Ravyn Warriors 3

 

Ravyn’s Destiny

The demon Prince Salvatore is a kingdomless monarch getting
tired of life. Watched over by five Ravyn warriors, he’s spent

generations trying to take back his kingdom from his murderous
cousin. All he desires is to return home in peace. Then he meets
an unexpected treasure, a human who won’t tell him his name.

Now he wants something for himself that he never wanted
before—love.

Destin is a faery King who has been unlucky in relationships. He’s
been hurt in the past and has given up on love. By playing a

bartender in the human world, he keeps his distance emotionally
from other people, until he meets a gorgeous foreigner who wants

him to take a chance.

When fate thrusts the two of them together, can they learn to
embrace the unexpected gift they’ve been given? Or is their

shared destiny just too good to be true?

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Fantasy
Length: 44,943 words

 

RAVYN’S DESTINY

Ravyn Warriors 3

Jana Downs

EROTIC ROMANCE

MANLOVE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

 

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove


RAVYN’S DESTINY
Copyright © 2012 by Jana Downs
E-book ISBN: 1-61926-198-7

First E-book Publication: January 2012

Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

 

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of Ravyn’s Destiny by Jana Downs
from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also,
thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or
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The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying
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This is Jana Downs’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect
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DEDICATION

To Sasha for giving Destiny his name and to everyone who

wanted Salvatore to have his own happily ever after. Thank you.

 

 

RAVYN’S DESTINY

Ravyn Warriors 3

JANA DOWNS

Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

Salvatore thrust his hips into the companion under him, working

his thick cock deep into her willing pussy. It felt good. It always did.
He looked down and saw her true form, blonde hair that hung to her
shoulders and a tight little body to die for. Large aqua eyes regarded
him with sparkling pleasure as she neared her third peak of the
evening. She cried out, and her nails dug into his shoulders, delivering
a pleasant sting to his back.

“My lord,” the changeling panted. “What do you need to achieve

your pleasure?”

He felt ashamed for a moment that he couldn’t do it with just her

lovely body under him. He couldn’t attain orgasm from any of his
concubines lately. It was a depressing thought. His plunging cock
faltered.

“My lord,” his concubine reminded, milking him to keep him

hard. “Your pleasure. Tell me what you need?”

“You know what I need,” Salvatore whispered. His voice held a

note of shame, but he couldn’t help it. He needed it now. Needed it to
find bliss.

Her features shifted before his eyes, elongating and becoming

more masculine with each passing second. He blinked and found

Ravyn’s Destiny

9

 

himself staring into the dark-brown eyes of the bartender at Daylight
whose name he didn’t even know. His arousal jerked inside the tight
confines of his concubine’s body. A groan escaped his lips as he
stared into her eyes, her legs wrapped around his hips. Her breasts
disappeared a second later, and he was confronted with tight, muscled
pectorals.

“Yessss…” he hissed as those legs tightened around his waist. His

hands grabbed the headboard of the bed and he slammed his hips
forward in desperation. Salvatore was almost instantly at his peak. His
body was thrumming with stimulation.

Another groan left his throat as he thrust once, twice, three times.

His body erupted into the hot milking depths of his lover, shuddering
at the final completion. He released the headboard slowly and rolled
to the side of his companion. Her illusion melted as he caught his
breath from his place on his back, returning to her very beautiful, very
female form.

“My lord, we need to talk,” she stated. She wasn’t cross with him,

but it was her duty to please him, and his state of mind lately
concerned her. All of his concubines had mentioned it to him at one
time or another. Prince Salvatore may not be the legendary lover his
Ravyn warrior Allasandro had been before his mating to the vampire
Damian, but he was still considered a consummate lover and collector
of beauty.

“I’d rather not.” Salvatore evaded the conversation that would no

doubt call into question why he’d been having fucked-up sexual needs
of late. He rolled to his side. She poked his ribs, and he flinched.
“Hey!” he grumbled, rubbing the place she’d poked her surprisingly
sharp finger into. He rolled back over and looked into her unearthly,
beautiful face. He used to feel pride looking into the eyes of his
concubines, knowing that they were his and his alone. Now, he
looked and felt sadness. Which was ridiculous considering he was
nursing a crush on another man.

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Maybe Judgment, the guardian statue of a raven that was gifted to

him by his father, had been more right than he’d imagined when he
predicted that the Ravyns’ preferences were changing. Since
Salvatore was so intimately connected with the Ravyns, it would
make sense that his preferences were changing, too. Which wouldn’t
bother him if he’d found a male companion to satisfy that ache inside
of him. Except he had to go and fall head over ass in love with a
breathtakingly beautiful, absolutely aloof man whose name he didn’t
even know and who wouldn’t give him the time of day. He could
command his elite warriors, his Ravyns, to jump off a cliff at his
discretion, but he couldn’t convince one puny human to tell him his
name.

“You, sir, are having a major problem,” she said in clear Earth

slang. “Denial doesn’t suit you, my Prince. You’re in love with that
man, and the rest of us can do nothing to alter that, nor would we
want to. You need to confront him once and for all so that you can
move on or live happily ever after.”

“This isn’t a fairy tale,” Salvatore denied.
“It doesn’t matter. Don’t trap yourself in limbo and us along with

you. We’ve been your concubines for over a hundred years. We’ve
been your companions and your friends but never your love. So it
comes as little surprise that you’ve fallen in love with someone else.”
She paused. “Besides, even the illusions we create for you of his face
aren’t exactly right. You’ve memorized him in your mind, and
because of that, you find the flaws and never achieve true
completion.”

“I came,” he reminded her, tucking his hand between her legs and

finding the evidence of it on the vee of her thighs. He didn’t want to
admit that she was right. The illusions, while excellent, were still not
perfect. The piercings and the tattoos weren’t there. Who would’ve
thought he would be interested in those? He was raised in a royal
palace away from such common forms of expression. He’d never
been particularly fascinated once he’d been exposed, either. He

Ravyn’s Destiny

11

 

preferred natural. Didn’t he? Gods, he was going crazy. Even that
impossible-to-place accent, that no other human he’d met possessed,
drove him crazy. That slow drawl made his cock hard like nothing
else.

“You were determined to reach orgasm from the minute you

summoned me. You stubbornly refused to let me take his form
initially, and we’ve been trying to attain your completion for hours
now. While this is satisfying to me, you would have never come that
way. I didn’t even make the suggestion until you were desperate, and
by then, you knew what I knew from the start. You needed it to get
there.”

He sighed. “Amelia. I am sorry.” He pulled her to him, taking

comfort from the warmth of her body. “I don’t understand this. It’s so
confusing.”

“Why not try it out?” Amelia suggested softly, stroking his

bloodred hair.

“I need an heir, Amelia. To solidify my position once I regain my

throne, I need an heir.”

“In all the years we’ve been with you, we’ve never conceived.

There may be a reason, Salvatore. What if you’re meant to sire
children with this human man of yours?” she wondered.

Salvatore gave her a look that questioned her intelligence. “As

you well know, two men cannot have a baby, Amelia.”

“There are ways to still have an heir and be with your love. We’ve

seen healers. We know that we can bear children and that you are
fertile. There is something that keeps your seed from releasing when
you have sex with us. It is destiny.” Amelia kissed his cheek gently
before pulling out of his embrace and reaching for the sheer silken
shift that lay on the floor. “The gods work in mysterious ways,
Salvatore. They may have plans for you other than the ones that you
have made.” She crossed to the small mirrored dresser that he’d put
there for his concubines’ use when they were entertaining him. She

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opened a drawer and drew out a silver hairbrush and began to tame
her pale hair.

“Would I stop getting these lectures from the six of you if I

approach the human for a date?” he asked, throwing his arm over his
eyes. He knew he had to do something. This yearning was becoming
too much even for him.

She favored him with a full, bright smile that displayed her pearly

white teeth. “If you will pursue the human and try to be happy with
something other than your habitual hiding places, yes, we will stop
the lectures every time you summon us.” He laughed at her audacity.
His women had been with him longer than even his current Ravyns
had been. They knew him so well. To be honest, they mothered him
more than a little bit.

“Fine, woman.” He growled in mock annoyance. “I’ll ask the

human out on a date.” She smiled again and stood.

“Good. I hope that you will keep your end of the bargain, and we

shall keep ours. I’ll let the others know.” Amelia gave him another
kiss before heading toward the door.

“Deal, but if I get heartbroken, I’m blaming you,” he called after

her, half joking. The other half was absolutely terrified of the
prospect. He hadn’t really dated since his father had been alive. She
stilled her forward movement and turned back to him.

“Salvatore, our service is almost at an end. You must find

someone to make you happy between now and then. I pray to the gods
that your human is he. If not, you must pick up and try again. I
couldn’t bear you being so alone. You’re already more lonely than
even, you know, my sweet Prince. Not even your Ravyns can fill that
emptiness.”

“I was just joking, Amelia,” Salvatore said, oddly touched. “I

promise to try and find someone to love.”

She nodded. “Have a good evening, my Prince. Have fun at the

club.”

“Always do, doll,” he lied. “Always do.”

Ravyn’s Destiny

13

 

As soon as the door shut behind her, he rolled to his feet and

padded toward the bathroom just as his Ravyns came through the
door. One of the jaguar shifters of the Entertainer house, Michel, was
with them. Salvatore waved a hand in greeting, flashing his bare ass
to the lot of them as he continued on his way. Druas whistled at his
retreating back, making him smile. He loved his Ravyns. He truly did.
But he really needed a minute alone.

He locked the door behind him and stared at himself in the full-

length mirror that hung between the sinks. The demon didn’t
understand why the human at the bar rebuffed him. He knew he
looked good by human standards. He was bred for it. He was tall and
lean with defined muscles that came more from good breeding than
from any real exercise, though he had started doing some cardio and
sparring with his Ravyns upon occasion after one attack that nearly
got them all killed. His hair was the shade of a perfect garnet, the
deepest red imaginable. Humans often mistook it as a wig or else a
tremendously well-done dye job because even his eyebrows matched.
His eyes were a perfect parallel of his hair, another lighter shade of
red, more ruby than garnet. His mouth was a perfect cupid’s bow and
his jaw square but not overly masculine.

He knew he looked good enough to be a conjuring out of a

magician’s amusement because numerous women had told him so.
Maybe men saw other men differently. Maybe they didn’t like what
he looked like. Insecurity struck him for the first time in a thousand
years. Gods, was he really considering this? He didn’t know what he
would do if the human laughed at him.

With a curse, he looked away from the mirror and jerked the

shower door open before furiously twisting the knob so that water
shot out of the rain showerhead in an instant, cold downpour. With
another twist, he added the heat, setting the temperature at a perfect
one hundred five degrees. He liked his showers a little cooler than
most of his Ravyns.

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Salvatore stepped into the spray, the water acting like a balm to

his anger. He loved the water. Always had. When he was younger, his
family used to go to the summer house in the west lands that was right
on the coast of the most perfect turquoise ocean that stayed lukewarm
year round. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his forehead
against the cold tile as the water sliced down his back and thighs. Too
bad Desmond had burned that house to the ground years ago. He
hadn’t seen the ocean since. It was too dangerous, according to his
Ravyns.

He was so sick of hiding, so sick of running, so sick of fighting

the endless multitudes of people Desmond sent to end his life so that
he would be forever uncontested on the throne. How many times had
his Ravyns, his best friends and his bodyguards, died to save him?
Hundreds, maybe thousands. And instead of rest, his Ravyns were
reincarnated over and over again to serve his needs and serve as his
protectors. They never were able to love, never able to settle down,
never able to live their own separate lives. He felt horrible about it.

Every few generations he would make the offer for the Ravyns to

step down from their positions as his guardians and live their own
lives and finally find peace. Each time they had denied him. They
were men of honor whose oaths meant everything and whose loyalty
was unquestionable even when they faltered or failed. He was so very
grateful for their sacrifices, but times were changing and things that
had never been before had come to pass.

First he’d left his homeland of Demontia and traveled with his

Ravyns to one of the outer universes known as Earth. His reason to
come had been simple. He wanted a little more freedom, and his
favorite entertainment group was stationed in this universe. Ironically,
La Petite Morte’s theater troupe had become a second family to him
and to his Ravyns. One of his Ravyns was actually a former lover of
one of the main line’s vampires, Alexander. They had reunited and
created a bridge between the vampires who owned the theater and the
Ravyns who protected the Prince. Allasandro, another of his Ravyns,

Ravyn’s Destiny

15

 

had recently gotten engaged to another of the troupe’s vampires,
Damian. It seemed his Ravyns were finding happiness of their own at
long last. Salvatore was happy for them and couldn’t help but wonder
if this meant that the end of the war was at hand.

“My Prince, you doin’ okay?” Druas called through the heavy oak

door. Salvatore rolled his eyes. That was something he’d been tired of
for a long time. He was physically older than all of them combined,
yet they still treated him like a child.

“I’m fine!” the Demon Prince called before his bodyguards got

the brilliant idea to break the door down…again.

Maybe they treated him like that because they were warriors of

true power. They were powerful demons who controlled elements like
they were naught but tools in a sack to be taken out for frequent and
brutal use. While Salvatore’s command of the warriors was absolute
and he could pick them up and toss them about at his pleasure, his
powers did not truly lie in the direction of war and fighting. He had
tremendous diplomatic skills, courtesy of his father, and a rapier wit,
but beyond that, he wasn’t really sure what he was meant to do. He
was only fifty years old when his father was killed, and the bulk of his
training to be the heir to the Dragon Throne had barely begun.

Supposedly, his line had a tremendous power that was passed

down generation to generation. The originator of his line had gone on
a quest to a foreign plane of existence before traveling between
universes had been a safe or a highly done activity in order to gain
power necessary to rule the harsh realm of Demontia, which then had
been in a sort of Dark Age chaos.

He’d traveled for seven years before he’d come across a maiden

so beautiful and glittering with power than he’d immediately wanted
to possess her. Her hair was the shade of crimson and her eyes the
shade of blood. She was sly with many great powers which she
could’ve immediately slain him with, if she had chosen to do so. But,
she found the brave demon warrior to be enchanting, so she allowed
him to court her. Their courtship lasted a year and a day, and each day

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that passed made the demon think less and less of the horrible
homeland that he had left and more and more of spending eternity in
this realm with his ladylove.

Something, however, kept him from telling her of his feelings for

her. Every night his lady would disappear, completely vanishing with
nightfall and only returning when the first rays of the sun graced the
strange, exotic land. He grew anxious with this pattern, sure that she
was hiding another husband elsewhere in the vastness of the forest
which she called home. So he decided to follow her as she left one
evening without her knowing.

As the sun set, she came into a clearing in the forest, not a fifteen-

minute walk from the home he’d built for them out of redwood trees,
and stripped off of her clothes. Anger seized him as his worst fears
were seemingly coming true with his beautiful wife’s disrobement.
Just as he was fixing to jump from his hiding place and confront her
about the lover she had to be waiting on, her body shimmered,
glowing with a power that made him quake in fear and awe.

The glow intensified until it was too bright to look upon, and he

had to shield his eyes from its luster. When at last it faded, he looked
back to see a giant creature with iridescent scales the same shade as
his ladylove’s hair standing in the large clearing. He knew instantly
what had happened.

He rushed forward from his hiding place and knelt on the ground

before the tremendous power of the dragon, though he didn’t know
what she called herself yet, and begged her forgiveness for doubting
her loyalty. He pledged his love and his life to his wife once again, no
matter her form. The beast regarded him shrewdly, speaking to his
mind and testing him with three riddles which he passed.

She knelt before him and instructed him to climb onto her back.

Her red wings spread out, and she took him into the sky, through a
bolt-hole between dimensions, and back into Demontia. They dropped
from the sky in the southlands and down into the heart of a mountain
which became a cave deep in its heart. There she showed him her

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treasures, innumerable pieces of fine gems and metals, and told him
that she would give it all to him if he would restore order to Demontia
in her name. She was the oldest demon there ever had been. The first
and the creator of their race.

He did as she commanded, and in return she gave him a kingdom

more vast than any other’s before, all the treasure of her home in the
caves of the southlands, powers and spells of tremendous value which
no demon could duplicate or achieve, and lastly, she bore him two
sons. Twins. The first members of his line.

Salvatore contemplated the story as he rinsed the shampoo out of

his hair and scrubbed his body with the silk bodywash that Alex had
recommended on their last shopping trip. He had a proud heritage and
a noble name. He wished it meant more to him than a fairy tale. He
was a demon with great potential, but it was unrealized potential and
in effect useless unless he learned to use it. If he were half the demon
his father had been, he would’ve figured it out on his own by now and
somehow used it to enrapture the human he desired with it.

Gods, he was thinking about all manner of depressing thoughts

tonight. He suddenly did not feel like going to the club, but he’d
promised his concubines he would. If he didn’t, they would all pout
and lecture and make him miserable for the next few months until
their service ended and they wed. Now, that was a freaking depressing
thought, too.

In four months’ time, the number of years they’d sworn to serve

as his lovers would be up, and he would be obligated to find them all
eligible demon husbands to settle with since they’d born him no
children. That task was one he didn’t mind so much because he loved
them all and cherished them as the friends they were. There was no
passion between them, but it had been nice to be able to have sex at
his leisure. Without his concubines, he would be alone. It was too
dangerous to bring anyone else home, and going to houses of ill
repute was illegal in this realm. Shit. Not only would he be miserable,
he’d have to endure forced celibacy.

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“Fuck my life,” he said out loud, shutting the shower off.

Ravyn’s Destiny

19

 

Chapter Two

Salvatore wrapped a towel around his waist to go into his

bedroom. A chorus of “good evening, my Prince” immediately
followed his entrance.

“Hi, guys,” he greeted. He went into his spacious closet and

extracted a pair of loose blue jeans and a blue button-down shirt.
Crap. He’d forgotten his underwear. “Hey, Ally,” he called. “Get into
my top drawer and hand me my black briefs, please.” He rolled his
eyes as an immediate burst of laughter followed his request. His head
pushed forward as it was nailed dead center with a scrap of cloth. His
underwear. He gritted his teeth. He was not in the mood to deal with
his Ravyns’ roughhousing tonight.

He finished dressing quickly and came out of his closet and into

his main room. Tony, the leader of the Ravyns and his second-in-
command, sat casually in his favorite chair. When he saw him, he
jumped up and bowed to the Demon Prince. Salvatore resisted the
urge to shake him. He’d figured after two hundred years of service
Tony would drop the formality. But no, not his Ravyn.

Dageus stood by the unlit fireplace texting on his cell phone, the

new ring on his finger sparkling even from a distance. Alex had really
outdone himself with the quality of the diamond. Of course Salvatore
had searched his extensive collection for just the right one, but
Dageus didn’t need to know that.

Allasandro was reading through a black notebook, humming the

notes to the newest numbers that would be incorporated into Alex’s
new play in the fall. He and his lover, Damian, would be singing
several duets together. He flipped the page, paused, and then began

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humming again. Their wedding was only a few weeks away, but the
head of the line, Santiago, was not letting either him or his fiancé
slack on the work that had to be learned.

Germany sat with his back to the group, scribbling away in his

notebook. Salvatore didn’t know if it was a journal or poetry or what,
but the Ravyn was constantly writing, crossing out, and rewriting
whatever was inside of it.

“My lord, I need to talk to you.” Tony spoke, and Salvatore

groaned. Every time Tony began that sentence, he was about suggest
a new security measure that would, either restrict him even more than
he already was, or, drive him frigging crazy.

“Hear him out, my lord,” Ally seconded unexpectedly. Ally

usually hated Tony’s suggestions as much as the Prince himself. “For
once, he’s got his head screwed on right.” The jokester laughed as
Tony growled in his direction.

“We’ve all noticed that the Ravyns are growing further apart.

We’re getting our own priorities and families to take care of, and it is
becoming increasingly hard to arrange a guard schedule that doesn’t
leave at least one shift vulnerable to Desmond’s attacks. The Ravyns
and I have sat together and come up with a solution that will go a long
way in helping us keep you safe while not overly confining you to the
house during the duration,” Tony began.

Salvatore wondered what it would be like to just hang out with his

Ravyns as friends instead of protectors. He always had fun with them,
but he wondered if they’d feel a little freer to joke with him as they
did with each other if he was just one of the guys. The throne wasn’t
something he particularly wanted. Gods knew that he would prefer
just to be an average citizen, but duty dictated that he take up his
responsibility because his people were suffering. Desmond had turned
the relatively peaceful kingdom into a land full of power struggles and
desperation. The combination made the atmosphere volatile. He
forced himself to tune back into Tony’s conversation and away from
the stress on his shoulders.

