Page 32 of Randall
Darvon cocked a hip, opened his eyes wide, and pouted. “I’ll have you know I was a dutiful son. The apple of Mother’s eye.”
Tipping his head back, Randall laughed. “Careful with that bottom lip. I might just snag it.” He made playful chomping motions, but then slid his tongue across his upper teeth and winked.
Unable to resist, Darvon sprang forward. He grabbed Randall’s tunic and held on as he drove his tongue into Randall’s mouth. In return, Randall sucked hard, and Darvon’s cock, already at half-mast from their verbal byplay, lengthened quickly. He rubbed against his mate, feeling his air and earth magick swirl around them. Leaves and loose grass, along with the dust of the road, twisted in the air and fell in a circle at their feet when Randall softened their embrace and finally pulled away.
“I look forward to the moment when we will all be together and claim each other properly,” Randall murmured.
Darvon hummed, his heart thumping with need. “Yes. I wish the same, but first we must reunite with Flynn and hand over care of the dragon to Artor.”
“And whomever Fate joins them with.”
Darvon drew back. “Another triad… I wonder who their third will be.” Their shared vision hadn’t shown who it might be.
Randall shrugged, then turned toward the soldiers, who were busy preparing for their departure. One had taken on the task of hitching their horses to the carriage, giving them a little more time together. It gave him time to think, too, about all of the circumstances that had so far led up to this moment in time.
Leaning into his mate as his gaze swept toward Valter and his mates, Darvon grew curious. “Tell me more about the prince. I only ever heard news about King Sulter and Prince William. You said your parents sent you to the capital after Jarrah gave him a drop of Fae blood.”
“Yes. The queen sent for a tutor, and she got an eighteen-year-old mage full of hormones and spite. I think she regretted that decision for a few years, but by the time Valter was old enough for lessons, I’d found my place with His Majesty, and my calling with the queen.”
“Your calling?”
“Her spy,” Artor said, tapping his ear for effect. “Sorry, bad habit of listening in, but since I was also in her employ…” He lifted a shoulder bearing a cock-sure grin.
“Some spy I was,” Randall bemoaned. “I didn’t know you were hers as well.”
“Your surprise equaled mine.”
“Truly?”
Artor nodded. “She kept us apart. Her Majesty is a very, very smart woman.”
“Yes.” Randall’s gaze slid over to Valter and lingered a moment before returning to Artor. Darvon felt like a third wheel in the conversation, but there was no way he was leaving. These bits of truth filled in many of the blank spaces of Randall’s history. Perhaps there might even be something to discover as to why or how this new evil infiltrated their country.
Randall laced their fingers together, drawing Darvon’s attention. “Her Majesty told me that Queen Kaylani paid her a visit on the eve of her marriage. She had a vision and gifted Queen Guenevere with a magick-sensing amulet.”
“True,” Artor confirmed, then continued, “What she didn’t tell you was that Jarrah’s ‘blessing’ was planned.”
“What?” Valter shouted. “My mother knew!” He stepped between them and faced Artor, pointing an accusatory finger at the vampire. “The truth. Now.”
Artor placed a hand over his heart and bowed. “Your Highness, I’m not sure…”
“Now, Artor.”
Artor sighed. “Very well. On the eve of your parents’ marriage, the Queen of the Fae asked for a private audience with Her Majesty. Back then, I spied for the safety of my clan. With all the royalty in attendance for the marriage, I wanted to ensure no one had any ill intentions towards us. I was like a bug on the wall, clinging outside her window, listening, but I’d forgotten how powerful the Fae are, and so was caught.”
He stared at Darvon. “I don’t know what your mother saw in me, but she chose to trust me. She foresaw a great evil taking over the land, and only with the aid of many, including the queen’s youngest child—which is mind-blowing when one hasn’t even lain with their spouse—would the evil be banished. Queen Guenevere took me into her confidence, and I became her spymaster, and from sunset to sunrise, my clansmen were herspies. Randall, through the king, took over during the daylight hours.”
Darvon felt Randall tense beside him. He glanced around the clearing, noting the soldiers standing ready, the horses stomping their hooves, and he grew apprehensive. He wanted to go. The dragon needed help, and Flynn… When Darvon thought of his mate, his breath caught. Flynn needed them. Their mate was an anxious ball of nerves, waiting for their arrival. The thread of their bond pulsed. They needed to end this conversation and move out.
Randall seemed not to notice Darvon’s increasing agitation as he crossed his arms and huffed. “Obviously, I was not so much in her confidence that she informed me of you. I believed I was acting alone for her benefit, and that of the king and kingdom.”
“That was neither my decision nor want.” Artor took a few steps toward Randall. “Many times I asked for your inclusion—not knowing I had it—but each time she said no, that I must wait. It wasn’t the right time.”
“And now it is,” Valter said, clinging to Baron’s arm with Duke pressed up against their backs. “Now we work together to save Obrusa.”
Silent nods all around before Artor broke the thick tension. “Could we maybe get on with saving my mate first?”
Finally…
