Downs, Jana - Ravyn's Destiny [Ravyn Warriors 3] (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove) (16 page)

BOOK: Downs, Jana - Ravyn's Destiny [Ravyn Warriors 3] (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove)
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“Mar,” Salvatore called as he saw the advisor circle around the stone mound with a lovely, tanned man on his arm. The advisor grinned at the sight of him.

“Greetings, my lord. You look ravishingly handsome this evening. The adornment at your brow is making more of an announcement than your Destiny ever could.” Mar bowed, and his companion did the same.

“I was looking for Destin. Do you know where he is?”

“He’s probably playing with the children under the waterfall. That’s usually where he is before Court starts.” Mar glanced at the heavens and the enchanted ceiling that was made invisible so that the fae could see the passage of time in the sky. “You’re about five minutes early, so that’s most likely where you’ll find him.”

Salvatore nodded his head in thanks and took off toward the waterfall and the pool beneath it. The sight that greeted him as he rounded the stones took his breath away.

Destin was in a splashing contest with several young boys, the oldest of which could be no more than seven. He was apparently losing because his head was dripping wet and his clothes stuck to his flesh like a second skin. Laughter had turned his features into those of a carefree youth, and his obvious love of children made Salvatore’s heart expand impossibly. This was what a King was supposed to do. This was how he was supposed to be with his people.

“Evil water sprites!” Destin accused, laughing. “You’ve all but drowned me!”

“No, my lord! No!” several of them cried, giggling at the dramatic way Destin slumped against a nearby rock.

“It is the end of me!” Destin wailed. “You’ve killed this poor old ogre.”

The six sprites surrounded him. “You’re not an old ogre, my lord!” one squeaked.

“Nope. Not even a little bit,” another agreed.

“You’re a big, scary dragon.” Another added his voice to the argument of what Destin was exactly.

“A dragon, you say?” Destin pondered the statement, his hands stroking his chin like he was a Saturday-morning cartoon villain. “I think not, my young ones. However,” he whispered conspiratorially, “I know where we could find one.”

“Where, my lord? Where?” they asked eagerly. Destin raised his hand and pointed toward the place where Salvatore stood.

“There, young ones! There is a dragon.” They all turned wide eyes in Salvatore’s direction.

“Are you sure that’s a dragon?” one whispered loudly to Destin. He seemed to be the leader of their little outfit.

“Oh indeed, young master. I am. He has enslaved your King and holds his heart. If only someone were here to free me.” The children took the hint.

“Charge!”

* * * *

Court had started much later than originally scheduled. According to Mar and Quis that was not unusual, and two slightly damp monarchs had stood before the people of Underhill to be received as an official couple for the first time. Court had erupted into loud cheers at the announcement, and Salvatore’s back was pounded by so many different fae that he was sure he wouldn’t remember anyone’s name in the morning.

“You did well, dragon boy,” Destin said, bumping shoulders with him as they walked back down the hall toward their bedroom. Salvatore raised an eyebrow at the shorter man and bumped him back.

“You, too, faery boy. Your Court is wonderful. Everyone is so comfortable and free with one another.” Salvatore sighed a little wistfully. “I want my Court to be like that. Father almost had it as tranquil before Desmond took over. Now I’ll have to go back to square one when I ascend the throne.”

“If you ascend the throne,” Destin remarked, opening the door for his lover with a wave of his hand.

Salvatore frowned. “What do you mean ‘if’? Of course I’ll ascend the throne. They’re my people. I can’t abandon them.”

Destin shot him an uneasy look. “Well, Underhill’s people are now your people, too. You have an obligation to them just as you do to those in Demontia.” He paused. “Besides, why would you want to go back? You have a whole new life here with me.”

“I gave an oath to protect the people of Demontia from without and within. I am happy in this new life, Destin.” He pulled the now-frowning King into his arms. “But it doesn’t mean I can forget about my old one. I still want to return to Earth to my Ravyns, and I still want to try and get my throne back from Desmond.” He’d explained all of this to Destin at least seventy-five times. His evil cousin needed to be put down. Salvatore would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t do everything in his power to free the people of his homeland. He pressed a kiss to his lover’s lips. “And I want you to be by my side the whole way, baby.”

Destin sighed and snuggled his face into Salvatore’s muscled chest. “I don’t want you to fight. I want you to stay here where you’re safe.” Salvatore’s arms tightened around him.

“Some things are worth the risk, my Destiny.”

“What if you fail? What if you die? I don’t know if I could stand losing you like that.” Destin chewed on his lip piercing as he had a habit of doing whenever he was worrying about something.

“When I return to Earth, I’ll try to bind two more men to me. The Ravyns made the suggestion before I came here and I didn’t have the power to do so. I just might have it now. That’ll be two more men added to the fight. Plus Alex and his vampires—”

“That’s only two more people to fight beside you,” Destin interrupted. “And the vampires that Alex has access to are a bunch of artists. Are you planning on distracting the hundreds of warriors Desmond has at his disposal with a couple of dancing vampires?”

Salvatore frowned. He hadn’t thought of that. “Well,” he began, “Alex can fight. With a little training he’ll be great. I mean, he’s got the strength.”

“So you’re going up against all of Demontia with eight people to fight beside you? Do you have a death wish?” the Fae King wondered.

“I have to try, Destin. Gods, why can’t you be supportive?”