Ravyn’s Destiny

21

 

“If this is so important, shouldn’t Druas be here as well?”

Salvatore wondered as Tony took a breath. He knew that he and the
shifters had been around when he’d gone to shower, but now none of
them were in sight.

“I’m getting to it, my lord,” Tony reassured. His coal-black hair

fell into his eyes as he glanced at each of the Ravyns and received a
nod of encouragement. “Our power is amplified by the bond that
connects it. It works like an amp to take in and then increase the
output of energy, but when we are farther apart or in smaller numbers,
the ability to increase our power decreases. Our solution is to add two
more permanent guards to your protectors and make them into new
Ravyns.”

Salvatore blinked. “Can’t we just increase the guard like we did in

Demontia?” he asked.

Tony shook his head. “We’d be running into the same problem

that we encountered while trying to guard you in Demontia. We have
no way of knowing who is trustworthy, and more often than not,
they’re more in the way than any real help. With two new Ravyns,
we’d be able to have instant communication, a full squad at all times,
and a reassurance of loyalty.”

“It is also harder to maintain the bond when there are more

people. The difficulty of remaining in sync with three other people is
hard enough. Isolation and determination were used in the past to
keep it together. Now it’s determination and love. Do you really think
you all could connect with someone other than your brothers?”

They all shared a look. They’d discussed this before coming to

him. Salvatore’s stomach tightened. He really didn’t want to admit the
real reason he wouldn’t accept more Ravyns.

“We already have two candidates in mind. We all get along with

them, and they’re used to our schedules. Their loyalty is
unquestionable because the vampires vouch for them already,” Ally
cut in. He gave Salvatore a satisfied smile. “In fact, Druas is briefing
them now on their new schedule.”

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“Michel and Cord?” Salvatore guessed. The two jaguar shifters

were perfect candidates if he were looking for new Ravyns. They had
been part of the Entertainer house since they were kits, and any of the
vampires therein would vouch for their continued loyalty. They had
good dispositions and got along well with everyone. Most
importantly, they were excellent fighters and had proven themselves
time and time again. They already almost matched the Ravyns in
stamina and strength.

His Ravyns beamed at his deduction. “Exactly!” Dageus crowed.

“It’s perfect, Salvatore.”

Perfect was a matter of opinion, in Salvatore’s mind. He sighed.

They’d thought everything out quite well. He cursed himself a
thousand times for having to admit this. The Demon Prince looked
around at each of his Ravyns in turn and sighed again.

“There is one flaw in your otherwise perfect plan, boys,” he

reasoned, stalling. They all frowned in unison. “I don’t have the
power to bind and create another Ravyn. My father was the one who
cast the spell and used his energy to mold your destinies with mine,
and it severely weakened him. In fact, it was fatal because he couldn’t
summon enough energy to fight off the assassin that Desmond sent
after him. I’m not a tenth as strong as my father was. I’m not even a
fully trained member of the Dragon House. It’s not that I don’t agree
with you, my Ravyns, or that I don’t wish to do it. It is that I cannot
do it.” He hung his head in shame, casting his eyes on the carpet. He
felt pathetic. The way his day was going he was going to be slitting
his wrists by suppertime.

“Maybe the vampires can help,” Dageus suggested after a

pregnant pause. “They’re some of the most powerful creatures in this
realm, and they bind creatures, sometimes whole clans, to them on a
regular basis. Perhaps Alex or Santiago would have a suggestion.”

“Yeah! What about that?” Ally seconded enthusiastically.
Salvatore shrugged delicately. “If you think they will have

suggestions. This magick is rather complex and—”

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“Score!” Ally shouted, interrupting his cautionary disclaimer.

“Does that mean, if we can do this, they’ll join the Ravyns?” He was
like a puppy with a bone.

Salvatore chuckled. “Yes, Allasandro. That’s what that means.”
“Hell yes!” Dageus echoed Ally’s enthusiasm, high-fiving the

other Ravyn as they congratulated one another on their brilliant idea
that had swayed the Prince.

“We’ve got to celebrate,” Ger piped up. The quietest of the bunch

rarely spoke, so he must’ve been quite excited about the prospect as
well.

“An excellent suggestion,” Tony approved. This was also unusual.

Tony hated taking Salvatore out. “A little celebration is in order, for
sure.”

Just then there was a knock on the door, and Druas let himself in.

“Hey, guys, how’d it go?” He glanced at the other Ravyns’ smiling
faces and gave a whoop of laughter. “Hell yes! Celebrate?”

“You read my mind, bro,” Ally drawled. He was beaming.

“Daylight?” he asked, referring to Alexander’s club.

“Daylight!” The others echoed. Salvatore stared at the group

helplessly. For once he didn’t feel like going out. It looked like he
would be keeping his word to his concubines after all…

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Chapter Three

The Ravyns were in especially jovial moods tonight. Even the

normally stoic Tony was smiling softly as they piled out of the SUV
and shuffled toward the VIP line in the side alley that ran beside the
club. It was always a short line. As soon as the vampire bouncers saw
Alex’s husband, Dageus, standing in line, they ushered them all
forward past disappointed faces and a few scowls. When the Master
vampire’s spouse showed up, everyone lost their place in line. It was
a nice perk.

Damian, his Ravyn Allasandro’s fiancé, flashed into existence

beside them as they filed into the door. He backed his lover up into
the pitch-black corner, and they disappeared from view for a few hot
seconds.

“Oh, for the love of the gods,” Tony grumbled. He opened his

mouth to deliver a scathing remark, but Salvatore silenced him.

“Enough. Leave them be. The club is safe. Grab your beer and a

table, and I’ll join you in a bit.” The Demon Prince walked steadily
toward the bar where he knew his bartender would be working
tonight. The fact that he knew his schedule and beelined for him every
time they hit the club would’ve probably been considered stalking in
multiple states, but he just couldn’t help himself. He was never too
forward or obvious about it and always extremely polite and
respectful. He didn’t know how else to be.

“Salvatore.” His younger cousin, Theron, grabbed his arm, his

gaze darting around wildly. He was the newest addition to his band of
merry men and still wasn’t used to their life on Earth. “Is it safe to be
wandering about by yourself?”

Ravyn’s Destiny

25

 

Salvatore petted his arm soothingly. “Of course. Daylight is the

safest place in the city outside Alex’s house. I promise. If there was
any danger, my Ravyns wouldn’t let either of us out of their sight.”
He gestured to the table where his Ravyns were seated, loudly talking
with one another as they passed around a pitcher of beer. “Go sit with
them and try and relax. You’ll feel safer among them.” He didn’t
know why Theron had agreed to come out with him. The younger
demon didn’t really seem like the type to hit the club on a nightly
basis. He was pretty reserved for royalty.

He sidled up to the bar and smiled when the bartender of his

dreams immediately came to him. His black hair was done up in
fashionable spikes tonight, making him look impish. His wide white
smile was framed with kissable lips which had two metal hoops off-
center on his bottom one. His brow was pierced as well, along with
his ears and, because Salvatore had stared enough to notice, pierced
nipples that showed faintly through his tight Ed Hardy muscle shirt.
Tattoos of trees decorated his arms, one tree in the thick of summer,
full of greenery and scattered wildlife, and the other in the last
vestiges of fall with bright orange, yellow, and brown leaves falling
around it. Crows sat among the branches of that tree. Six of them to
be precise. It had amused Salvatore when he’d first seen it. The roots
of both trees traveled down his arms, forearms, and circled around his
wrists.

His body was thin but graceful, and he stood almost a foot shorter

than most of his Ravyns, topping five five at most. What muscle he
did have was ripped and tight. When he bent over behind the bar,
Salvatore often had a hard time not salivating. His ensemble tonight
ended in tight, aged, designer jeans that were frayed in strategic
places. He was breathtaking.

“Hiya, good lookin’,” the bartender drawled. In their

conversations, Salvatore had learned that the accent was one of
America’s southern region’s dialects. His bartender was apparently
from Georgia. Wherever that was.

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“Hi,” Salvatore greeted, leaning forward in his seat.
“What can I getcha?” he asked. “Your usual?”
“Actually, I’d like something sweeter, if you please. A Jack and

Coke isn’t what I’m wanting.” Salvatore switched up his drink choice
just to get him talking. He loved listening to him talk. His punk rock
sex god was impossible not to stare at, but when he talked, he was
positively…what was the word Ally used all the time? Fuckable. That
was it. He was positively fuckable. His eyes drifted down the other
man’s lean frame of their own volition.

“Last time I checked, darlin’, the drink menu was not in my

jeans.” The bartender laughed at him. Salvatore had the gall to
wonder if that was a viable drinking option. He would definitely not
mind taking whatever fluid he could get off of the bartender’s tight
body. He noticed the sudden bulge in the bartender’s jeans as he
continued to stare. “Stop thinking about getting me naked,” he
murmured softly.

Salvatore blushed. Gods, had he really been staring so rudely at

the man? Sometimes he wondered about himself.

“How about some Dragon Berry punch?” the bartender asked

suddenly, changing the conversation.

“What’s in it?” Salvatore asked, grateful for the change in topic.
“It’s pretty simple. It has Dragon Berry rum and cranberry juice.

It’s a really sweet drink. Goes down pretty smooth and has a great
taste.”

Salvatore nodded. “Sounds great.”
A few minutes later his bartender sat his drink on a napkin in front

of him and went to check on the rest of his customers. The club
wasn’t busy yet because it was still early, nine o’clock. In another two
hours Salvatore would lose his chance to confront his bartender
because the place would be slammed. He took a sip of his drink.

“How is it?” His bartender had returned.
Salvatore nodded. “Not bad.” He paused. “Tell me your name.”

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27

 

The bartender smiled cheekily. “I think not, darlin’. It’s sexier

when it’s mysterious. You know?”

The Demon Prince shook his head and asked again. “Please, just

tell me your name.”

The smile faded to be replaced by a frown. “What do you want it

to be? Boyfriend? Lover?” So he had been aware that Salvatore had
been interested. The minx.

“I want you to be called my destiny,” Salvatore said formally. He

instantly wanted to kick himself. He sounded like a love-besotted
idiot. Oh wait…he was a love besotted idiot.

“All right. Destiny it is then. Call me Destin for short.”
Salvatore let out an inhuman growl that had the humans close to

him scooting back from the bar. His Destiny held his ground.

“You need to settle down,” the bartender said bravely.
Salvatore felt instant embarrassment. He blushed. “I’m sorry. I…”

He sighed. “I’ll be right back.” He scooted back from the bar and
went toward the booth where the guys he’d come in with waited for
him.

* * * *

Destin noticed that the vampires who worked as bouncers

followed him closely with their ever-vigilant gazes. It was odd. The
persistent beauty didn’t feel vampire or shifter, but he definitely felt
“other.” As the King of Faery, Destin should’ve been able to tell
what, but the identity eluded him. It was one of the reasons that he’d
avoided giving Salvatore his name on multiple occasions. There were
certain creatures which could use a name like his to command him to
do their bidding. No matter how horrible or against his morals.

He absently picked up a glass and started cleaning it. It was

already dry, but the constant motion with his hands helped his nerves.
Destin had always been hyperaware of the emotions of the handsome,
red-eyed man who practically stalked him at Daylight. Tonight he’d

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been experiencing nervousness, tenderness, and no small amount of
lust. It was a potent, sexy mix.

If he were at home, Destin would’ve taken Salvatore into his bed

and let the beauty fuck him until neither of them could move the next
day. But he wasn’t at home and Salvatore wasn’t Fae, and fucking
him was sure as hell not safe. He couldn’t afford to lose his heart to
an Earthbound creature that wouldn’t be able to come and go from
Underhill as Destin did.

People who came to Faery couldn’t leave Faery, and in time they

grew to resent the person who took them there to begin with. His ex-
Consort Terren had been a prime example. The kindest thing he had
done was infect him with the shifter’s curse, lycanthropy, and erase
his memory, and set him back on Earth. He still came into the bar
with pack members upon occasion, and Destin would watch him from
afar, grateful to know that, despite being separated from him and
unaware that they shared a history, Terren would retain his near
immortality and was seemingly perfectly content in his new life.

Yes. It was good that he kept Salvatore at arm’s length because

Destin knew how easy it would be to fall for a great guy like him. He
was handsome, charming, and polite. The near-loss of his temper a
moment ago was unusual and showed the depth of his feelings more
than anything else. He didn’t just want Destin for a night or even one
date. He wanted to take and possess and cherish the Fae King like no
other had done before him. The temptation was almost unbearable.

“Are you well, my lord?” The voice that sounded barely

intelligible over its hissing quality sounded to his right. He glanced up
to see one of his personal bodyguards hovering a foot off the ground.
They called his guards “shadows” for a reason. They were invisible to
everyone but him and his King-Consort. They were wraiths, bound to
him by a royal decree by his mother, the Fae Queen Amarillo, who
ruled the land of light and laughter, the realm of Faery which existed
in a layer of the Earth realm.

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29

 

He was the King of Underhill, the Summer Court. The realm that

existed before Earth was even formed. It was an old kingdom and one
that was a rough-and-tumble place because of the primitive magicks
that fueled it. His mother had left eons ago for finer, more delicate
realms. But when Destin had come of age, he’d returned to it and
taken his own Court with him, and he’d ruled there ever since.

“I’m doing fine. Clearly,” he reassured the shadow. The other

guard, Naut, was out there in the crowd somewhere but stayed hidden.
“I’m fixing to go on my fifteen-minute break.”

“Are you feeding well, my lord?” the shadow pressed. “You’re

looking a little pale and shaken. Shall we fetch you a particularly
strong-feeling human to satisfy you? Naut noticed a young man
whose wife left him a little earlier. I’m sure he’d be an excellent food
source if you would like the flavor of sadness. I also saw a girl who
has just graduated from some human school who is feeling joy
particularly strong. Lust isn’t a hard emotion to scare up around here,
either,” he added slyly. “Especially if you would happen to feed on
that young man who was sitting here earlier. You know the one I
mean. The pretty, red-haired one.”

Destin shook his head. “That would be a bad idea, and stop

prying. It isn’t polite. That pretty, red-haired man needs to stay away
from me, and I from him. He’s the last thing I…” He paused because
he was going to say “want” but, like the legends said, his kind
couldn’t lie. “He’s a complication that I don’t need right now.”

“Shall we take care of him, my lord?” the shadow asked. The way

they moved was a little disturbing, undulating like a vapor snake.

“Not presently,” Destin said. He couldn’t say never because

whatever he said was law to the shadows. If he told them “no,” then
no matter what happened or if Destin was in real danger from
Salvatore, they wouldn’t interfere. “If he gets out of hand, you may
need to get him off of me. I don’t need the exposure my power would
cause if I had to do it myself. He’s a bit bigger than me.”

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“Very well, my lord. Enjoy your break.” The shadow evaporated

into thin air.

Destin made his way to the side exit and stepped into the alley on

the other side of the building from the entrance line. It was secluded
from the street by a wooden door on the far end, and employees often
used this place as a haven against the club’s over-the-top atmosphere
and for smoking. He patted his pockets and found his pack of
handmade cigarettes from the tin tucked therein.

He lit the tip of a particularly fat rolled cig and took a deep breath.

Instantly the alley was filled with the scent of cloves and spices. It
was a special blend that he got from his kingdom, and humans were
constantly asking about his “brand.”

“Retreat doesn’t seem like you.” The silken voice did not seem

happy.

Destin turned, knowing who was there by the voice alone.

“Salvatore, what are you doing following me?”

“I need to talk to you. Just…let me get this off my chest, and I

promise I’ll leave you alone. Every time I try to in there”—he pointed
to the club—“you play cute or evade me. For once, just hear me out,
and I’ll leave it alone.”

Destin crossed his arms over his chest and looked up into

Salvatore’s face. He was a handsome devil. Most humans wouldn’t be
able to see in this sort of piss-poor lighting, but he could see like it
was full-on daylight, a benefit of ruling the Summer Court of Faery.

“Talk,” he commanded, intrigued. He’d never had someone so

determined in their pursuit of him who didn’t know who he really
was. Even Terren had been the pursued. Never had he chased after
Destin.

Salvatore looked Destin dead in the eyes as he spoke. “We’ve

known one another a few months now. I really enjoy our
conversations and our flirting, but I’ve got to be honest with you. I
don’t think it’s enough anymore. I think about you all the time. It’s
not just your looks, either. I mean…” He fumbled for words. “Of

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31

 

course you’re hot and your body is beautiful, but that’s not all I want.
I want to see you. I mean, outside the club. I want to see you as in
date you.” He reached out and took Destin’s hands in his, and the fae
allowed it. “I really like you. I like you a lot.”

Destin’s emotions churned with the confession. Lord and Lady, he

had butterflies in his stomach. He faltered in his resolution to remain
aloof. “This is not a good idea.” He whispered the words. He looked
up into vivid, red eyes and thought he was in a dream. No way could
this impossibly breathtaking creature be staring at him like he was
half in love already. Maybe just once…

Salvatore took the choice away from him as he leaned forward,

pulling Destin into the cradle of his arms and taking his lips in a kiss.
It was perfect. Salvatore groaned, and Destin echoed him. The spark
that flared between them swirled like a physical energy around them,
igniting the very air in sunbursts of light.

The fae’s mouth opened and admitted the seeking tongue of the

other man, and he surprised himself by letting out a gasp of surprise
and winding his hands under Salvatore’s shirt. He didn’t remember
when they’d stopped holding hands.

Salvatore’s hands came down to mold his ass cheeks through his

denim. Those were very knowledgeable hands by Destin’s estimation.
They massaged and teased the hard globes of his buttocks, clenching
in a manner that was reminiscent of the same movements that would
accompany sex. And they would be having sex. Destin’s weak
resistance was fading, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that
they would be having sex. Soon. He was resisting the urge to
transport them both to his bed right this instant.

“Salvatore,” he gasped. “Take me home. Take me home with

you.” Maybe it would be okay to have a lover on Earth. He’d just go
back and forth between his world and this one. He’d make it work,
and if they got serious…well, they’d cross that bridge when they got
to it.

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The other man groaned and pressed their bodies harder together.

His hard length pushed into the soft flesh of Destin’s abdomen.
Destin’s cock throbbed in time with his heart. He couldn’t wait to
have Salvatore buried to the hilt in his throbbing ass. He hadn’t had a
lover take him in some time, and he ached for Salvatore to be the one
to do so.

Salvatore’s whole body jerked, and he pulled back from their kiss.

Destin blinked in surprise. “What’s wrong, Salvatore? Did I say
something wrong?”

His would-be lover opened and shut his mouth, gaping like a fish.

Destin stared at him in confusion as his skin paled before his eyes.
Then something warm and wet dripped onto his chest, soaking
instantly through his shirt. He smelled the tangy scent of copper.

His gaze slipped from Salvatore’s eyes, which were suddenly

filled with pain, to the source of the wetness. Horror filled him. A
sharp, cool-gray blade protruded from the left of Salvatore’s chest,
and the silk shirt was decorated with a terrifying red bloom that wept
in crimson tears down the front. His knees buckled, and he collapsed
at Destin’s feet.

As his body fell, Destin’s sight was cleared to reveal his two

shadows standing behind his would-be lover, one without his blade.

“What have you done?” Destin shouted, kneeling beside Salvatore

and yanking the cursed blade out of his chest. He looked at the frost-
bitten edges of the wound and the blood still pouring out of it and
knew it was too late.

“You said if he didn’t cease you needed us to get him off you,”

one of his shadows reminded. The wraith sounded too pleased with
himself for his liking. “He possesses a tremendous untapped power.
This way you may have him as yours, my lord. And we will get a new
brother.”

It was then Destin knew they’d stabbed him with not just any

blade but a blade made with the very essence of what made a shadow
to begin with. Salvatore would die unless he acted quickly, and then,

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instead of death, an endless service as a wraith to their King in the
nether realm awaited him. He couldn’t let that happen. Salvatore
didn’t deserve such a fate.

Destin immediately went into action. “He will not become your

brother. Carry him while I open the portal.”

“You’re keeping him?” his other shadow asked incredulously.

“You said that you didn’t need to become involved with him. Let us
take him to our King, my lord. You needn’t worry yourself.”

