around us, ignoring the gasps from the soldiers and the swords drawn in fear. He slowed enough to howl again and then raced for the water, leaping inand creating a huge splash. I shouted his name, but the thunder of pounding hoofbeats drowned out my voice.
The hooded figures of Baron and Artor rode into the clearing, followed by Valter, driving a carriage. Valter dragged on the reins, halting the horses, and leapt from the seat, landing lightly on the balls of his feet. As he jogged past the soldiers, they sheathed their weapons and went down on their knees, fists over their hearts.
Darvon and I remained standing. “That was quicker than you thought,” he muttered while we watched the Master Vampires dismount. The way Artor continued looking down the road did not escape my notice.