“How can I be supportive when you’re talking about committing suicide? It’ll be a noble, self-righteous suicide but a suicide nonetheless!”

Salvatore pushed the air out of his lungs through his teeth and turned away from the King. “If you have any other suggestions, I’d love to hear them because, personally, I’ve been doing this for two thousand years, and I’ve got nothing. We’re the strongest we’ve ever been. We’re finally in a place that can act as a strong base to launch our attacks from, and I don’t see how we have any other choice. We may not get another opportunity like this one.”

He crossed the wooden floor and pushed through the metal curtains to flop down on the bed. He was frustrated. Everything Destin pointed out was true, but he needed the hope, even the marginal hope, of success in order to keep doing this. It’d been too long and he’d lost his men too many times to think that it was all hopeless and that inevitably they would fail.

“I’m sorry, Salvatore. I’m not trying to be a jackass. I just want you to be safe, and I don’t think the current plan you have is going to cut it.” Destin followed him through the curtains and slid in beside him. “I love you, and the thought of someone hurting you is abhorrent to me.” The fae reached out his hand and stroked Salvatore’s hair out of his face. It was getting long again. They’d have to cut it soon.

“I just don’t know what to do. I’ve thought and I’ve thought. I’ve planned, and I’ve strategized. Any way I look at it, we’re outmanned and outgunned, but I can’t just give up.” Salvatore kissed Destin’s palm and drew him more firmly into his arms. He needed his lover’s comfort as much as he needed to feed. His stomach rumbled, and he sighed. Yeah, he needed to feed on his lover’s emotions, too. He hadn’t had any since last night. Destin had gone to Earth today to work and to give his Ravyns messages from him. He wasn’t gone long, but the rest of the day had been spent planning Court, so Salvatore hadn’t gotten to see him.

“Use my army,” Destin said unexpectedly. Salvatore’s eyes widened.

“What did you just say?”

“Use my army,” Destin repeated. “They’re warriors. Most of them have been in wars before. It’s true that we’re a peaceful world, but we weren’t always so. They’re well disciplined and sharp. So long as they’re all together, they should be fine even fighting in Demontia.”

“Most fae can’t leave Underhill for extended periods of time. How would they do that?”

“Faery armies are set up so that every warrior has a strong enough partner whom they feed off of for the duration. It’s fairly simple. We have different units as well as specific “feeders” who warriors who have lost their partners can feed from. Trust me when I say that our armies are well organized,” Destin said.

“How many men are we talking about?” Salvatore asked excitedly. His heart was pounding at the thought of having a whole army at his disposal. That would increase their odds of success exponentially. It was the first real hope that Salvatore had ever been offered.

“Around seven thousand full-time fighters. I could get another three from my mother’s kingdom on Earth, but I’ll have to ask her. I may be the King of Faery but the other royals will get miffed if I start demanding warriors from them without consulting them first. The Summer Court rules all the other kingdoms in a network and I operate everything from Underhill so the other kingdoms have Regents who act as monarchs that I have to talk to first. But I can offer seven freely.” Salvatore threw back his head and gave a bloodcurdling war cry that startled his lover if the jumping was any indication. He squeezed his lover tightly, rolling Destin beneath him and smothering his face with kisses.

“Gods, I love you, baby! I really do! Seven thousand! Yes! We can so work with that.” He leaned forward and captured Destin’s lips in a passionate kiss. When he pulled back, Destin was gasping. “Marry me,” the Demon Prince said suddenly.

Destin blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Marry me. I don’t want to be just your Consort. I don’t want this union between us to only be good for a year.”

“Well, we can renew it after a year is up,” Destin said. “There is no reason to be so brash. The Consort Contracts are good for a year so that the monarchs are offered a chance to marry after the year is up. But there isn’t really any rush.”

“I want it to be good forever. You’re my whole world, and I don’t want even the possibility of us splitting up.”

Destin chuckled uneasily. “That’s the gratitude talking.”

“No. No it’s not. I’ve wanted this from the beginning. I promise you that. Marry me, Destin. Please, marry me.” He punctuated each plea with a feather-soft kiss on Destin’s lips. By the time he was finished, Destin was flushed with pleasure.

“We have to wait until our Consort Contract is up in another nine months,” he said reluctantly. Salvatore grinned.

“Long enough for you to plan a hell of a big wedding.” He kissed his lover again, harder this time. “Is that a yes?”

“Stay here with me for the duration of the planning and don’t bug me about going to the other side, and that’s a yes.” Destin was blushing prettily by the time he finished speaking. Salvatore gave another victory shout and started getting down to some serious kissing. By the time the sun rose, he’d make sure that Destin knew exactly how much he loved him and how grateful he was to be engaged to the most perfect man in all of the universes.

Chapter Fourteen

Nine Months Later

It was his wedding day, and Salvatore was the happiest man ever. Forget drugs or alcohol or anything else that wasn’t his Destiny. He was perfectly high and perfectly drunk off the thought of the Fae King alone. He was trying to fill the time between now and the noon service which would bind him forever to the love of his life. He tapped his pen impatiently on the sole of his shoe and reread the same sentence in Tony’s letter four times before giving up with a sigh.

In the early morning hours before dawn, Destin had left their bedroom to go prepare in another part of the palace, and Salvatore had been asked to go to the bachelor’s lounge so that the Court fae could ready their bedroom for their wedding night.

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