Destin let his power blaze to its full glory, and the two shadows

fell to their knees in supplication. When he let his power out, it was as
if he was infused with the sun itself. It was difficult for creatures of
complete darkness to look upon him. Fae were creatures of elemental
magick, and as the King, he could channel it all.

“I said carry him,” Destin snapped.

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Chapter Four

Salvatore woke with a burning ache in his chest and a throbbing

heat in his cock. He groaned, the sound filling the room he was in. His
eyes blinked open. He had no idea where he was. Wherever it was, it
was huge.

He was reclined in an orgy-sized bed that could’ve comfortably fit

fifteen people. The comforter was a plush, hand-sewn, soft fabric of
some kind that was richly dyed in deep purples, blues, and greens. He
couldn’t see much beyond the canopy bed, but he got a sense of
vastness from the huge windows that were just visible behind the
gauzy, blue–and-purple curtains. Though, he wasn’t really paying
much attention to décor due to his rioting body.

His skin was tingling with energy. He gasped as the tingle focused

on his hard length. His hands clenched in the sheets and unclenched
as his body went through agonizing spasms. What the hell had
happened? He gasped. He needed to fuck. He needed to fuck now.

He inhaled sharply as the feelings intensified and he arched

against invisible caresses. “Ah! Damn!” He hissed. Suddenly he
orgasmed hard, shooting his seed against his abs and chest. It went on
and on in never-ending streams against his abdomen. He groaned
again, panting hard as the last quake left his body. It was the hardest
he’d climaxed in weeks, and yet he was still hard as a rock.

“It’ll pass,” a familiar voice soothed. He blinked, and Destin came

into focus on the edge of the bed farthest from him, crouched in a
position normally reserved for gargoyles. It looked odd to be
crouched like that when you were human.

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35

 

Salvatore screamed again as another orgasm swamped him. It felt

like a deity was wringing his body of seed. He wanted it to stop, and
yet he wanted it to never stop. Ever. He squeezed his eyes shut tight
as his hips swayed of their own volition, thrusting up against an
invisible force. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and other
fluids now.

“He’s a virile creature,” a feminine voice purred to his right. He

was having trouble focusing his eyesight on anything. It would return
to normal for an instant and then blitz out where the world was seen
in impressions of heat and scent. All the while the tremendous heat
burned him from the inside out.

“He definitely wasn’t human,” another, masculine, voice agreed.

“Lord and Lady, look at that cock.”

Salvatore was beyond caring that he had an audience for his

orgasmic mind fuck. He just wanted some sweet release somehow. He
reached for his cock only to have his hand swatted away.

“Not yet. The heat has to pass, or you’ll prolong it,” Destin

reprimanded. Funny. He hadn’t seen the bartender move. Yet, here he
was. Within arm’s length.

“Need. Want. Gods!” he shouted. His eyes rolled back into his

head as yet another wave of pleasure hit him. He felt wrung out.

“I’ve never seen such a smooth transition before.” The comment

sounded complimentary, but he couldn’t tell who said it or whether or
not it was male or female. “The Lord and Lady have blessed him with
power. His wings are magnificent.” Wings? What wings?

“They’ll probably assume a different form when he’s finished.

But you are right. He is beautiful like that,” Destin agreed, running a
hand down Salvatore’s naked chest. The Demon Prince shuddered in
want. He whimpered and reached a hand out only to find Destin once
again out of reach. What magick was this?

“He craves you, my King,” the same female voice commented.

“Was he a lover?”

“Not yet,” Destin replied. “Not ever, now.”

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“Such a shame, my King,” another masculine voice commented.

Salvatore’s eyes came back into focus to see Destin nodding his head
in agreement.

“A pity indeed.” Destin’s pretty, brown eyes met his. “When he’s

finished and the true hunger seizes him, service him. You and Quis.
Make him satisfied before he slumbers. He deserves it.” In another
blink he disappeared.

Anger more hot and thick than Salvatore had ever experienced

before boiled from the depths of his being. It detonated in the form of
sound, a scream of rage that ended in an animal sound of a roar. He
reached for the first body he came to.

* * * *

Destin watched from the relative safety of the place beyond the

curtains as Salvatore exploded into action. He rolled to his feet on the
bed and launched himself at Mar, the closest of the fae he’d left in bed
with him. He pressed his palm to the heel of his erection, trying to
stave off the pressure building there. The Fae King wanted nothing
more than to go back through the gauzy curtains and offer himself to
Salvatore’s hunger. Experience held him back. Salvatore was not
going to be happy about the new arrangement that Destin had
implemented to save his life.

He should have left, but to turn away from the sight of a naked

Salvatore caught up in such a feral hunger took more willpower than
even he possessed. His long, red hair hung down his back in perfect,
crimson waves, despite the ordeal he’d gone through. His eyes
glowed a red, feral light, and his body shone with the familiar sparkle
of a newly born fae. Fiery-red dragon’s wings protruded from his
back, and his bared teeth held a new set of razor-sharp canines. Destin
had been right. Salvatore had never been human. He had a strong line
of dragon somewhere in his past, and it came out strongly during his
transition.

Ravyn’s Destiny

37

 

The King reached for the curtain to draw it aside and help Mar,

who was struggling against the awesome power of the newly born fae,
but he needn’t have worried. Salvatore gripped the back of Mar’s
head and dropped his mouth down on his in a brutal kiss. Destin’s
breath caught. His hunger was showing a distinct favor toward the
emotion of lust, and, Lord and Lady, Destin wanted to feed him.

He watched in fascination as Salvatore pushed Mar away from

him, down on all fours, his ass upturned for his pleasure. Mar groaned
in obvious enjoyment, helping the nearly crazed man yank his loose
pants down to his ankle to expose his already fluttering star. Destin
did part the curtain then. He wanted to watch. Needed to watch.
Salvatore would be a fine addition to his Court.

“Oh!” Mar groaned, pushing his hips back. Salvatore snarled at

him, baring a mouthful of fangs, and mounted him. His wings flared
wide as his eyes slammed shut and his head fell back. Another animal
sound of pleasure filled the room. His beautiful, thick cock was buried
to the hilt inside Mar, who thrashed with enthusiasm at being so
quickly skewered.

Destin echoed his moan, gripping his own length through his soft

pants. He nearly came from the sight alone. The power of Salvatore’s
lust drowned him in its intensity, and the erotic nature of his response
to the turning made him as equally mindless. Destin hissed as
Salvatore set a brutal pace, thrusting in and out of Mar’s pert backside
with an intensity that bordered on violence.

“Destiny.” Salvatore growled, tossing his head like the animal

he’d become in that moment. His eyes sought and found the Faery
King’s through the curtain. “Destiny. My. Destiny. Mine!” He came
with another roar, and Destin jetted in answering pleasure into the
confines of his pants.

Mar must’ve joined them in their orgasm because the level of lust

in the room dipped ever so slightly. Destin watched in fascination as
he was shoved off of Salvatore’s length and Quis was grabbed and put
in his place. Mar stroked his softening cock languidly from his

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position on the bed as he watched Salvatore mount his friend and
begin the same hard pace he’d set with him. It was an incredible show
of rare animal beauty.

Salvatore’s eyes once again met Destin’s, and he froze, buried

inside Quis. “Destiny.” He growled. It was a command.

“No,” Destin whispered. He didn’t sound very convincing, even to

his own ears.

“Yes. Mine,” Salvatore snarled. His wings fluttered in irritation. If

he didn’t watch it, Salvatore could spiral out of control very quickly.
The first rule of thumb when changing a mortal, even partially, into a
fae was to give them what they needed. Their bodies would be giving
all the road maps to their needs during this time.

“Yours,” Destin agreed. He deliberately pulled the front of his

pants down to expose his sticky cock, which was still hard from
Salvatore’s display. He gave a stroke to the tip, and Salvatore growled
in approval. Quis whimpered, trying to move to get his own relief, but
Salvatore’s strong hands on his hips stayed him.

“Come,” Salvatore rumbled, beckoning the Faery King closer.
Destin shook his head. “No. Let me watch. Let me watch you take

them. You’re beautiful. Show me how virile you are.” This seemed
like acceptable logic to Salvatore because he nodded and went back to
fucking Quis. Destin had to argue with himself for a good five
minutes to keep from stroking his dick to completion again.
Salvatore’s unwavering eyes were going straight to his head.

“Watch. You watch,” Salvatore commanded as Destin went to

turn away. The Faery King sighed. This was torture. He didn’t want to
watch. He wanted to fuck. He sat on the very edge of the bed and
watched Salvatore work his cock into his subject.

“You should go to him,” Mara suggested where she leaned into

one of the posts that held up the canopy.

“No,” Destin said stubbornly, his eyes glued to Salvatore. “He’s

going to need more, though. He’s not reacting in the normal way. Go

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to the Court and collect at least four more that would be willing to lay
with a newly born fae.”

She nodded her head, and her gaze flicked between Salvatore and

Destin. “And what will you do?” she wondered.

Destin swallowed and gripped his cock hard as Salvatore bit off

another snarl as he came. “I’m going to watch.”

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Chapter Five

The Ravyns burst into the alleyway that Salvatore had disappeared

into just the moment before, clutching their chests in agony. They’d
felt their Prince’s injury the second it had happened.

“I’m so stupid. So fucking stupid.” Tony swayed before

collapsing to his knees on the hard cement. He reached out a
trembling hand to touch the pool of dark-red liquid that was soaking
the ground where their Prince had last stood. “I knew better.” His
hands came away smeared with the stuff, the stuff which he was not
thinking of as blood very deliberately, and brought it to his nose. The
scent hit his nostrils and a scream ripped itself from his throat. He had
failed. They all had failed.

The ache in his chest where the Ravyns’ bond had once been

filled them all with a shared emptiness. They clung to one another,
weeping wildly, uncaring of any manner of appearance. Tony backed
himself into a wall and slid to his knees. He didn’t know what to do.
He always knew what to do. He realized vaguely that he was babbling
his thoughts aloud but couldn’t seem to get a grip long enough to
stop. Everything was a haze of sensation.

The vampires teleported in a second later. Tony watched as Alex

and Damian tried to console their hysterical mates, but they were
having none of it.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Christ, baby, you’re scaring me. What’s

wrong?” Damian demanded as Ally collapsed against his chest, thick
tears streaming down his face and a constant stream of pain-filled
sounds issuing from his throat.

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41

 

“He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone.” Germany didn’t seem to

believe it. He clutched his own arms as if he was afraid that he was
going to fracture apart at any second. Tony ached to go to his brother
but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate.

“Who’s gone?” Alex added his voice, shaking Dageus as his bride

started making a keening sound of agony. Michel and Cord held a
thrashing Druas between them as his internal pain turned into
violence, and he struck out again and again against the hard flesh of
the shifters. Tony didn’t know what to do. Everything ached. His
chest felt like someone had detonated a bomb inside its cavity.

“Salvatore,” a new voice whispered. “Salvatore’s dead.” Tony

looked up to see the newest addition of the group and the last heir to
the Dragon Throne standing in the doorway. He was looking at the
Ravyns but addressing the vampires. How odd. “That’d be the only
reason they’d be acting like this.” Theron’s eyes were sad. “They
won’t survive the loss of him. A bond like that, once broken, is
something you don’t recover from.” Tony clutched his chest. Theron
was right about that. He’d never forgive himself even if he lived
through this.

Damian and Alex blanched. So they’re finally getting the picture.

Tony thought bitterly. “Let’s get them home,” Damian suggested,
pulling Ally and Germany into his arms and teleporting them out of
the alley.

Alex nodded and picked up Dageus and pulled Tony into his

arms. The vampire smelled like sweat and sorrow, an appropriate
combination in Tony’s mind. Is this what shock feels like? He
shivered as a coldness set in that had nothing to do with the
temperature. Gods, he just wanted to sleep. He trembled and leaned
into Alex, trying to warm himself off the vampire’s body heat. Alex
glanced toward the shifters. “Can you get Dru back home?” The two
shifters nodded silently, and Druas raged on.

* * * *

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“What a mess,” Damian whispered quietly, holding a sleeping

Allasandro in his arms. It had been early dawn before the tears had
finally dried up for most of them, and they’d adamantly refused to
separate. They were all piled in Salvatore’s California King Bed like a
basket of puppies. Dageus and Alexander hadn’t wanted to let their
lovers out of their sight either, so the vampires had made the decision
to spend the day with them. Damian continued to stroke Ally’s back
even in sleep because, though it was a deep sleep, it was troubled. He
whimpered and tensed at regular intervals like he was caught in the
midst of a nightmare.

“Do you think he’s really dead?” he added as his adopted son,

Dageus, snuggled to his side in between Alex and himself.

Alex gave a pained shrug. “They seem to think so.” He leaned

down and kissed Dageus’s forehead, pushing the hair away from his
face.

“Something doesn’t feel right to me,” Damian said. “There was no

body.”

“There was a ton of blood,” Alex reminded. “Most creatures

would have trouble healing from that blood loss. It would take a
matter of minutes to bleed out from such a wound.”

“Still doesn’t make sense. Why would they haul off a dead body?”
“For a trophy most likely,” Tony spoke up. He had fallen asleep

reclining against the headboard to the right and had apparently woken
up because of their talking. “Desmond would want the people to
know without a doubt that he was gone.” His breath hitched and he
was wracked by sudden sobs. Alex reached out a hand to comfort
him, but he shied away from it.

After the sobs subsided, he continued. “Under normal

circumstances, if a bound warrior’s ward dies, they follow him in
ritual suicide.” The vampires inhaled sharply. There was no way in
hell they’d let that happen. “However, he entrusted us to take care of
Theron, and since he is the last heir, we will do so. When we return

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43

 

the kingdom to Theron by killing Desmond, we will have avenged our
Prince and we can choose rest if we wish.”

“That’s not the only thing that is strange about this situation,”

Damian continued stubbornly. “I didn’t smell any other demons
except Salvatore in that alley. Even if they made a bolt-hole and
vanished, they would’ve left a scent behind. I guarantee you if we go
back tonight there still won’t be a smell.”

“It doesn’t matter, you asshole!” Druas snapped awake. He lunged

toward Damian, only to be held back once again by Michel and Cord.
“He’s dead! Don’t you fucking get it? He’s dead! The only reason we
had for existing for the past two thousand years, endless incarnations,
is dead!” He dissolved into tears, but his shouts had awoken the rest
of them.

“Don’t talk to Damian like that!” Ally and Dageus yelled in

unison.

“I’ll talk to him however I want. He’s trying to play detective and

all that matters is he’s—”

“Stop saying that! I don’t want to hear it anymore!” Germany

snapped. He pressed his hands over his ears. “I can’t take you saying
it like that anymore. Just stop. Please. Just stop.”

“We need to find those fucking Doves of Desmond’s and rip their

bleeding hearts out,” Druas continued.

“Shut the hell up, Druas,” Tony commanded. “Damian’s right. If

the Doves had been there, we would’ve smelled them. Dageus
would’ve smelled them, even if we didn’t.”

“So?” Druas snapped. “Who the hell cares who killed him? The

fact is that he is dead!”

“He might not be dead if someone was aiming to capture instead

of kill him, you idiot!” Tony rarely yelled like that, but it seemed he
had just about reached the limits of his patience. They all sat up for
that. “We need to go investigate tonight, but until then, we have to
operate like Salvatore is still alive, and he’s put us in charge of Prince
Theron’s welfare. Until we know for sure…”

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“But the bond,” Germany whispered. “The bond is broken.”
“It has been broken before,” Tony reminded.
“Only between us, never between us and him,” Dageus voiced.
“It is possible.”
“What if you’re wrong?” Druas whispered.
“You can’t think like that.” Ally let go of Damian so that he could

hug his brother.

“What do we have left?” Druas asked a little desperately. They all

looked to their leader for an answer, and he didn’t disappoint.

“We have hope.”

* * * *

Theron made sure most everyone was asleep before he locked his

doors and prayed a small protection spell into existence before he
began. He glanced at his statue of Sucellos and nearly whimpered. As
a former priest of the Green Order, he and his god Sucellos had
shared a bond that went beyond simple prayer. He was a god of nature
and of harvest, prosperity on demon kind. Sucellos would not approve
of what he was doing.

He took out a large, ornate bowl that had diamonds encrusted on

the edges of it. He used it for scrying most often, but he could also use
it to communicate with the demon realm through it.

He filled it with water and sat down to concentrate. Within

seconds, the surface shimmered and rippled, changing the scenery
from the bottom of the bowl to the royal palace in Demontia’s capital
city of Pandemonium.

“Hello, little brother,” Desmond sneered. “Nice of you to make

your report. Late.” He sat nonchalantly on his throne, a palace servant
rubbing his feet with fine oils. His brother was a handsome man. He
shared the family’s traits of bright-red hair and smooth skin. But his
eyes were his mother’s, a shade of jade instead of garnet. He picked

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45

 

something out from his fingernails and flicked it aside. “I almost lost
my patience with you, and that would be tragic for your friends.”

Theron’s heart constricted as he thought of Kith, Kin, and Kit.

The triplet Cranes, his bodyguards and versions of the Ravyns, had
been captured by Desmond months ago and been held effectively
hostage so that Theron would go along with this farce. He hadn’t
meant to betray his cousin or the Ravyns whom he found to be the
kindest people in the world, but he had no choice. He knew without a
shadow of a doubt that Desmond wouldn’t hesitate to kill his Cranes
if he didn’t obey his older brother’s dictates to the letter. He’d already
killed the others. Those three were his last, and he desperately wanted
to save them.

“I have good news,” he murmured.

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Chapter Six

Salvatore woke for the second time several days later. He

groaned. His whole body was sore. He never wanted to fuck anyone
again. Ever. The past three days was a blur of faceless bodies and
insane urges. He’d never felt so alive and out of control and so damn
powerful. It had thrummed through him like a tidal wave of energy.
The feeling had intensified when Destin’s eyes had devoured his and
he’d given forth his seed in unison with Salvatore. He hadn’t touched
him, though.

He slowly opened his eyes as his stomach rumbled in hunger.

Destin was reclined beside him in bed, fully dressed for the first time.
He wore loose-fitting suede pants and an equally loose-fitting, cream,
vest-like shirt. The outfit didn’t seem to go with his normal attire and
tattoos and piercings. He seemed like two different people merged
into one.

“Hi there,” Destin greeted. He was stroking Salvatore’s hair

rhythmically as if he was lost in thought.

“Hi,” Salvatore returned. He put his nerveless fingers to his

forehead. “What happened?” He felt like he’d missed something
important. This definitely wasn’t a bartender’s apartment. The décor
alone indicated they weren’t even in Haven anymore. Furthermore,
unless Destin had a harem he was keen on sharing with his new
would-be boyfriend, all the people he fucked were independently
coming here to help him through…whatever the hell that had been.
He wasn’t dwelling on his behavior these past couple days. He’d been
a complete animal.

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47

 

Destin tensed. “You were stabbed,” he said simply. Salvatore’s

eyes bulged.

“Last time I checked, a hard cock was not a symptom of being

stabbed.”

“I healed you.”
The bottom dropped out of Salvatore’s stomach, and he struggled

to sit up. He didn’t want to be flat on his back to receive bad news.
“Don’t tell me you’re a vampire and you had to change me or
whatever. And who the hell stabbed me?” Destin helped him struggle
to a sitting position.

“I’m not a vampire.” The relief was quick on his face. “My

bodyguards stabbed you. They mistook what you did as something
threatening. They’ve been reprimanded. I’m sorry.”

“Why would a bartender need a bodyguard?” Salvatore

demanded. He had a bad feeling about where this was going. His
anxiety spiked. “And why would he stay in this massive of a space? I
really don’t think this is a studio apartment. Is it a studio apartment?”

“I’m not just a bartender, Salvatore. Please calm down.”
It was then Salvatore noticed the gold-and-silver circlet that rested

ever so gently on Destin’s head. He knew exactly what the hell that
meant. He had one himself.

“You’re a royal? A royal what?” Salvatore asked a tad

hysterically.

“I’m a faery,” Destin said softly. That hadn’t been what Salvatore

had been expecting. He started laughing. “It’s not funny, Salvatore.”

“Like Tinker Bell? That kind of fairy? Please tell me you stay my

size.” Salvatore cracked up again. Even though Destin was starting to
look annoyed, he couldn’t help himself. “That’s such a relief. I
thought you were something dangerous.” He wiped his eyes to get rid
of the tears of mirth.

“Tinker Bell?” Destin asked dryly. “I don’t think you have a true

understanding of faery kind.”

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“I have limited experience with them outside of Peter Pan

memorabilia,” Salvatore agreed.

Destin took a deep breath and took the plunge. “Faery are

elemental beings older than any species in any known universe. We’re
very hard to kill and very close to the visceral side of all things. We
have our worlds tucked beneath others. My mother’s world is in the
Earth realm, and there are others, even one in Demontia if memory
serves. It was run by one of my cousins last time I checked. Most of
the time natives don’t know we’re there, but our impact on the world
is significant. We bring ancient magick into the realm. My realm is
Underhill, the original wildlands of the fae.” He paused. “We have
certain things we get from whatever world we’ve attached our
kingdoms to. On Earth, my mother’s people take energy from the
humans. Their emotions are a potent form of consumable energy.”

“Is that why you work as a bartender? To feed off human

emotions?” Salvatore understood the concept. He knew of some
demons who had to do the same thing.

“In part,” Destin hedged. “Because I am the monarch of

Underhill, I have the ability to go into other realms and feed as I wish.
Most of the fae of Underhill can’t leave here.”

Salvatore frowned. “Why not?”
“Underhill is the only independent Faery Kingdom left in

existence. It was one of the reasons fae left this realm to live in others.
An independent kingdom must feed on itself to maintain its energy.
My courtiers must feed on each other. Every emotion in my kingdom
is game for food. They must feed on another fae of this realm or else
their magick slowly drains away and they die. Needless to say, they
don’t travel much. I’m the exception rather than the rule. Let’s see,
what else? Uh, well, lust is probably the most popular emotion
because it requires relatively little effort to produce and reproduce on
a grand scale. You demonstrated a leaning toward it when you went
through the transition, so I don’t see you having a problem doing it
again.”

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49

 

Salvatore liked that idea. Especially when Destin was so close to

him. Surprisingly, his body stirred under the sheet. He purred, literally
purred, and leaned in to Destin’s prone body.

“Whoa. No. Slow down. Not me. You don’t get me,” Destin said

immediately, disappearing and reappearing out of his reach.

Salvatore frowned. “Why not? I thought we agreed to date.”
“Salvatore, it’s not so simple anymore. I wouldn’t just be a Faery

King dating a human he met at a nightclub on Earth. Now you’re part
of my Court and are about to experience an entirely new way of life.”

“I’m not a part of your Court,” Salvatore corrected. That sick

feeling was back in his stomach.

“Unfortunately, you are now. Your injury was mortal, Salvatore.

You wouldn’t have survived it. I felt obligated to save you since it
was my fault that you were injured to begin with. I went to extreme
lengths, lengths I wouldn’t have normally gone to.”

“The transition,” Salvatore whispered. His stomach was churning

now.

Destin nodded. “I changed a fundamental part of who you were

into fae. You’re now so much a part of my Summer Court here at
Underhill that you can’t survive on the other side without someone of
our Court to feed from, and until you learn to control all your new
impulses, you have to stay here.”

“I am not your prisoner!” Salvatore snapped. He was pissed that

he was too sore to stand. He wanted to confront Destin head-on. “I’d
rather have died than been made a prisoner for the rest of my life. The
prison I was in at least had an expiration date. I mean, it wasn’t a very
firm one, but it was there nonetheless.”

Destin stood with a sigh and turned his back on the enraged

Demon Prince. “I’m sorry. It’s very hard on humans to be converted
to fae. Most of my Court was surprised that you survived. If you
hadn’t been part dragon, you probably would not have.” He paused
again, partially turning back toward Salvatore. “Speaking of which,
what were you? Now that you’re here, I see no reason not to ask.”

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“What’s your name?” Salvatore countered. Destin shook his head.
“I am really and truly your Destiny, Salvatore. I don’t need

another name.”

“Then it’s none of your business what I am.” Salvatore sniffed

with every ounce of his royal disdain. A resentment over this new
cage filled him. With it, a surge of energy flooded his being, taking
with it the soreness he’d been feeling. He rolled to his feet and stalked
after Destin.

“This is that hunger I told you that you’d have to learn to control.”

Destin backed away slowly. “This room is yours. When you’re strong
enough, ask Mar to take you around to see the rest of the palace and
the gardens.”

“You gave this to me. Take responsibility.” Salvatore growled. He

felt like he was entitled to something other than an “I’m sorry” from
the Fae King. He hated cages but hated being told he had no choice
even more. Even with the Ravyns he had some sort of choice.

“I can’t take you as a Consort,” Destin said. His eyes were wide.

So he’d never expected Salvatore to demand he be the one to sate his
hunger? What utter stupidity. Didn’t the faery get that Salvatore still
wanted him beyond anything else? His obsession certainly hadn’t
gone away. Destin played with his lip piercing nervously. It was good
to see the fae so off guard.

“Why not? Here or there makes little difference.” Salvatore

mirrored his actions, and if Destin turned his back Salvatore would be
on him.

“I’m gone for weeks at a time. I wouldn’t be here to take care of

your needs.”

“Then take me with you. Take me back home.”
“No. Salvatore, it’s dangerous over there for you right now.”
“Take me home, Destin. Take me to bed. Just fucking take me.”

The burning ache of arousal was back in full force, and Salvatore
became aware of another consciousness that was almost merged with
his. It didn’t feel like another mind trying to influence or invade his

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51

 

own. In fact, it almost felt like it was another him. A more primitive
him.

Ours, the being said. The growl was a reptilian rumble. Take.

Ours. Salvatore felt his top and bottom canines elongate like a
shifter’s. He was hard as a rock now, and he knew his eyes were
glowing even if he couldn’t see them. They’d done that ever since he
was young. If he were angry or aroused, they glowed like a pair of
torches.

Destin inhaled sharply, and he seemed to be experiencing an inner

dilemma of his own because his hands were clenching and
unclenching at his sides as if he were resisting the urge to reach out to
Salvatore. “I can’t–I can’t make you my Consort.” He stumbled
through the sentence and managed to trip over a small table that was
seated beside a brown leather couch Salvatore hadn’t seen before.

“You better take responsibility for this, Destiny,” Salvatore

snarled. He reached out and grabbed the shorter man’s arms and
pulled him flush against his body. “Mine!” He growled primitively.
The other being inside him decided to voice its opinion. “You said
watch. You watched. Now, you’re Mine.”

Destiny blinked. “How do you speak the ancient tongue?” he

asked incredulously. “Only the royal family knows that language.”
Salvatore inhaled his scent, drawing it into his lungs like he was
inhaling one of Tony’s flavored cigarettes until his head spun with a
nicotine-like high.

Salvatore shrugged. It didn’t really matter. Destin was just trying

to distract him. “I have no idea how I know it.” He lowered his head
and captured Destiny’s lips in a kiss. It was a brutal clash of tongues
and teeth and Destin loved it. Secretively. Sort of. He moaned but cut
the noise off as quickly as he could. Salvatore smirked against his lips
as Destin pressed his body against Salvatore’s as the bigger male’s
cock dug into his stomach.

* * * *

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Salvatore growled triumphantly. This is how he wanted Destin,

hot, alive, close. The way he was supposed to be. Salvatore had been
in love with the bartender for weeks now, but only now did he
understand the true depth of that emotion. It went beyond a simple
crush. He wanted to claim Destin before the world. Make him his in
any way he could. Show him with every inch of his body just how
much he did love him. His hand dug into Destin’s hips, and the
demon howled at the hard press of flesh against his thigh. Yes, he
thought.

The Fae King’s hands were tangled in Salvatore’s red tresses, and

he was panting against his mouth. A few short steps would put them
back in range of the bed, and then Salvatore would have him in just
the position he’d needed him in for the past three days. Hell, if he was
honest, longer than that. At first the bartender had been a welcome
distraction from his self-induced imprisonment, and later he’d been a
friend of sorts who he talked to when the Ravyns went out.
Somewhere along the way he’d become something very precious. The
only one to seem to like him without knowing who and what he was.

The bed hit the back of Destin’s knees, and it seemed to knock

him out of the spiral into Salvatore’s bed. “S–stop,” Destin said
against Salvatore’s lips. Then he leaned up and plunged his tongue
back into Salvatore’s mouth to mate with it for a few minutes. Talk
about mixed signals. Salvatore pressed him back into the welcoming
embrace of the bed and triumphed at the thrill of finally having Destin
there.

“As your King, I command you to stop,” Destin groaned

desperately. His circlet was tossed aside, and his shirt torn from his
body.

“As my King, you can command me nothing. We’re equals, you

and I,” Salvatore and his new alter ego said in unison. He pressed a
line of kisses down Destin’s throat, making him shiver. Self-
preservation must’ve kicked in because it was then he started yelling.

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53

 

“Guards!” he shouted. Wings exploded out of Salvatore’s back,

flaming wide in fury. His vision zoned out into shades of heat and
sound once again.

“You would dare have someone else interfere?” Salvatore

demanded. They heard pounding footsteps.

“You’re scaring me!” Destin screamed, looking Salvatore dead in

the eyes.

Salvatore felt himself pale, and he was immediately across the bed

from Destin. He wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked back
and forth. “I’m sorry,” He whispered, shutting his eyes tight. “I’m so
sorry. Forgive me. I…just want you so much.” He glanced at Destin,
who had propped himself on his elbows. He closed his eyes to block
out the image of Destin partially dressed. His body still throbbed, and
the being inside him, the other him, still growled at him that Destin
was a liar and his body showed the truth of his desire. The hard cock
was all the evidence his other self needed to see.

“It’s the hunger. I promise it’ll get easier.” Destin’s warm hands

were suddenly petting his head and the smell of his sweat had
Salvatore growling all over again. He opened his eyes and looked up.

“I’ve never felt so…” He searched for the right word.
“Raw? Instinctual? Animalistic? It is the core of what a faery is.

What you are now.” Destin leaned forward and kissed his lips gently.
“Allow my Court to teach you to gentle your beast and to let it rage.”

“I didn’t want to lose my virginity to some guy I didn’t know,”

Salvatore murmured, leaning against Destin. The King cradled his
head against his chest. Salvatore heard his heart skip a beat as he
spoke.

“You were a virgin?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Salvatore felt his cheeks start to burn

and nuzzled the soft skin of Destin’s chest, licking the nipple an inch
from his tongue. The fae hissed, and Salvatore smiled. “I’d never
been with another guy before.”

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Destin was silent a long while. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.” He

waved a hand and Salvatore saw the shadows move and then
disappear. What the hell was that? This place had more secrets than a
fun house. “Tell me your name, Destin,” Salvatore demanded, leaning
up and pressing a wet kiss to Destin’s neck.

“It’s not important,” Destin hedged, tilting his head to expose

more to Salvatore’s kisses. Salvatore smiled at that. Destin could deny
it all he wanted but he wanted Salvatore’s attentions just as badly as
Salvatore wanted to give them to him. “Tell me why the vampires
were guarding you. Does it have something to do with you claiming
to be my equal?”

“You have your secrets. I have mine.” Salvatore nibbled at

Destin’s pulse. “I want you to take me home after I learn to control
this.” In this statement he was unyielding. He would do whatever he
could to get back to Earth. His Ravyns were probably making
themselves sick with worry. He couldn’t feel the bond between them
at all.

“I can’t promise that. How about I promise to discuss it with you

then? Until then, enjoy Underhill and its delights.” Destin extricated
himself from Salvatore’s grip.

The Demon Prince’s body was building again. The brief respite at

the thought of harming Destin had passed now that he knew Destin
was all right. His thoughts were getting hazy and simpler, more
animal. He tried to reply to Destiny’s statement, tried to focus on their
conversation, but instead, his mind was focusing on what his body
demanded.

“Need.” He groaned, gripping the tip of his now-rock-hard

erection and pumping his fist. A drop of pre-cum oozed from the slit,
and he watched in fascination as Destin leaned down and lapped at
the crown. This caused another burst of fluid to erupt from the tip, and
Destin obligingly suckled that away as well. The other Salvatore went
crazy, pushing against the bonds of self-control that Salvatore had
erected to pull himself away from Destin the moment before.

Ravyn’s Destiny

55

 

“Delicious. Just as I knew you would be.” Destin pressed a kiss to

the head of Salvatore’s cock and disappeared. Salvatore screamed.

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Chapter Seven

Mar and Quis were available to Salvatore at any moment of the

day. And they were never slow in coming to Salvatore’s side when
the urge to fuck struck him. It struck him often during those first two
weeks. Sometimes they came to him alone, but oftentimes they’d
come to him in pairs to stave off the worst of the hunger. He’d learned
to gorge himself on the emotions that they gave to him. Admiration,
enjoyment, and, most of all, lust. Destin had assigned others to his
bed as well. Some were trained to expand his sexual horizons in ways
he would’ve been very uncomfortable with in his other life.

The longer he spent in Underhill, the less that life outside of it

seemed to be real. It was like anything outside Underhill was a dream
and this was his only reality. Only the thoughts of his Ravyns kept
him from slipping into the complete, lust-filled haze that he’d grown
accustomed to. However, no matter how many people he slept with or
how many ways he’d learned to please men, he was never truly
satisfied. No matter how good the orgasm or how many times he
came, he craved Destiny. He and his other self were more on the same
page now, no longer fighting for control but cooperating for their
mutual satiation. They didn’t always agree, but they agreed on one
thing always. Destiny was theirs and he would be in their bed soon.

“I think I want to try and explore the palace today.” Salvatore

spoke to Quis, whose blond head was currently bobbing up and down
on his hard erection.

“Are you sure that’s wise, my lord?” Quis asked with his mouth

full of Salvatore. At least that’s what Salvatore thought he said. He
couldn’t be sure because the words were garbled. The whole lot of

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them had taken to calling him “my lord” for some odd reason. Though
he didn’t understand the exact logistics of how the court perceived
him, in his conversations with Mar the fae had stated that he was
treated like nobility for several reasons. Salvatore was kept in
luxurious suites, turned by the King himself, and had all the courtiers
warned off popping his backside cherry, therefore he must be a very
important fae. Salvatore didn’t get it, but whatever.

The cautionary note in his tone was probably due to what had

happened the last time Salvatore had decided to venture beyond his
bedchamber of glass and plush fabric. He’d taken three of the fae
palace guards right outside in the hallway. One of them had
apparently been fantasizing to pass the shift a little faster and
Salvatore had picked it up. The hunger had swamped him, and he’d
been the center of attention in yet another orgy courtesy of the curse
that Destin had saddled him with. Salvatore couldn’t be angry with
him over it because it had, after all, saved his life, but the primitive
hungers were a pain in the ass to control. It didn’t matter to him now,
though. He was just biding his time. He’d make Destin pay for every
lost second of sanity with an equal number of strokes into his hot
cavern. His body jumped at the thought. He couldn’t wait.

“I think I’m ready. Ride me. I want to finish so that we can be on

our way.” Quis crawled up his body like he had no joints. He was lean
and built similarly to Destiny, but he moved even more gracefully if
that were possible.

“As you wish, my lord.”

* * * *

The palace of Underhill was a massive structure of stone and fine

gems. It was a nerd’s wet dream and looked exactly like something
that would come out of a Dungeons and Dragons role-playing game.
It wasn’t just the palace that was built like that. To a lesser degree, the
town also shone with light from its own variety of fine gems inlaid in

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the masonry. The view from the center window on the royal family
hall was magnificent.

Salvatore admired the finery of the work and was inexplicably

drawn to the shimmering city that Destin ruled. It reminded him a
little of where Salvatore had grown up in Demontia. Pandemonium
was a less shiny version of this realm. It made him miss it and his
Ravyns all the more.

“You seem sad,” Mar said delicately, coming to stand beside

Salvatore as he looked out the window.

“Just thinking about home,” Salvatore offered, sighing. He

wondered what his Ravyns were doing right now. Mar put a hand on
his shoulder.

“I know it’s difficult for you being here, my lord.” They’d become

somewhat friends after the ordeals they’d gone through together with
his transition.

“I have people who are worried about me over there. I need to tell

them I’m okay. I need to get home,” Salvatore said in frustration.

“Most people forget where home was when they come here,” Mar

said. “You surprise us. You’re not the usual convert to say the least.
You’re a very powerful fae, or you will be. Something inside you
already had ancient magick inside it. Becoming a fae just unlocked
the floodgate.”

“I noticed,” Salvatore said dryly. He now knew things. Spells,

enchantments, powers for which no modern practice had even named
yet swirled in easily plucked regularity inside of Salvatore’s mind.
The power was phenomenal. He’d taken to walking around shirtless
because whenever he became agitated, his wings materialized on his
back and he’d ripped the last three shirts he’d been given. They were
huge suckers that, when they weren’t flared out behind him, lay
against his skin in a two-dimensional pattern of iridescent scales that
looked sewn into his flesh or somehow tattooed there from the tops of
his shoulders to the bend of his knees. Luckily his pants were pretty
traditionally fae and were loose enough to kick off at any moment.

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Those wings were just a symbol of the power that lay within him. His
dragon heritage had given a nice twist to his transition.

“Soon you will be strong enough to go to the other side. You’ll

just have to name a Consort to take with you. Don’t worry, my lord.
Have a little patience and everything you desire will come to pass.”
The sentence seemed layered to Salvatore, and he gave Mar a look.
The other dark-haired fae smiled smugly. “Our King favors you.”

Salvatore snorted. “He could’ve fooled me. He’s avoided me like

the plague.”

“He spends a lot of time on Earth,” Mar offered. They began to

walk down the hallway toward the part of the wing he hadn’t
wandered into yet. The library on this level had been phenomenal.
“He has his job, and I think he gets lonely here. People tend to treat
him as nothing but royalty when he’s around. Always on that
impossibly high pedestal. He does what he wants, and no one ever
corrects him. You challenge him in a way I’ve never seen before.”
They had that in common, Salvatore thought. He’d often felt
frustrated by being kept behind the glass cage of his heritage.
“Though I don’t think loneliness is why he’s stayed away this time.”

“Why has he stayed away from his home, then?” Salvatore asked.

His heart wanted an answer to the reason behind his hurtful absence.

“You know that answer already, even if you don’t admit it,” Mar

said, stopping in front of two huge wooden doors that were inlaid with
carvings of two trees, the same ones that Destin had tattooed on his
arms. “He doesn’t trust himself around you. He’s scared that you’ll
hurt him. Our King hasn’t had the best luck with Consorts.”

This was the first Salvatore was hearing of it. His ears perked up

in interest. “Oh?”

Mar nodded. “Yes. His last consort, Terren, was a human that he

brought over from Earth. They were lovers on the other side, and the
King decided to take things to the next level and make him into his
Consort. He gave full disclosure to the human, but Terren didn’t
understand the true level of commitment that would be required of

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him. He grew to resent the King for keeping him here. The palace is a
lovely cage but still a cage nonetheless. He resented everything the
King did. He hated having guards around, was disgusted by the way
the courtiers acted, and basically walled himself in their room for
weeks on end. Most of the Court never saw him.

“Our King thought that maybe he wanted more out of their

relationship than he could give him, so he allowed Terren to sleep
with other members of our Court. It kept the discontented human
happy for a time, but our sex was like a drug to him. Our King didn’t
realize that he was just giving him an escape.

“Eventually things came to a head, and Terren tried to kill

himself. Death is very uncommon and unwanted among our kind, so
your Destiny didn’t know what to do. Terren had never loved him and
never would love him, so he did the kindest thing he could think of.
He sent him back to Earth with a new kind of immortality and no
memory of his time in Underhill so the craving for fae sex magick
wouldn’t cripple him. The King was heartbroken, but he never really
let us see it.

“So you see.” He turned toward Salvatore with a sad smile. “He’s

terrified of you because to give someone your heart is to give them
power over you. Fae are emotional creatures, especially those of the
Summer Court, and he wouldn’t be able to separate simple sex and
pleasure from love. He would love you absolutely and give you his
loyalty exclusively. You and he are on the same page in that regard.”

Salvatore nodded. “I told him when I met him that I was a one-

person sort of man, and I am. Despite these past few weeks, I want
just Destin. The hunger never fades for him.” He felt like he needed to
explain even though it was impossible to do so. “I am not normally so
free with myself, and I—”

Mar held up a hand to silence him. “I’ve been the King’s advisor

for a long time, Salvatore. I’ve seen a lot of people go through
transition during that period. None of them have done as well as you.
Fae aren’t naturally monogamous creatures. You and the King are

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unique in that. That is why myself and others believe that you are his
Destiny.”

The Demon Prince chuckled. “That’s what I call him.” He looked

once again at the door and stroked the carved surface. “What’s this
door anyways?”

“It’s the King’s private bedchambers.” Mar knocked twice, and

the gigantic doors swung open on their own accord. “Go on in. Destin
should be arriving back today, so it’ll be your last chance to explore it
on your own. I’ll wait out here. Go on. I know you’re dying to see his
things.” And he was.

He couldn’t help it. This room represented Destin’s inner

workings to Salvatore. He’d learned that they were a lot alike over the
past few months, and if they were anything alike he knew that his
bedroom would be his sanctuary. Maybe it would provide the key to
the Fae King’s heart. Whenever Destin had been in the palace, he’d
studiously avoided being alone or near Salvatore. The Demon Prince
wasn’t stupid. He knew a part of Destin was absolutely terrified of
him, but he wanted the chance to show him that he meant what he
said. He wanted to cherish the other man like no other had done
before.

He glanced once more at Mar and then strode through the door.

The heavy wood closed behind him, leaving him to his own devices in
the King’s bedchambers. The people of the Summer Court were very
open about themselves, so it wasn’t that unusual that Mar would offer
to show him the inner sanctuary of someone. They had very little
violence in Underhill. Even the warriors saved their fighting for
arenas, entertainments, and the occasional defensive move when they
were struck by outside forces. As far as Salvatore could guess, the
shadows were the only truly malevolent creatures that existed here.

The King’s bedchamber surprised him. Unlike Salvatore’s room,

which had bright colors and elegant fixings, Destin’s room looked
like something out of a punk rock magazine. The room was a study of
blacks and neons, black being the predominant color. He had a swank

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neon-green carpet over dark, almost black, hardwood which ran
underneath and around a huge industrial-looking bed with black,
twisted posts which looked like mangled tree branches. Instead of soft
linen for a canopy, chains of silver hung like curtains around the bed
itself. The tops of each post were graced with fierce-looking
gargoyles with rubies for eyes. From where he stood he could see a
pitch-black comforter pinstriped with pink, green, and blue neon
stripes. Salvatore almost smiled at that. Destin was a being of nature
yet he reveled in the punk industrial scene. His piercings should’ve
clued him in on that, but he had expected a restraint of those things
here in a Fae Kingdom. It screamed defiance, and Salvatore found
that oddly appealing.

Off to one side were two large wardrobes which housed all his

clothes. One was what Salvatore had seen him sporting Earth side,
black clothes, fishnets, chains. Everything a Goth kid would’ve
drooled over. The other was obviously what he wore around the
palace and to Court. The clothes were the same soft, thin material that
Salvatore had become familiar with as the haute fashion in Underhill.
They were all rich colors and seemed oddly foreign in the space. In
that wardrobe also hung a variety of circlets and crowns which were
housed on the back of the door like ties in a businessman’s bedroom.
Those two objects seemed to sum up his soon-to-be lover nicely.
Destiny was both the responsible king and the rogue, the ruler and the
punk, the authority and the antiauthority all rolled into one. The
Summer Darkness. It was sexy as hell.

He tried to look at the rest of the room with the band posters and

the other plethora of punk imagery, but he kept being drawn again and
again to the bed at the center. He wanted to feel the comforter that
Destin slept on, inhale his scent on the sheets. In an effort to distract
himself from the encouragement of his other self telling him that it
was his right to do so, he opened the bedside dresser right outside the
chain curtains.

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He blinked. What the hell? It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. He

took out several tattoo and punk magazines that he’d never seen
before. A naked man on the cover of one gave the camera a cocky
fuck-me smirk while one hand cupped an impressive erection. His
hair was done up in a Mohawk that had as many colors as the
rainbow, and his tight body played homage to Japanese artistry in the
tattoos he was sporting. His nipples shone from the barbells that were
shoved through and an odd-looking piercing ran down the center of
his chest down his stomach and stopped just above his arousal. It
looked like the back of a corset to Salvatore. The half loops were
strung with what looked like red-and-black satin ribbon and
crisscrossed his body before ending in a neat bow just above his cock.
He looked like a present.

If this was what Destin was wanting, Salvatore was sorely

lacking. He was the picture of courtly elegance and always had been.
He’d fit so well into his role of Prince that he’d never even had the
inclination to try to cut his hair. He was a Prince. As the Prince he had
a right to have it long. So he kept it that way. He’d certainly never
dyed it. And piercings? Why? It had never occurred to him.

He bit his bottom lip. Shit. I can’t exactly match up to his

fantasies, can I? He looked down at his beautiful body in disgust. He
fit in fine with the courtiers. They all loved him to death, but Destin
wasn’t like them. He liked men edgy, apparently. Salvatore didn’t
know how to do edgy. He growled in frustration and resisted the urge
to shred the magazines for the crime of having something Destin
wanted that he didn’t have.

Instead, he tossed them on the bed and started rummaging through

the drawer again. Buried at the bottom under another set of magazines
was a thick, leather-bound journal. His Ravyn, Germany, had one
similar that he wrote down his thoughts and private musings in.
Salvatore hesitated. It felt like an invasion of privacy to be rifling
through another man’s private journal but…dammit, Destin didn’t
want a gentleman, did he? He wanted an edgy guy like in his porn

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rags. Edgy guys didn’t give a shit about being gentlemen. He
defiantly took out the journal and flipped to a random page and began
to skim the neat scrawl that his Destiny had penned.

I met someone tonight. He’s new to the club and is the most

beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. I don’t think he’s human, but the
way he looked at me made me shiver. I know better, but I can’t stop
thinking about what he said when I asked him if he was going to do
body shots like his friend. He told me that he didn’t want another’s
hands on his body. He just wanted the touch of one person in
particular. It sounded like it was directed at me. I know that’s stupid,
but I nearly melted right then and there.

Salvatore flipped to another page. Whoever this guy was that he

was talking about was making him jealous as hell.

Lord and Lady, why can’t I get any relief? Every time he walks in

I could be an actor for a Viagra commercial. I about cream myself
when he speaks to me. Always so damn nice and polite to me. Always
checks me out but isn’t a dick about his attentions. I bent over the bar
tonight to hand someone something and caught him looking at my ass.
He blushed so cutely when our eyes met. There was fire in his eyes
though. He wanted to bend me over that bar and fuck me. I can’t
believe I’m writing this but, if he would’ve asked, I might have let
him.

Who the fuck was this guy? Salvatore thought angrily. He flipped

to another page.

I’m so fucking stupid. So fucking stupid that I need to have my

head examined by a human shrink. I can’t stop thinking about him.
I’ve got a hard-on for the guy that is hard enough to hold up the damn
San Francisco bridge. He’s totally wrong for me and totally off-limits.

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There is something about him I can’t put my finger on though.
Everyone seems to be watching out for him, and he’s from the Earth
realm. I want him so damn bad.

The worst part is he’s a really great guy. We get along

wonderfully. Since he comes to the bar a lot, we talk. We’ve talked
about interests and movies and everything else under the sun. Even if
my dick didn’t stand up to salute every time the guy came into the
room, I would want to be his friend. But I can’t even do that. I’d beg
him to fuck me if we tried. Fucking beg. I’m so fucking stupid. I just
need to stay away from him.

He skimmed ahead again several pages. It was closer to the end of

the entries.

Damn you, Salvatore. I can’t get you out of my head.

The demon’s heart tripped over itself at the sentence. Destin

switched to talking to his journal again.

He made me watch as he fucked a dozen of my courtiers during

transition. His eyes never left me. Not once. He wanted me under him,
and it drove me crazy. I can’t tell you how many times I came just by
watching him. He’s strong. So much stronger than he should be. He’s
everything I want and nothing I can have. He’ll resent the cage I put
him in if I do. From what I can gather about the new instincts he’s
sporting, his dragon heritage is out and about and strong as hell.
When a dragon wants you, you might as well give up the fight. Once
you’re considered theirs, the fight is all over. I’m his King, so maybe I
can avoid him but not forever. Maybe he’ll forget me, but the way he
snarled at me when I tried to leave tells me otherwise. I don’t know
how much longer I can hold out.

I dreamed about his cock inside me all night. I woke up and

finger-fucked myself trying to get some relief. Nothing works. I just

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want him. A couple kisses and a grope shouldn’t enslave me like this.
I want him in a way that I never wanted Terren. I’m so scared and
pissed. Damn Salvatore for making me feel this way.

The last entry was marked for two weeks ago, the night Destiny

had left to go back to the Earth realm.

I can’t stay here and watch him with others and not be able to go

to him. It’s killing me. I ache to go to him every second of every day
and to hear the courtiers talk about his stamina and vigor is a more
than I can handle. I want him claiming my ass. I want him marking
my insides with his seed. I want to sport his name as a tattoo across
my throat and brand that fine ass of his to show the whole world that
he’s mine.

But he’s not.
He’s not mine at all.
Fuck my life.

Salvatore shut the book and exhaled loudly. Damn that was hot.

Destiny did want him. He was fighting it though. Salvatore was going
to have to do something desperate to get his beloved into his bed and
into his life on a permanent basis.

He looked inward for a solution. So it was his dragon side that had

been awakened by the fae magick? Interesting. He had wondered
where all the power had come from. It was dormant no longer. Forget
potential, he had actual kinetic energy in spades. Maybe that side of
him would have a better idea on how to handle one very stubborn
Faery King. He looked to the dragon inside him and posed the
question. How do we get our mate where he needs to be?

He felt his other self grin, and he returned it. Oh. This was going

to be interesting.

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Chapter Eight

Destin was tired from his double shift at Daylight and more than

ready for a nap, but duty called. He’d arrived back in Underhill just in
time for Court to be held, and since he was King, it was his duty to
attend. He changed out of his black pants with suspenders hanging off
the back and his tight fishnet shirt into his Court attire. His courtiers
wouldn’t have cared if he’d dressed like the punk rock guy he was,
but it felt disrespectful to come in wearing the clothes that said he
didn’t give a shit. So he changed into a loose-fitting pair of brown
pants and a cream shirt, vest left open. He even put on his simple
platinum circlet.

He wondered what Salvatore was doing. He probably didn’t have

enough control yet to wander about the palace, so he, Mar, and
possibly Quis would most likely not be in Court. A bolt of jealousy
threatened to make him stalk down to Salvatore’s room and kick the
other men out of there so that he could have his way with him.
Jealousy wasn’t something he was used to feeling. He’d never felt
like this with Terren. When Terren had been unhappy, Destin had
been more than willing and eager to allow him to be with his courtiers
if it gave him comfort. With Salvatore, he didn’t want anyone else to
even be looking at the man.

Logically, he knew it was because he himself had been barred

from Salvatore’s bed of his own volition, but that wasn’t something
his instincts gave a rat’s ass about. He wanted to be the one to feed
Salvatore. He wanted to sleep beside him and pillow talk afterward.

Here we go again. He snapped at himself in frustration. I haven’t

been back five minutes, and I’m already thinking of Salvatore. Great.

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Court is going to last forever at this rate. He sighed loudly. He really
should go check on him afterward, though. Make sure he didn’t need
anything else. Maybe talk to him for a bit if he was coherent enough
to do so. Going through the transition could be a rough process, and
since they were already sort of friends, Destin felt obligated to go to
him. At least that was the tremendously large fib that he was telling
himself. He nodded at his brilliance anyway. Maybe he’d watch
Salvatore again and go take care of his own need in the process.
Jerking off was not as fun, but when he was in the same room as
Salvatore, it at least gave him marginal relief. His day was suddenly
much brighter.

He made a final adjustment to his outfit and strode out of his

bedroom and down the hall to the Upper Court. It was the Court of his
nobles. It was a smaller gathering of people than the General Court
that he held every other week, so he knew almost all of his courtiers
by name. Heck, he’d grown up with most of them or at least been
young enough to have socialized with them before he became King.
His mother’s Court had been stationed in the Deep South then.
Georgia. He’d loved it when he was younger and was really
disappointed to see her move it north into Canada after the Civil War.
He’d been a young buck then, just old enough by fae standards to
raise some hell, and the love of Georgia had never really left him after
he’d sewn his oats and moved on to Underhill. It was one of the
reasons he retained his mint-julep southern drawl.

He waved his hand in greeting and crossed the white marble floor

to his throne. It was one of the original ones left over from the first
fae to live Underhill, and it had a potent, untamed magick to it that
was connected to the very soul of the realm. It enabled him to connect
to each and every one of his people and they to him. It was enormous.
The trunk of a tree, which at one time must’ve dwarfed the palace
itself in terms of height, took up the entire wall. The back of it went
straight up through the ceiling and out the roof for several hundred
feet. Every inch was carved with images of legends, morality tales,

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even children’s fables. A weeping willow was carved like a halo
around where he sat, the names of every King and Queen to grace it
magically engraved in each willowy branch. He sat on the
surprisingly comfortable seat and relaxed into the magical embrace.

“Welcome, everyone. I trust you’ve had a productive week?” A

chorus of greetings met his. Court was not just a time to bring
complaints to their King but to introduce new family members, ones
who had come of age, and petition their King for favors. All around,
though tedious, it was an enjoyable time.

Mar and Quis appeared to his right and left consecutively. His

advisors were dressed in the silver and gold of his Court, and they
inclined their heads in greeting to him. They both looked well rested
and freshly showered. They’d probably been with Salvatore.

His people formed a line at the end of his dais, waiting to be

called forward by Destin. He spared another glance toward his
advisors. He ached to ask the question that was on the tip of his
tongue. Destin gave himself a mental shake. He’d see for himself
afterward.

“He’s fine, my lord,” Mar offered, taking out a small scroll and

quill from the vest pockets. “He has much more control than you
would imagine.”

“He’s also become quite proficient in the art of male loving,” Quis

added with a sly look. “Though we’ve saved his back entrance for
your eventual use. His mouth and cock are quite superb.”

Destin choked on his own spit and glared at the two mischievous
advisors before glancing back at the Court. They all seemed to be
sporting the same Cheshire cat grins. He frowned. Was he imagining
things?

“I will not make him my Consort. I’ve said this before. Do not

speak of it again.” He made his voice as hard as he could manage, but
the tone still held no conviction, even in his mind. The two advisors
bowed unapologetically.

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“Of course, my King. Forgive us,” Mar said, going back to his

scroll. He signaled the first set of people to come forward.

Court went by at the steady pace in the usual way. Within the first

twenty minutes he’d welcomed the new baby Lord and Lady Trendle
had had in his absence, settled a land debate between two trolls who
were both as guilty of greed as they could be, and had given his
blessing to a union between one of his guardsmen, Daren, and his new
Consort, Develle.

He was in a good mood and was just starting to forget about

Salvatore completely when a large knock sounded on the top entrance
door. That door was reserved for those creatures which had flying
capabilities and were more comfortable in the air than on the ground.
He’d installed that entrance for those fae, but there weren’t as many
with wings big enough to carry them anymore among the nobles.
Typically, it was a skill of either the superelite blue bloods, which
were all in attendance already, and the lower gentry, ironically
enough.

He frowned and glanced at his shadows. “Naut, open the upper

door please. It appears we have a latecomer.” The shadow melted and
streamed toward the door, hovering beside it as he tugged it open.

The door opened wide, and upon the ledge was perched a

magnificent creature which hadn’t been seen in Underhill since before
its abandonment eons ago. Wide dragon’s wings the color of crimson
flames were spread wide for balance. The reptilian appendages
practically glistened in the sun and hints of gold could be picked up
on each and every deep-red scale. Destin’s heart tripped over itself at
the knowledge of who was knocking on his front door.

“Salvatore,” he whispered, his cock instantly hard and tenting his

loose trousers. His advisors grinned, and his Court gaped in awe. The
sunlight streaming behind Salvatore did a good job of casting the
front of him in shadow, but Destin knew without a doubt who those
beautiful wings belonged to.

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Salvatore nodded to the shadow before making his descent. It was

a lazy glide, displaying for the Court not only his power but his grace.
They gave him room as he came to a soft landing, his feet barely
making a sound on the marble. He was barefoot with just a pair of
low-slung jeans on that hugged his obviously firm cock and ass to
perfection. He was shirtless as well, and as Destin’s eyes traveled
from his feet, he shuddered at what presented itself to him on
Salvatore’s tight, ropey abdomen. His belly button was pierced, top
and bottom, with interlocking twists of metal inlaid with flicks of a
dark stone.

Lord and Lady, that’s hot. He continued his perusal helplessly. He

licked his lips as his eyes came to Salvatore’s powerful chest. His
nipples were pierced now with silver hoops with a suspended bead
between them that were in the shape of dragons’ heads. His arousal
jerked. What a sight. He couldn’t wait to lick those bits to a tight
peak. Salvatore had confessed once that he’d never had a piercing,
and Destin couldn’t wait to show him how interestingly sensitive his
nipples were now that they had those bits in them. He nearly bit his
tongue off at the thought. No. Not happening. Not touching.
Remember?

Still he couldn’t help but finish his eye fuck. His heart did stop

then. Salvatore’s face was always absolute perfection, but he’d cut his
hair and now it was unbearably beautiful. The shorter hair was a
fauxhawk that was spiked in all the right places with a soft gel by the
looks of it. It made his face look fierce and masculine, no longer the
civilized noble that had hit on him at the bar but a real animal.
Destin’s traitorous cock leaked a drop of pre-cum.

“Sorry I’m late,” Salvatore said in way of greeting. He sounded

completely unapologetic. “I wanted to look my best since I wanted an
audience with my King.” He gave a mocking bow, and Destin saw the
dragon inside each and every action. He wanted to whimper in
instinctive display of submissive demand. Fae royalty were the

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natural mates of dragons, and Salvatore was displaying that natural
attraction perfectly.

“Destin, you need to greet your new courtier,” Quis reminded in a

gentle whisper. The Court was all looking at Destin for his reaction. It
should’ve been obvious by now, but damn if his cheeks didn’t flush
with embarrassment. His advisors had known that Salvatore would be
ready and was going to make an appearance in Court today, and
they’d kept it from him. Damn them both.

“C–come forward,” Destin commanded, his voice shaking. He

mentally rolled his eyes. Smooth, he thought to himself. Those wings
fluttered with energetic movement before settling against Salvatore’s
body. In a flash of light they disappeared, reforming as a tattoo-like
pattern on Salvatore’s back.

Destin watched in fascination as Salvatore’s body stepped forward

the last few feet to the edge of the dais before kneeling on it. He
didn’t lower his gaze respectfully as he lowered his body. He kept
their eyes locked the entire time. Destin swallowed hard and tried to
adjust without seeming obvious in the rearrangement of his cock.

“Welcome to the Summer Court, Salvatore. I know you’ve met

some of our Court already, but we would like to formally welcome
you into the fold.” Destin was amazed that his voice came out so
steady. He sounded almost as formal and mildly interested as he
wanted to!

“Thank you, my King. I appreciate your generosity in having me

at your Court. However, I also have a complaint as well as a petition
to lodge.” The way Salvatore spoke said that he had done this sort of
thing before. Again, Destin wondered what the hell he was.

“This is the appropriate place to do so,” Destin said carefully.

“Feel free to make your wishes and intentions known.”

Salvatore’s eyes sparkled with an emotion that Destin couldn’t

quite place, and when tasting the air trying to get a feel, he was
swamped with a drowning, overwhelming, and overpowering lust. He
did groan aloud then, and some of his Court chuckled, including his

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advisors. They’d never seen him in such a state. He glared at them
until they were once again silent.

“My King, my complaint is that you have taken advantage of me,

and I demand that you take responsibility for your actions,” Salvatore
said calmly. The Court’s collective eyes bulged. No one spoke to
Destin like that.

“How have I done that?” Destin asked crossly. “I’ve done nothing

but be generous to you since you arrived here.”

“Hear me out.” Salvatore made it a demand, which oddly shut

Destin up. “First, on Earth you made me fall in love with you.”
Destin’s breath left him in a whoosh of sound. Holy Mother of the
Universe! Did he just say he loved me? “Yet, you shied away from
my advances, subtle though they were. I could respect that and chose
to give my pursuit of you one last shot. Instead of rejecting me, you
came into my arms willingly.” He smirked. “At one point you even
begged me to take you home.”

The jackass! Destin thought to himself.
“It was my understanding that, though words were never really

exchanged, that we would be pursuing a relationship. Then one of
your guards inflicted a mortal wound unto my person.”

“I already have paid that debt!” Destin snapped. “I made you

immortal and offered you a place among the nobility of my Court.
Hell, I even gave you a room to stay in!”

“Shut. Up.” Salvatore growled. Destin seethed but did as ordered.

“That is not the area of complaint, my lord. You were indeed
generous in your granting of immortality, your healing, and your
space in this fine palace of yours. However, once I transitioned and
the hungers began, you abandoned me.”

“I gave you to others who could give you the sort of sex you

needed to become strong and stable,” Destin murmured, miserably.
Why was Salvatore airing this all out before his Court?

“You gave my virginity away to complete strangers when that gift

was intended for you and you alone.”

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“You weren’t exactly a virgin.”
“I’d never been with a man,” Salvatore countered. “How could I

find meaningful sex among the Court when you know I was in love
with you? By your law, a dragon which has bonded with one person
in particular can never be denied.”

“You’re not full dragon!” Destin protested. He was getting a sick

feeling in the pit of his stomach. He glanced at his advisors and saw
them both looking studiously anywhere but him. So they’d told him
about the Dragonii law. Dammit!

Salvatore’s wings burst from his back and flapped angrily, kicking

up a wind. “Is this dragon enough for you?” He growled.

“What do you want? An apology? I said I was sorry!” Destin

yelled a little desperately. He wanted to go lock himself in his
bedroom.

“I want you to take responsibility and come to my bed.” Salvatore

delivered the words like an executioner delivered an axe swing. The
whole world went silent, holding its breath. Destin couldn’t even
breathe. He just stared at Salvatore like he’d lost his mind. It wasn’t
an unheard of request, but demanding it of the King of Underhill was
ridiculous. Salvatore continued after a moment. “Furthermore, I
petition to be your Consort until such time as we both mutually sever
the relationship.”

Destin released his breath in a gust of air. He was so upset, but his

body didn’t mind the idea in the slightest. It was happy at being
finagled into Salvatore’s bed. “Let me consult with my advisors a
moment, and then I’ll give you your verdict.” Did he sound
breathless? He absolutely sounded breathless.

He waved a hand, creating a bubble where no sound could either

penetrate or escape. He glared at Mar and Quis.

“What have you done?” he demanded. Fury felt etched into every

line of his face. “I told you how I felt about the subject.”

“Your fear keeps you from him, but he would be an excellent

Consort for the Court. He has a generous heart, understands our ways,

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is as strong as you, and will be able to shoulder the responsibilities
that will be demanded of him as your only lover,” Mar offered
logically.

“I don’t give a damn about how good he is for the Court!” Destin

seethed. “What about how good he is for my heart? I can’t survive
losing another lover like I lost Terren.” He brought his hand up to his
temple and pressed his fingers there. The Fae King fought back tears
with every cell of his being.

“A dragon’s love is forever, my lord,” Quis reminded gently. “He

will make you a fine and happy mate.”

“I don’t know anything about him,” Destin protested. “I mean, I

know some stuff, like what his favorite color is, but nothing big. I
don’t even know what he was. I don’t know anything about his home
life. I know next to nothing important.”

“None of that is important. Just details,” Mar stated. “Besides, you

haven’t even given him your name yet. He is taking a leap of faith
with you just as much as you are taking one with him.”

“I will not be manipulated into this,” Destin said darkly. He

looked at his advisors. “I will not be controlled by two do-good
advisors and one horny dragon. I am King here.”

He waved a hand to break his silence spell. He addressed the

kneeling Salvatore. “I will grant you your boon of coming to my bed.
It will happen tonight after last meal, and you will stay until the
following evening in my bedchambers. I stole something precious
from you, and I will accept the need to repay that misstep. However, a
crush and a mistake do not equal an eternity of being bonded with
someone. I deny you as my Consort. We will come together for one
night and one night only. Afterward, you may court and be courted by
anyone who would choose to pursue you.”

“But the law—” Quis began.
“I am the law!” Destin thundered. His power struck out at the man

beside him, throwing him from the dais and onto the floor below. If
he’d been mortal, it might have seriously hurt him, but as a fae he

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merely got up and limped away from the throne. The Court let out a
frightened murmur, and the throne groaned. Their King was normally
not so hot tempered, nor was he so cruel.

Destin stood, feeling instant regret. “I…” he began. He shook his

head and turned away from the crowd. “Court is adjourned for now. I
will continue on the morrow, but for now I have to go prepare.”

He disappeared from the throne back to his bedchamber. Only

then did he start to weep, but in joy or in sadness he didn’t know.
Anticipation licked his insides. He wanted this. Yet, he felt like he’d
lose himself completely if he lost another love like his first one. He
knew loving Salvatore would consume him, but he was helpless to
stop what was going to take place. Where the body went, the heart
would follow. He just hoped that Salvatore wouldn’t lead him down a
path that would lead to more pain.

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Chapter Nine

Salvatore was tired from his little display. Quis and Mar helped

him to his feet and they exited the Courtroom through a passage
behind the throne. He needed to drink down some emotions before he
went to Destin. He needed his strength to deal with his soon-to-be
lover. But…he didn’t want to sleep with anyone. Even his other self
didn’t want to do anything but go find Destin and mark him with all
the vigor he could muster.

“You need to rest,” Mar said as Salvatore folded his wings back

against his body and leaned against a nearby column for support. “I
can’t believe you flew in. I told you it would take months to build up
enough strength for that much flight.”

“I managed,” Salvatore said, just concentrating on breathing. It

hadn’t been as easy as he’d thought. The visceral memory of how the
wing thing worked was infinitely different from the actuality. His
back was killing him. The muscles there were not used to the vigorous
workout needed to keep his wings hefting his body into the air.

“You climbed the last few feet by sheer will and determination.

You were late because you were catching your breath,” Quis
grumbled. “That was incredibly stupid.”

“But the display worked. Did you see his face?” Destin had been

enchanted with him, aroused by his strength and his determination.
His logical mind may have been protesting, but that body of his had
been sending out come-get-me vibes like there was no tomorrow. His
agony over his bluff had done its job and been totally worth it.

The two nodded. “Yes. We saw. However, you haven’t yet begun

the real battle, and you’re practically falling over.”

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Salvatore nodded. They were right. The easy part had been

cornering Destin in a place where he couldn’t escape without causing
a huge scandal. “He rejected me as his Consort.” He hadn’t realized
how much that had hurt until this instant.

“We didn’t expect him to give you the whole deal. Thus why it

had two parts. Your retribution is the only thing he can logic out that
makes sense. He probably thinks you’ll turn on him after a while the
same way Terren did. Convincing him to make you his Consort will
take time. First, we need him to need you so that his heart will be
more open to the idea of keeping you.” Quis’s logic was sound.

“I still don’t understand why you are helping me,” Salvatore said

a tad suspiciously. They both shrugged delicately.

“We’ve been with your Destiny since he became King of this

world. Taming it was not easy, and he had to make a tremendous
amount of sacrifices to make it into the stable place you see now. You
are the key to his happiness. Therefore we will help you in any way
we can. Our King is getting in his own way, and we will not abide it.”
Mar said it like it was religious doctrine instead of an explanation, but
Salvatore got it.

“You guys sound like my Ravyns.” He chuckled. “They’d do

anything for me to be happy, too.” Hell, they’d followed me across the
universes. As matter of fact, they did follow me across some of them,
he added privately in his own mind. His heart ached. He missed them
a lot. It was so different going from being always watched to being
left to your own devices without question.

Mar and Quis glanced at one another and then back at Salvatore.
“Ravens?” Quis asked. “You speak to them?”
Salvatore hesitated. Crap. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Uh, yeah. Sort of.”

“Mmm,” Mar said. “We have ravens in our lore but they never

speak to anyone but our legendary heroes.” They were both looking at
him strangely.

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“I, uh, well, I suppose that sounds odd,” Salvatore offered. Mar

and Quis just looked at one another and shrugged. Whew. At least
they were letting the subject drop.

“You, my soon-to-be King-Consort, are an odd one,” Quis

muttered. Louder he said, “Go nap in your chambers, and we’ll bring
you some food before you’re supposed to leave for your Destiny’s
bed. We’ll also bring you some bottled emotions. They’re not as good
as fresh, and it will only last about fifteen minutes, so get him in the
sack soon after you take it.” Quis pushed him down yet another hall,
and lo and behold they were back at his bedroom.

Salvatore all but collapsed onto his bedspread, not even bothering

to cover himself up. His other self gave a self-satisfied purr of
contentment. Destiny would be theirs soon.

* * * *

Destin finally managed to pull himself together after endless

minutes of feeling sorry for himself. The last of the hiccups left him
in an exhausted heap. He could pop over to the other side and get a
quick feed at the bar, but he wasn’t sure he’d make it back on time
and still have enough time to get a good enough snack. He just
couldn’t summon any of his usual courtiers to feed him. They would
know about Salvatore and his confrontation, and he just didn’t want
any questions.

He glanced down at his spiked wristwatch that he’d forgotten to

take off. On Earth it was nearly 2:00 a.m. Underhill time showed 4:00
p.m. It was nearly time for last meal. He wasn’t hungry, but he needed
to eat. Salvatore would need him at his peak condition because,
although he may be ahead of the game when it came to almost
everything else, a newly transitioned male would need sex like he
needed to eat. Destin knew he tasted great, so he didn’t expect
Salvatore to be able to restrain himself.

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Almost as soon as he had the thought, four palace servants came

walking through his door carrying trays of food and beverages for him
to enjoy. He sighed gratefully and motioned for them to set it on his
desk. He rolled off his bed and slid through the hanging chains. The
servants disappeared, and then he was left blissfully alone again.

His meal was his favorite, smoked lamb with an assortment of

vegetables smothered in a sweet sauce the chef made out of some sort
of broth. The household was showing that they approved of his
joining with Salvatore. He ate in silence, pondering the implications
of that. Salvatore must’ve made quite an impression on everyone in
his two weeks away. He chewed. It was delicious as always.

When he was done, a quick glance at his clock showed him that

his time for reflection and avoidance was running out. He casually
stripped off his clothing and asked his shadows to wait on the balcony
until they were finished. He needed to prepare himself. Salvatore
would be here in less than fifteen minutes.

* * * *

Salvatore drained the vial that Mar handed him in front of the

door to Destin’s room. He had the shakes by the time he drained the
last drop of liquid from the bottle. He’d waited longer than he’d ever
waited before.

“You’re sure this will keep me good until we do the deed?”

Salvatore asked, adjusting his belt so that his pants stayed up. He’d
donned an easier-to-remove pair a few moments ago. The tight pants
were good eye candy, but they were a bitch to take off. It was like
squeezing a sausage out of a casing.

Mar nodded and waved him toward the door. “So long as you

don’t talk it to death beforehand. Keep your courage up. He needs
your strength right now.” Salvatore nodded. He knew this.

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“Thanks, Mar. I’ll see you later,” he said in dismissal. The fae

made himself gone, and Salvatore stared at the door. This was it. He
took a deep breath and knocked three times.

As Salvatore walked into the room he noticed two things. First,

that Destin was not greeting him, and second, that he was already
sprawled out naked on the bed. Salvatore whistled low. He hadn’t
expected him to get right to the point. The demon had expected at
least some argument, some speech to convince him not to take Destin
in every delicious way he’d imagined. He had not expected Destin to
be fingering his ass behind the curtain of chains, stretching his tight
entrance to admit Salvatore. It was the most beautiful sight Salvatore
had ever seen.

“Hi.” He breathed the word. He sounded breathless and brain-

dead, but he couldn’t help it. He pushed the chains aside so that he
stood with an unimpeded view of Destin. The man was lying on his
stomach with his hips curved up toward the ceiling while one hand
pressed two fingers in a steady rhythm in and out of his tight channel.
He must’ve been doing it for a little while now because the tight sac
that hung underneath his clenching hole was tight with need.

“Hi.” The Faery King groaned. “I’m pretty much good to go. Get

it over with.” He withdrew his fingers reluctantly and waved his hand
toward the spot Salvatore was standing. “Lube is by your left knee.”

Salvatore frowned. So that was his game. He was trying to make

this encounter as impersonal as every other sexual encounter that the
demon had had since coming here. It was not going to happen.
Salvatore’s other self growled at the gall of the other man trying to
manipulate him like that. Did he honestly think his control over his
instincts was still so poor? Destiny was about to learn how very good
his control really was.

Salvatore climbed onto the bed and took Destin’s hips in his

hands, pressing his clothed cock against his buttocks. “We are playing
this game my way, Destiny. You are not going to get to say what I do
or when I do it.” Destin whimpered at the contact and pressed back

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against Salvatore’s hard bulge. Salvatore gripped his hips tighter to
stop the movement. “We’re not fucking, Destin. We’re not even
having sex.” The King frowned and glared over his shoulder at the
Demon Prince.

“Then what the hell is the point of all this?” he demanded.

Salavatore turned him over, and Destin went willingly. Salvatore
stroked a hand down his chest, tweaking the pierced nipples, which
caused Destin to gasp and arch into his touch. He played with the
muscles of Destin’s abdomen, tracing each separate curve and hollow
as if trying to memorize the playground of his body.

“We’re going to make love,” Salvatore answered after another

few minutes of playing with him. This made Destin whimper and roll
away.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Destin snapped, turning his head

away from Salvatore and scrambling across the bed.

“There is no deal,” Salvatore said, grabbing Destin and pulling

him back against him. He turned him into his chest and forced him to
look into his eyes. “It’s just you and me. This isn’t about coercion or
manipulation. This is about my feelings for you and your feelings for
me. Responsibilities, obligations, and former hurts be damned. For
one night give me all of you and let me do the same. Since one night
is all you’re going to allow, I won’t accept you half-assing this.” His
voice was immoveable.

Destin considered him, his hands unconsciously stroking the skin

of Salvatore’s hips that were inches from his fingertips. When
Salvatore’s eyes flicked down to take in the movement Destin
snatched his hands back like he’d been burned. “I…Salvatore, this
isn’t…we shouldn’t.” His eyes zeroed in on Salvatore’s lips. He felt
the draw as much as Salvatore did.

“Stop thinking so much, Destin. Just feel.” Salvatore lowered his

mouth to his, and Destiny knew he was lost as soon as their lips
touched.

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Salvatore kissed him slowly, savoring the taste of his lover’s

mouth. This time no one would stop the kiss with the end of a sword
blade. This time was theirs. His other self growled with satisfaction.
They finally had him in their arms, and as far as he was concerned,
they were never letting him go.

He lapped the seam of Destin’s lips, teasing those delicious

puckers open with gentle seduction. Salvatore nearly crowed with
satisfaction as Destin’s arms crept fully around his waist to bring their
bodies flush together. He could taste the fear and lust on the air as if it
were a physical musk that he wore just for him.

“Hmmm so good.” The hunger inside him rose to meet the flavor

and roll it around in his mouth as he rolled Destin’s tongue with his
own. The Faery King sighed in surrender and leaned more into
Salvatore’s body where he knelt on the bed.

With extraordinary care, Salvatore pressed his love backward until

they were lying prone against the black-and-neon comforter. He drew
back for a moment to look at his Destiny as he lay there. His cheeks
were flushed and his eyes extraordinarily bright as he met his gaze.

“You’re beautiful,” Salvatore complimented, leaning in to kiss

those perfect lips again. Something shifted in Destin’s eyes, but
Salvatore was too enraptured by his lips to care. “I could kiss you all
night.”

The Fae King chuckled at that. “That would be an awfully big

waste of a whole night considering it is just the one.”

“Agreed.” Salvatore started kissing his cheeks, his ears, his neck.

He scattered those warm, wet touches across his lover, making a trail,
but touching nothing else. Destin sighed, the sound blissful.

“I like the new look. Was I the inspiration?” He ran his hands

through Salvatore’s new, shorter locks as his head traveled from place
to place across his skin. He could see the glint of metal from his
nipple rings as the hoops caught the light and shuddered. He loved a
man with piercings.

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“Just showing you that I can be what you need,” Salvatore

offered. He delivered a particularly sharp nip to Destin’s collarbone,
making him jump. He didn’t add that it felt more than comfortable to
make the change. For centuries he’d felt trapped in his own body. He
never cut his hair, never was anything but appropriately dressed, and
never acted on his own impulses. Now he felt free, like the man his
father had raised him to be. He was tired of running and tired of living
a half life. Oddly enough, it took the punk look and one stubborn
Faery King to make him realize it.

“You’re exactly what I need, Salvatore,” Destin breathed, arching

against his seeking mouth as it licked the line of his pectoral muscles.

“Sensitive?” Salvatore rumbled. Destin nodded, panting a little.
“Yeah.” Salvatore filed that away for future reference. He was

going to enjoy finding all of his lover’s sweet spots.

“Need you, Salvatore,” Destin repeated with a gasp. If Destin

understood the depth of his confession, Salvatore felt he probably
wouldn’t have made it, but he rejoiced just the same. Destin cared and
cared deeply. He’d known back on Earth that they were going to end
up here. Salvatore couldn’t have been happier in that moment.

His mouth descended on the hard, pointed nipple on the right. It

was the perfect shade of berry against Destin’s tanned flesh, and
Salvatore groaned at the first firm lick. The fae went nuts, becoming a
writhing bunch of arms and legs, arching and pressing and
encouraging him to touch, touch more. Touch harder. Just touch!
Hmmm…these things are going to be fun to play with. Destin’s cock
was jumping with each lick and nip.

Experimentally, Salvatore grabbed the one opposite to the one he

was giving attention to and gave a tug. Destin gasped and nearly came
off the bed at that. Salvatore growled happily and switched nipples,
turning his oral attentions to the one he’d just tugged, while running
his other hand to the other still-damp one and tugging on the ring.
Destin responded like a wildcat.

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“Oh! You bastard! Just like that. Oh. Oh. Oh. Lord and Lady, that

feels…Ah!” The Fae King all but shouted at Salvatore. The demon
hid his laugh with a sharp nip and a tug on the ring with his teeth. His
lover’s cursing seemed like love talk to him, and it was adorable.

“Like this?” Salvatore asked in mock innocence. He gave the

nipple he’d been tormenting a strong suction as he twisted the other
until it was almost painful. Destin shuddered and cried out.

“Please! Salvatore, you asshole! Fuck me!” Destin demanded.

“Can’t take anymore.” His eyes were rolling into the back of his head
at this point, and Salvatore hadn’t even touched the primary source of
his arousal.

“Tsk tsk. We’re not fucking, Destiny.” He continued his wet trail

down the plains of Destin’s taut stomach, paying special attention to
the navel he found there. His lover giggled and as he nuzzled the area.

“Salvatore,” Destin murmured breathlessly. “You’re really not

playing fair.” Salvatore chuckled.

“I’m not playing at all.” He slid the rest of the way down Destin’s

body and took his arousal to the back of his throat in one long suck.
Slightly clawed hands wound themselves in Salvatore’s hair, and the
cursing began again.

“Holy Lord and Lady! Where the hell did you learn that? Oh shit!

Fuck! Damn!” Destin cursed another long stream, and Salvatore
wondered if even experienced privateers could keep up with his
expletives.

He concentrated on breathing through his nose and relaxing his

throat as Mar and Quis had taught him. Giving a blow job had been
the one thing that Salvatore wanted to be absolutely sure his lover
would enjoy when he came into his bed. He bobbed his head up and
down Destin’s now-slick length, tightening and relaxing his throat
muscles as he’d been instructed. Destin seemed to be really enjoying
it. A steady stream of pre-cum was issuing from the tip of his slit in
regular intervals, and Salvatore savored the salty taste as it smeared
across his tongue with every plunge and retreat of his head.

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“Salvatore!” Destin warned. “I can’t take much more. I…it’s been

a while. Please. Finish me, inside.”

Salvatore drew off his length for a second. “Come down my

throat,” he commanded. “You’ll come with me buried inside you soon
enough.” Destin shouted at the words, his cock jerking. Salvatore had
just enough time to sink back down his long shaft before the first
spurt of cum hit the back of his throat. Destin fucked his mouth,
panting and murmuring praises as he spent himself in Salvatore’s
willing mouth. His orgasm continued, surging over and over again for
at least five minutes straight.

The Fae King collapsed back against the comforter at long last.

“That was…the longest…orgasm…of my…life,” he panted. He still
wasn’t soft as Salvatore drew off of him with a popping sound,
breaking the suction. He shuddered as another bolt of pleasure went
through him. “What are you doing?”

Salvatore smirked. “Nothing, lover.” Salvatore drew back his

power to give Destin a rest from the pleasure but still kept him rock
hard and ready for more. Before the sun rose his Destiny would know
without a shadow of a doubt exactly what he’d be missing if he
continued to stay away from him. He’d use whatever tools he had in
his growing arsenal to keep Destin by his side.

He glided up his lover’s body and gave him a deep kiss which

Destin returned eagerly. He knew that Destin could taste his own
spend on his tongue and knew it would only ratchet up the intensity of
their lovemaking.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” Destin asked against his lips.
“If you ask the right way, I might,” Salvatore said easily. His body

was throbbing to bend Destin over and do just that, hours at a time as
matter of fact, but he restrained himself. The time for desperate loving
would come later. Right now he needed to show Destin that he wasn’t
like any other guy he’d ever been with. He wanted to be his Consort,
his official lover, and that meant he’d have to be a cut above the rest.

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“Make love to me?” Destin asked almost shyly. He’d obviously

never spoken those words before to anyone. He may have fucked. He
may have had sex. He may have played. But he’d never made love.
Salvatore would be a first in that regard. Salvatore gave him a kiss
that was as sweet as sin in gratitude for the gift that Destin was
unwittingly giving him.

“Yes, my Destiny. I will make love to you.” Salvatore kissed his

lips again, just as sweetly. Their tongues tangled in a lazy, sensual
movement that was designed to make Destin breathless. Salvatore
cupped the back of one of Destin’s legs and put it over his shoulder,
opening his body up to his pleasure. With the other hand he grabbed
the lubrication and squeezed a generous amount on the thick head of
his cock. Destin may have prepared himself and gone through a good,
long orgasm, but Salvatore was still a descendant of dragons and as
such was very well endowed if he did say so himself. He leaned
forward and kissed his lips.

“Ready for me, baby?” Salvatore asked. Deep crimson eyes

clashed with deep chocolate brown. Destin had to look away. The
intensity of Salvatore’s emotions left him feeling raw.

“Yes, please. I’m yours, Salvatore. Finally yours.” It was the

closest Destin had come to admitting his feelings. Salvatore’s heart
expanded impossibly. He took himself in hand and slowly began the
long press inside his lover.

The tight perineum tightened at first around the foreign invader,

but the lubrication aided the transition. Destin took a breath to calm,
allowing Salvatore to slide another inch of hard cock into his tight and
recently unused passage.

“Tight,” Salvatore murmured, gritting his teeth. The way Destin’s

body was hugging him was making it difficult to concentrate on going
as slow as he needed to.

“It’s been a while,” Destin admitted, taking a deep breath in an

effort to loosen up. “I switch. I like top and bottom but…” He paused
as Salvatore slid in another half an inch. “It’s been a while since I’ve

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been on bottom. Terren did me once or twice but…he preferred
bottom.” It was the first real mention Destin had ever made about
Terren and Salvatore was thankful that he would share it with him in
this intimate moment.

“I’ll take care of you, Destin,” Salvatore promised, his hips

jerking forward a little more. Destin panted as Salvatore struggled to
get the last two inches of arousal stuffed into his tight hole.

“Want you inside me,” Destin said, starting to shake. “Need you

deep. Want to feel you for days afterwards.” The words had Salvatore
biting back a snarl of satisfaction. There was nothing more beautiful
than Destin’s surrender.

“Like that,” Destin encouraged, scoring Salvatore’s back with his

claws. Where the claws had come from, Salvatore had no idea but
they felt right digging into his back as their bodies joined. “Come on,
baby. All the way. I want all of you.”

“Don’t know if I’ll fit,” Salvatore grunted. As aroused as he was,

his base was thicker than normal, and he was terrified of hurting his
lover. He was sweating profusely, the liquid making a trail down his
spine and down his face. The restraint was admirable but unneeded.

“I won’t break, Salvatore,” Destin said gently, reading his mind.

“Forward and back. Shallow thrusts. It’ll help you get there.” He
smiled as if he found something amusing despite the depth and
breadth of their mutual arousal.

“What?” Salvatore asked.
Destin shook his head. “Nothing. You’re just cute.” Salvatore

frowned.

“I’m not cute.”
Destin nodded. “Yes, you are. Beautiful, too, especially when

you’re showing me how much you want to please me.” Salvatore
rumbled but didn’t reply. There was entirely too much talking going
on for lovemaking. He knew his inexperience was showing. Yes, he’d
gotten more since coming to Underhill but he still wasn’t entirely
used to it.

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“I’m sorry,” Salvatore panted, twisting his hips. The swelling on

his base had never happened to him before. It was throwing him off.
He started moving, obeying the suggestion that his lover had given
him.

The plunge and withdrawal had him adjusting in no time until

Destin was shuddering with each forward movement and whimpering
with each withdrawal.

* * * *

His thickness was filling Destin up in a way that he’d never been

filled before and would probably never be filled again. Salvatore
meant business about making love because the entire time he was
moving, it was a gentle motion with just an edge of lust and his eyes
never left Destin. Each thrust nailed his prostate, making his nerves
sing.

It wasn’t long before he was cursing again, demanding Salvatore

finish him. Release was minutes if not seconds away. “Go faster, you
fucking bastard!” Destin growled in frustration, straining toward the
peak. “You’re toying with me! Please. Let me come. Fill me up.
Please!” His cursing always ended in begging, and Salvatore seemed
to like that just fine.

“Love you,” Salvatore murmured, his hips finally snapping a bit

faster as his body neared his peak. Destin cried out.

“Yes! Love me! Love me just like this. Love me always.

Salvatore!” Cum shot from the tip of his engorged length, splattering
against his torso and splashing both their chests. He tossed his head in
abandon as he went even higher than he had before. Stars danced
behind his vision, and his power, which he normally held tightly in
check, ignited the room in a sunburst of light.

* * * *

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Salvatore shouted as Destin came apart in his arms, his body

demanding its own release. The wings at his back sprang to full form,
flapping wildly as his body became nothing but instinct, driving him
even harder into his lover’s body. Destin’s power was singing through
the Demon Prince’s blood, filling him like no other fae had been filled
since transition. His sac drew up almost painfully against his body as
Destin’s body milked him for seed. He didn’t have to wait long.

The demon roared his release, his scream ending in an animal

sound of pleasure as he and his other self flew toward the heavens.
His body jerked once, twice, three times, and then he was pouring
himself into Destin’s clenching ass. His orgasm went on and on,
shudder after shudder, until Destin’s pert backside was overflowing
with Salvatore’s release. He felt something inside him harden and
swell, locking him in place. What the hell is that?

* * * *

Destin screamed as the swelling increased with Salvatore’s

release. The Demon Prince hoped that he wasn’t hurting him because
he was helpless to stop it. Another release had Destin’s back bowing
and his ass clamping down hard on Salvatore’s pulsing rod which the
Prince took as a good sign.

“So good,” Destin whispered as the shudders racked him. “So, so

good.”

Salvatore’s whole body was trembling as he tried to pull back and

out of his lover. It was no good. He was stuck. His heart began to
pound. He didn’t want to hurt Destin, but his cock wouldn’t turn off
and pulling out would just hurt him worse. He was still seeping cum
into Destin’s flooded passage, and it didn’t feel like it would be
stopping anytime soon.

“Don’t panic,” Destin murmured, opening his sleepy eyes and

giving him a small half smile. He drew Salvatore’s head down for a
kiss, kicking off another pulse inside him. “You’re a dragon, love.

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Dragons knot with their mates the same way wolves do. It’s just a part
of you now.” Salvatore’s other self all but purred in contentment.

He swallowed. “I didn’t do it with any of the others.” What if they

never came unstuck? What would happen?

“None of them was the one your dragon wanted. He’s a part of

you, but unless you two are in alignment, it won’t happen.” Destin
stroked his sweaty back and ran his other hand through Salvatore’s
new, shorter locks. “I read up on it when you demanded I watch you
through your hunger and transition. You were trying to bond with me
even before the hunger hit. That’s unusual, but this is to be expected.
The knot will start to go down in another ten or fifteen minutes. Until
then, just relax. I’m comfortable.”

Salvatore let himself relax a fraction of an inch and leaned his

forehead against Destin’s. He felt so complete. This felt so right.
“Does this mean we’re bonded now?”

Destin chuckled. “Hardly. It just means that we could. Your

dragon is telling you I’m an eligible candidate.”

The only candidate, he and his other self asserted internally.

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Chapter Ten

They fell silent for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts

until at last Salvatore spoke.

“Underhill is a wonderful place,” he said, stroking a hand down

Destin’s face. “It’s very peaceful compared to home.” Destin reached
up and rubbed his eyes. He was getting sleepy from all the vigorous
activities of the moment before. He usually wasn’t awake long
enough to pillow talk afterward. Yet, with Salvatore, it felt natural.

“I worked really hard to get it as stable as it is. It’s not easy trying

to rule a group of people who feed on the emotions of others, but I
was lucky enough to know most of the originals when we came here.
Fae are pretty nomadic by nature, but some of us wanted a permanent
home like the ones we’d had in ancient times. Underhill was the
original kingdom, so back to it we came. More fae came afterward,
but in that crucial transitional period, I had close friends and family
around me to work out the kinks.”

“I wish…” Salvatore began but then shook his head. “I think I’m

soft enough to try and pull out now. That okay?” Destin nodded and
bit his lip as Salvatore pulled from his body. It was still a tight fit after
fifteen minutes.

“What did you wish?” Destin wondered as Salvatore settled onto

his back. The fae couldn’t resist reaching out and plucking at the new
silver hoops hanging in Salvatore’s nipples. The demon growled and
swatted his hand.

“Don’t start things you and I both know you’re not able to finish,”

he chastised with a smile. He looked so right lying in Destin’s bed.

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“What did you wish?” Destin repeated. His lover was avoiding

personal questions again. Salvatore looked at him pointedly.

“What’s your real name?”
Destin sighed. “So that’s the way of it, eh? Unless I come clean,

you don’t tell me anything personal. Like why you have bodyguards?
Or why the vampires watch out for you? Or, I don’t know, what you
were wishing so hard for after chatting about how peaceful my
kingdom was?”

Salvatore shrugged. “It’s fair I think. All I want is your name.”
“A name is a thing of power,” Destin protested. It wasn’t the same

thing.

“My past is a thing of power. So we’re even. When you agree to

let me be your Consort, we’ll talk deep. Until then, we’re just dating,
which means casual conversation.”

“Still on that? Lord and Lady, Salvatore, we can have the

occasional roll in the hay, but I will not make you my Consort. It’s
official, and it’s supposed to be forever.”

“Exactly why you should give it to me,” Salvatore said. It looked

like he was getting as annoyed with the conversation as Destin was
getting frustrated. “I want official and forever. I don’t say ‘I love you’
lightly.”

“Please don’t ruin this,” Destin murmured, rolling over onto his

stomach. “Let’s just enjoy this time we have together.”

“I’m not trying to ruin anything. I’m just trying to understand why

you insist on keeping this distance between us. What do I have to do
to prove to you that I’m not going to hurt you?” Salvatore demanded.

Tell me your secrets, Destin thought. Tell me something that gives

me power over you, and then maybe I can trust you with my heart. I
can’t be vulnerable like this. He squeezed his eyes shut but couldn’t
say any of it aloud. It was too much.

“You said it was dangerous for me on Earth because I hadn’t

learned control yet. I’ve learned control now. Take me back there
with you. I want you to meet my…” Salvatore searched for the right

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word. “Well, I guess they’re my family now. I want you to meet my
family. Everything about me will make sense then.” It was a switch in
tactics but it was still Salvatore trying to get his way and Destin
couldn’t give it to him. His lover didn’t understand.

“It’s still too soon for you to go back to Earth,” Destin said with a

finality in his tone that didn’t sound like he’d be budging on that
stance any time soon. Salvatore growled but didn’t correct him.

“Now I know how Tony feels,” Salvatore muttered half under his

breath. Who the hell was Tony? Jealousy trickled into Destin’s
afterglow and he had to count backwards from ten to gain a
semblance of control over it. “Being a subject of a King is shit.” The
last bit of that murmured statement was just as puzzling. Was Tony
his former King or something? It was annoying not being able to
demand answers from Salvatore.

“It’s too soon,” Destin repeated. The Fae King took some of the

sting out by leaning over and kissing Salvatore’s cheek. Salvatore’s
stony expression didn’t change. “Hey, don’t look so upset. The day
will come soon enough. You’re already really strong. And who
knows, maybe someday I’ll make you my Consort, but, for now, I’m
not comfortable with that. Okay?” He dangled the carrot effectively.
Salvatore nodded slowly.

“Okay.” He gave Destin a bone-melting smile. “You want to play

a game of chess? I saw one around here earlier.” Destin blinked in
surprise. Most fae didn’t have the patience for the game, but he loved
it.

“Sure.”

* * * *

“I have claimed your castle, sir. That will cost you two articles of

clothing,” Salvatore stated triumphantly in his chair across from
Destin. Destin grumbled but handed over his arm cuffs and shirt. It
hadn’t been long in their game play that they’d decided that both of

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them were too good to play against one another in the normal way.
Salvatore’s solution had been three chess matches on three different
boards, the best two out of three wins, and on top of that an extra
inducement to play their best, strip chess. Whenever he took an
opponent’s higher pieces, the queen, the rooks, the castles, and the
knights, Salvatore had to surrender an article of clothing to him. It had
definitely been the proper inducement to up both their games. Not
only did it distract his opponent, it was damn odd to play chess naked.
They’d already stopped twice for “intimate conversations with the
enemy” which usually resulted in them getting offtrack for a good
thirty minutes before they had to re-dress and begin game play again.

“Castles are only one article,” Destin protested as he crossed his

arms across his naked chest.

“But my knight claiming your castle puts you in check, which is

an additional article of clothing. So there.” Salvatore’s eyes were
sparkling with mirth as Destin grumbled his acquiescence.

They were down to the last chess board now, and the stakes were

high. Destin played with his lip ring as he was wont to do when he
was concentrating on something. He sensed a trap but couldn’t find
where Salvatore put it…There, he thought triumphantly. He moved
his bishop.

“Check. I want the pants,” Destin demanded. Salvatore stripped

and handed them across the table so the King could deposit them in
the small pile he’d already made. Destin nearly swallowed his tongue
at the sight of a mostly naked Salvatore sitting across from him.
Maybe making him drop down to his skivvies wasn’t such a good
idea. It was very distracting.

“So why do you work at Daylight?” Salvatore asked, snapping

him back to the conversation. “I mean, you’re a King. Why do you
work as a bartender?”

Destin shrugged and sat back in his chair as Salvatore studied the

board. “I love my people, but it’s no fun being King all the time. It
gets lonely being surrounded by people who consider you better than

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them because of some accident of birth. Sometimes I feel a little
smothered. I go over there, and no one knows what I am or who I am.
I can mingle as I see fit, and I can feed on Earth without having to ask
or explain.”

“Still doesn’t explain you bartending. I mean, you could barhop

and do that.” Salvatore considered a pawn before discarding it. Damn,
he had sidestepped Destin’s trap. “But then I wouldn’t have my
independence. Switching currencies are a bitch to begin with, and I
like making my own money. Plus, I love the people. I meet so many
interesting ones. You, for example,” he teased with a wink. “You’d be
surprised at the high levels of emotions at the bar. You were lonely
when you first came in despite being surrounded by your four
companions. That’s what clued me in that they were your bodyguards.
You tasted like summer rain.”

“So you were checking me out,” Salvatore teased back. “Did you

really live in Georgia?”

Destiny nodded. “I really did. The accent is authentic.” He

laughed. “I could get used to our conversations, darlin’.”

Salvatore smiled warmly. “Me, too.” He sat back in his chair in a

mirror image of Destin. “I concede a draw. We’re just chasing each
other around the board at this point.”

Destin nodded after examining the board. “Agreed.” He yawned.

“You ready for one more ride before bed?” He loved being a Summer
Fae. His sex drive could keep up with anyone.

Salvatore nodded, his face mostly a grin. “Hell yes.” He stood and

all but dragged Destiny toward the bed. The Fae King laughed at his
enthusiasm and went in through the chains. He couldn’t remember the
last time a lover had so captivated him. Not even Terren had
Salvatore’s power. They could be intense and passionate one minute,
tender and loving another, and playful and goofy the next. It was
great.

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“Let me ride you this time, dragon boy,” Destin purred, straddling

Salvatore’s hips and sinking onto the prominent erection he found
there.

“Your wish, my command. Oh, gods, Destin!” Salvatore started

his weird purring noises in the back of his throat. Destin shuddered
and began moving his hips in a way sure to bring them both to their
knees. He never wanted this night to end.

* * * *

Salvatore woke alone. The bed beside him was cool, and the room

absolutely silent. Sunlight streamed through the windows, reflecting
off of the metallic chains to create a wall of shimmering links. He sat
up, pushing the covers off his chest so that it pooled at his waist.

“Destin?” he called. No answer. He sighed. He knew he was

alone, but he’d hoped…He reached out and ran his hands back and
forth across the chain canopy and watched them sway and slink
together. Last night had been amazing, and he’d thought that he’d
done a good job at wearing his lover out, but apparently not good
enough.

They’d made love off and on all through the night, talking in the

stretches in between. It had been just as magical as he had imagined it
would be. He put one arm across his eyes to block out the light and let
his memories from the previous night replay in pleasant succession.
They’d laughed a lot. Talked a lot. Loved a lot. A few more nights
like that and Destin would be begging him to be his Consort.

He stretched luxuriously. His muscles were sore from overuse. It

was great. He wondered where Destiny had run off to.

“Good morning, my lord.” Mar appeared out of nowhere just

outside the curtains carrying a tray laden with food. Salvatore parted
the curtain closest to the fae advisor.

“Morning, Mar,” he said cheerfully. “Where did your lovely King

run off to? I’m starting to feel like Prince Charming when Cinderella

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left the ball.” Mar shifted uncomfortably, and Salvatore’s stomach
sank.

“He’s gone back to Earth for work. He said he’d be gone for a

while. He’s probably going to stay a few days.” Mar sounded
apologetic.

Salvatore pursed his lips. “He’s avoiding me, isn’t he?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Salvatore cursed softly. “Why? We had a really great night.” He

protested the situation, but deep down he knew.

“He’s running away because it was so good.” Mar set the tray of

food on the bed beside Salvatore. “He’s trying to avoid you in an
effort to get a handle on his own emotions. Give him a few days.”

“I won’t take anyone else into my bed,” Salvatore vowed. “Spread

the word to the rest of Court. I don’t care how hungry I get. I won’t
consume anyone else’s emotions but Destiny’s.”

“You can’t do that, Salvatore. You’re newly transitioned. You

have to feed daily. It’s just like eating food. You can’t starve yourself
for days on end.”

Salvatore felt familiar determination swell up inside him. It was

the same type of determination that made Tony groan in frustration
usually. “Mar, you underestimate my resolve. Spread the word.”

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Chapter Eleven

All the Ravyns were lined up at the bar when Destiny started his

shift. Salvatore’s bodyguards looked downright miserable. It was a
slow Tuesday night as he walked behind the bar. Only a couple dozen
people occupied the whole club.

“Slow night,” Tara, the midshift bartender, greeted. She was

closing out the register for his use and transferring over the bar tabs
onto his personal account. She motioned to the space Salvatore’s
bodyguards sat. “I just cleared away their glasses. They’ve been here
since we opened, so watch out for them getting too shitfaced. Looks
like they’ve just come from a funeral.”

Destin nodded. “Sure thing. You tried chatting them up to see

what’s wrong?” As if he didn’t already know.

She shook her head. “I tried. They all glared at me and asked for

refills.” She took out the other drawer from underneath the register
and locked hers inside. She deposited Destin’s drawer in the catch and
closed it up before handing him the bar keys. “All yours. Good luck.”
Destin nodded and watched her gather her purse and jacket before
going to tend the customers. He probably should’ve brought a jacket
of his own. They’d had quite a chilly October this year. It would look
odd if he didn’t have one with him.

After he made his rounds, he reluctantly walked over to the group

of miserable-looking bodyguards.

“Hey, fellas. What are you drinkin’?” Destin asked, leaning over

to gather the tip they’d left and depositing it in the tip jar. He’d have
to remember to give Tara her share when she came in tomorrow. Four
pairs of identical golden eyes lit on him. The one nearest him with the

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auburn hair opened his mouth to order but then stopped. He sniffed
the air like a hound scenting quarry. What the hell? Destin thought.

He was completely unprepared when the man launched himself

over the bar and tackled him hard to the floor. The other three
immediately followed.

“Dammit, Dageus! What is your problem?” one shouted.
“What the hell are you doing?” asked another.
“What is going on, Dageus?” They then broke down into another

language the Destin had never heard before. It was a quick, lyrical
language that sounded almost like his ancient language with slight
variations in tone.

Destin shoved at the man on top of him. His back hurt, and his

head was now spinning from its impact on the floor. Ow. The other
man wasn’t hurting him per se, just making it very difficult for him to
move comfortably.

“Get off me!” he shouted, hoping the security would be arriving at

any moment.

“Where is our Prince?” The other man growled in his face.
“Huh? Prince? I don’t know any princes. Get the fuck off me,

man!”

“Where the fuck is Salvatore, you little prick?” Dageus demanded,

shaking Destin like a rag doll.

“Dageus! This guy is just a bartender.” Tony tried to drag Dageus

off the other man.

“The fuck he is! Smell!” The Ravyns paused and took deep whiffs

of Destin, and the Fae King scowled. The other men turned as one to
glare at him.

“See?” Dageus rumbled.
“It’s faint because he’s showered. He smells like Salvatore and

sex.” Tony blinked. “You’ve been fucking our Prince?”

“Prince?” Destin returned the question with another question. He

felt the blood leech out of his skin. That explained it. It explained the

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bodyguards, the vampires, the extra power. Shit. Salvatore was a royal
like him. “Prince of what?”

Tony and Dageus hefted him up like he was nothing and threw

him into the back bar, making the glasses rattle. “Prince Salvatore is
the High Prince of Demontia, heir to the Dragon Throne. Now where
is he, asshole?”

His lover was a Demon Prince. Lord and Lady, no wonder he’d

been so strong. Demons and Fae were not that far apart biologically.
Demontia was a hell of a place to rule because Demons were the more
aggressive cousins to Summer Fae. No wonder Salvatore had admired
his kingdom and its relative peace.

“Does that mean you’re the Ravyns? The Guardians of the Dragon

Throne?” Destin asked as the one called Dageus started shaking him
again.

“What’s the problem, boys?” The voice of the head bouncer,

Nick, was a welcome interruption.

“Thank god! Nick, get these guys off of me,” Destin called from

behind the mountain of men. He really, really, really didn’t want to
use his powers here. He glanced at the shadows that were creeping up
behind the Ravyns. “No!” he shouted at them. The last thing he
needed was to injure or kill one of the Demon Prince’s—Lord and
Lady, Salvatore was a Demon Prince—sacred bodyguards.

“Guys, give Sam a break, will you? I know you all are grieving,

but it’s not his fault,” the vampire bouncer said reasonably. Destin
almost didn’t recognize the name he used at the bar. He’d been
thinking of himself as Salvatore’s “Destiny” for weeks now.

“He knows something about it, Nick,” the leader of the Ravyns

addressed his would-be savior. “He smells like our Prince, and it’s
recent.” The bouncer’s eyes widened comically, and he gestured
toward the alley where the employees took their break.

“Take him out there. I’ll cover the bar.” Un-fucking-believable.

* * * *

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Destin was shoved rather rudely into the alley. He righted himself

quickly and crossed his arms across his narrow chest. His shadows
were hissing and growling at the treatment, wanting to do something
about the attitudes the Ravyns were exuding.

“Talk, human. Where is our Prince?” The biggest of the bunch

growled at him. That was it. He’d had enough of this sort of
treatment.

“First of all, I am not a human to be ordered about.” He let his

human mask slip away to be replaced by his true faery self. To other
fae he just seemed to exude more power. To anyone else he literally
glowed. His skin took on an even more golden sheen and power came
off of him in waves. The Ravyns gasped in unison. “Second of all, I
did not know that he was a Prince when I took him into my bed.”

“We don’t care that you slept with him,” Tony said. He was the

first to regain his composure. “What we care about is where he is and
if he’s all right.”

“Salvatore is fine,” Destin offered, distancing himself from the

warriors. “You have my word.”

“And whose word is that?” Another of the warriors, the one he’d

seen with the vampire Damian, asked. Destin let his powers flex,
forming a small circlet around his head from the elements in the air.

“I’m Salvatore’s Destiny, King of the Fae Kingdom of Underhill.”

He gave a slight incline of his head to each warrior.

“We want our Prince back.” Tony growled. “King or not, you will

give him over to us.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. He was mortally wounded and had

to be taken Underhill to be healed by our magicks. Unfortunately,
there were some unintended side effects, and I don’t know when or if
he will be able to return to Earth.”

“Then take us to him,” Dageus snapped recklessly.
“That is an impossibility. I don’t know you, and my kingdom is

peaceful. We want no part in Demontia’s power struggles.” It wasn’t

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that they didn’t have warriors, but no King wanted to open his
kingdom up to internal attack. Plus, the Ravyns would no doubt
become dependent on Underhill’s energies and be trapped there as
well.

“I don’t think you get it. We will fuck you up if you don’t bring us

to Salvatore now,” the biggest one rumbled. No doubt he was the
muscle of the bunch. “So how about it, Sam?”

“Druas, he has Salvatore. It isn’t wise to threaten him,” the

smaller, quick one cautioned.

“And what do you suggest we do, Germany? Ask nicely?”
“Shut up, all of you. He isn’t strong enough to travel yet, but I

assure you when he is I will find a way to allow communication
between you and he can explain everything that has transpired. Until
then, have a little patience,” Destin said firmly. “I will bring you
letters from him if you like to assure you he is okay, but that is all I
can do.”

“That’s so not fucking good enough.” Dageus lunged at him, and

Destin disappeared outside his reach only to reappear several feet
away from the Ravyns.

“Too fucking bad!” Destin snapped. With a thought, he

disappeared.

* * * *

It took him nearly a week to lose the Ravyns. Their power to

travel in the same bolt-holes that Destin used to travel was a bitch. He
stopped back at the club and retrieved his things. The warriors had
finally collapsed of exhaustion back at the vampire’s mansion, and
Destin wasn’t too far from it himself. His hands shook as he grabbed
up his things. He just needed a few minutes of sleep and he’d be good
to go. As he came around the bar and grabbed his bag, he inhaled the
emotions in the room like it was water to a thirsty man. Immediately,
he felt better, but he still needed sleep.

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He glanced at Naut, who glowered back at him. He’d had to

extricate elaborate promises from his shadows to keep them from
hurting the Ravyns in their pursuit. As far as the wraiths were
concerned, the Ravyns had committed crimes punishable by death.

“It’s stupid to exhaust yourself in such a manner,” Naut

complained.

“It’s also stupid to injure or kill my lover’s friends just because

they care about him.”

“He’d get over it.”
“If you think that, then you don’t know Salvatore.” Destin’s

expression was sour as he spoke.

“My lord,” a demure voice interrupted. Destin glanced up to see

his messenger, Jonah, standing on the other side of the bar. His bright-
orange hair and crystal-blue eyes contrasted nicely even under the
dim beams of the club lights. His messenger shouldn’t be here. It was
dangerous for any of his Court to be here without another stronger fae
with them. Their energies were greatly reduced by being outside
Underhill. They could starve here.

“What’s wrong?” Destin asked immediately.
The other fae shifted from foot to foot uneasily. “It is your would-

be Consort, my lord. He’s been refusing to feed since your absence.
He has told everyone that he will only feed on you. While the
sentiment is romantic and has enchanted the Court with its telling…it
has been almost three weeks, and he is…well, my lord, he is dying.
The physicians fear he won’t last the night if he doesn’t take in some
powerful energy.”

“Stubborn, conceited, arrogant, dirty-playing, no good, obstinate

ass demon!” Destin let his curses fly. “That dragon is insane!
Absolutely fucking insane!”

“My...my lord?” poor Jonah stuttered. His Court wasn’t used to

seeing Destin in such a temper. He was usually quite calm in their
presence.

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“Go ahead of me and take Salvatore to my chambers. I’ll be right

behind you. Get him prepared for me.”

“So you’ll give him your energy, my lord? Give in to his

demands?” Jonah asked, wide-eyed. Destin let out another string of
curses before taking a deep breath, holding it for a moment and
counting backward from ten before releasing it.

“I don’t have much choice. He’s holding his own body hostage.

That smart-ass demon knows that I love…” He paused. Crap. He’d all
but declared himself now. He glanced at the now-beaming Jonah. Oh
yeah. The entire Court would know by nightfall that their King was in
love with the Demon Prince.

He shook his head. He still couldn’t believe Salvatore was a

Demon Prince. It made sense now and alleviated some of his deeper
fears and concerns about Salvatore’s motivation and desires for him.
It also explained why Salvatore had never considered Destin his King
or his superior. Most fae of his Court had to obey him if he gave them
a direct command. The fact that Salvatore hadn’t had been amazing at
the time but now it made perfect sense. He was a Demon Prince, heir
to the throne of Demontia. In the eyes of society and hierarchy, they
were equals in every way. And a perfect match in the bedroom, a sly
voice that sounded suspiciously like his conscious said in the back of
his mind.

Jonah bowed before his King. “I’ll go ahead. Thank you, my

King.” In a blink he was gone. Destin sighed and adjusted the strap on
his messenger bag before willing himself back to Underhill. It was
time he faced Salvatore…and himself.

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Chapter Twelve

“Oh Lord and Lady, Salvatore. What have you done to yourself?”

Destin asked quietly. The beautiful, crumpled man on his comforter
was unconscious and breathing shallowly. Physically, he looked the
same as always, but his aura was a sickly, yellow-green color that was
paling by the second. His body was already demanding he sleep to
make up for the lack of fae energy flowing through him. Eventually,
he’d fall into a coma that he would never wake up from. He had hours
at most.

Destin closed his eyes and concentrated on his lover, sending

energy coiling through the air to wrap around Salvatore’s prone form.
“Wake up, love. Wake up for me. I’ve got what you need,” Destin
soothed. His body stirred eagerly inside his leather breeches. He’d
missed Salvatore in the time he’d been away, but he hadn’t realized
quite how much until his body began to ache like he’d never had the
touch of another man. Not even work had been the same without
Salvatore sitting in his regular seat with his regular drink, his eyes
watching Destin as he moved around the bar.

Salvatore’s eyelids flickered before opening. His pupils were

dilated, and he licked his lips hungrily. “You…came.” His voice was
labored as he spoke.

“Of course I came, you stupid demon. I don’t want to lose you.”

Destin unbuttoned his leathers and slowly slid the zipper down. “Why
did you do this? Wouldn’t have you had an easier time talking to me
instead?” He kicked his shoes off and dropped his pants down to his
ankles before kicking them off.

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“You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t listen.” Salvatore’s breath was

becoming stronger, but it was now coming out in pants as he watched
Destin’s striptease. “You never listen.” Destin ran his hand down the
center of his chest, across his abdomen, and wrapped it around his
long-cut meat. He pumped his fist on the hardening member, paying
special attention to the head and the adornment that glistened there.

“Didn’t know you pierced that.” Salvatore struggled to sit up.

Destin was proud of his Prince Albert. The last time they’d been
together he’d taken it out, but he’d forgotten to this time. The piercing
made his prick almost too sensitive, and so he usually left it out, but
with Salvatore…with Salvatore he wanted to feel everything as
sharply as he could. He tugged on the ring and groaned.

“Like that, Salvatore?” The Demon Prince nodded, licking his lips

as if he wanted to explore it with his tongue. “Like my pierced cock?”
He panted and tugged a little harder as he watched Salvatore’s length
jerk at the sight. The demon nodded again and spread his legs, giving
Destin a good view of his high, firm ass. “Lord and Lady, Salvatore, I
want to fuck you this time. You mind?”

“Been waiting for you to do it since day one,” Salvatore declared,

reaching his hand down and rubbing his turgid length as he watched
Destin. His voice sounded firmer as he drank in Destin’s lust. “I want
you to have everything. We’re equals.” Destin nodded, not trusting
himself to speak. His lover was so giving, and he’d been so selfish…

“Hey.” Salvatore’s voice drew him out of his mental chastisement.

He looked up and met Salvatore’s loving gaze. “It’s okay.” He knew
then that Salvatore had known from the beginning that they were
headed into serious relationship territory. He’d been patient in his
wooing. Destin had just wished that he’d acknowledged it sooner.

Destin’s knees hit the mattress, and he knelt there. He had to stop

touching himself or else he would come just by looking at Salvatore’s
beautiful body spread out for him. “Spread wider, baby,” he
encouraged. Salvatore grabbed his legs and spread wide, exposing the

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tight rosette that would bring them both to ecstasy this time. Destin
groaned. “Did they lube you for me like I asked?” Salvatore nodded.

“Yeah,” he panted. “I was in and out, but from the catches of

conversation I heard, I’m ready.”

Destin inhaled the musky scent of Salvatore’s ass, bending over to

get closer. He nuzzled the tight sac that hung above the object of his
fascination and lapped at the tight globes. Salvatore’s legs trembled in
anticipation of his ministrations. He tongue slipped down to caress the
area of skin between Salvatore’s sac and perineum. He gasped softly,
and Destin couldn’t help but groan at the taste. The lube his people
had used was vanilla and sugar. Yum. All fae had a sweet tooth,
Destin more than most. Couple that with the natural, musky flavor of
Salvatore and Destin had officially decided his drug of choice.

“Oh, damn.” Salvatore’s breath left in a hiss. His hips started

rocking against Destin’s mouth. “Oh fuck.” The demon’s whispered
expletives made him chuckle.

“Taking a page out of my book, doll?”
“Huh?” Salvatore blinked. That only made Destin laugh harder

and drive his tongue deeper into Salvatore’s stretched ass in search of
more sweet treats. The Demon Prince groaned. The sound was
beautiful.

“Hmmm, you taste good, Salvatore. Like me licking that tight

little pucker?” Salvatore couldn’t do anything but make little noises of
need in the back of his throat. “Ever had someone lick you, doll?”

“No. No one but you. Gods! Destin, more!”
Five minutes later Salvatore was rocking his hips in a perfect

counterrhythm to Destin’s searching tongue. The Fae King didn’t
know how much longer he could hold out. He needed to be buried
inside his Demon Prince like he needed air in his lungs.

“No, Destin. I’m ready. Come inside.” Salvatore murmured the

words, making the decision that Destin was denying himself. The
fae’s control snapped.

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He surged up Salvatore’s body, smashing his mouth against

Salvatore’s in a kiss. It was brutal. Claiming. Salvatore returned it
with equal fervor so that it was a battle of lips, tongues, and teeth.
Perfect.

Destin’s hands spread Salvatore’s legs wide, positioning his

pierced cock against the flexing entrance of the demon’s body.
Without preamble, he began to forge his way into his lover’s virginal
depths. No other had taken Salvatore this way, and the idea that he
was taking something that no one else had claimed gave Destin an
odd sense of feral satisfaction.

Salvatore sucked in a breath, and his eyes widened. Destin

watched him closely for signs of pain, but there was nothing but
pleasure on the Demon Prince’s face. He pressed forward another
inch.

“I’m not porcelain!” Salvatore snapped suddenly. “Fuck me.” The

command went right to Destin’s dick, and it surged forward on its
own accord before he could talk himself out of it. He moaned.
Salvatore was tight. So damn tight.

“Gods, that’s it!” Salvatore’s hands crept up to knead Destin’s ass

as he worked his length back and forth in sharp, shallow bursts
designed to allow for deeper penetration. “Feels good.” The demon
panted.

“It’ll feel better in just a second,” Destin promised, angling his

hips, searching for the one spot that would send Salvatore soaring.
The hands that were kneading his butt cheeks tightened and Salvatore
whimpered as Destin scored the tip of his pleasure spot with his
piercing.

“What the hell is that?” Salvatore groaned, his eyes wide with

wonder. Destin just laughed at his awed expression and kept his hips
moving so that with each thrust he was hitting it with his tip. Sweat
ran down his spine in a steady stream from his restraint.

Salvatore was absolutely beautiful to watch in the throes of

passion. With his long hair gone, every sharp feature of his face was

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carved in sharp relief. He seemed so much more expressive. The hold
on Salvatore’s hips tightened as Destin started imagining them doing
this over and over. All the positions they could try. All the ways they
could pleasure one another. A true equal. At last.

“You’re going to come for me hard, aren’t you, Salvatore,” Destin

declared as the pace and force of his thrusts increased. He felt the
familiar tingling sensation at the base of his spine that signaled that he
was approaching an orgasm. Salvatore gasped and nodded. His hand
crept down to play with his cock as Destin reamed him. The dual
sensations would have him going off in no time.

“Never knew it could be this good.” Salvatore grunted as he

twisted the tip of his dick with one hand and tweaked his nipple
piercings with the other.

“First. Best. Last. Oh definitely your last, dragon boy,” Destin

promised. Salvatore whimpered at the possessive note in his voice.
Even Destin didn’t know what possessed him to make the pledge. It
was a claiming all right. But it went both ways.

“Your last, too, faery boy.” Salvatore growled. He was grinning

through the pleasure, pure joy painted on his face.

Then there was no more room for talking as they both lost

themselves in the quest to reach the ultimate peak together. Destin’s
body was driving into Salvatore with enough force to rock the huge
bed so that it banged against the wall with every desperate lunge. The
Fae King knew that the piercing added another dimension to their
lovemaking. It made an already incredible sensation more intense, and
both their eyes were rolling because of it.

Salvatore’s head kicked back, and a sound of pure animal

satisfaction left his throat as the hand on his length jerked hard, sticky
ropes of pleasure erupting from the tip and splashing their torsos. The
sight sent Destin falling over the edge. His toes curled as his balls
tightened almost painfully for an instant before sending his cum
boiling out of his cock into the spasming depths of Salvatore’s tight
ass.

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They collapsed together, Destin’s forehead pressed against

Salvatore’s cheek. Being with Salvatore was always intense.
Acknowledging their connection made it more so. He kissed the
demon’s sweaty cheek.

“Thank you.”
“Welcome.” Salvatore stretched luxuriously and winced. “Damn.

I’m going to be sore.”

“You’re already sore.” Destin forced himself to move to his side

table and pulled out a small vial with sky-blue liquid inside. He then
went to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth which he dipped in a
basin of water before coming back out.

“Let me tend you,” Destin murmured quietly, tapping either side

of Salvatore’s legs to get him to spread. Salvatore blushed. It was
adorable. Destin couldn’t help but smile. “You’re blushing as if
you’ve never tended a woman you’ve swived, silly.” Salvatore’s
blush deepened.

“Well, I’ve never been on the receiving end of it,” he grumbled.

Destin spread Salvatore’s cheeks and washed his opening and thighs
of his seed. The Demon Prince stared at the ceiling and breathed
deeply, every muscle completely relaxed. It gave Destin happiness to
know that his lover trusted him so absolutely. After he’d finished
those administrations, he took the vial and coated two of his fingers
with it and pressed them against Salvatore’s opening. The demon
jumped, and Destin murmured a soothing sound to calm him. Once he
was relaxed again, he pressed those fingers inside him, scissoring
them open to spread and coat Salvatore’s insides with the liquid.

“What is that?” the demon wondered, staring down the line of his

body to watch Destin as he repeated the procedure a few more times.
He shivered as the soreness in his body was relieved.

“A special healing serum that some of my physicians came up

with years ago. There is a particular tree in Underhill which produces
a sap that, when mixed with other ingredients, makes a pretty nice
balm. It’s a godsend in situations like these,” Destin supplied, giving

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one last coat to Salvatore’s insides before wiping off his hands and
corking the vial.

A comfortable silence stretched on for indeterminable minutes as

Destin crawled back up beside Salvatore and laid his head against the
Demon Prince’s chest. Destin toyed with Salvatore’s nipple piercings,
lost in thought. He’d never expected to be here. Never expected to
like or want someone quite as much as he did Salvatore. What he felt
for his former lover paled in comparison to what he felt in the
demon’s arms. His mother would say that they were a perfect match.
Both royals. Both trapped in their sense of duty. Both dealing with
people who had unique challenges. They were very well suited for
one another.

“I want you so bad,” Salvatore admitted, his eyes closed and his

arms wrapped around the Fae King like he was afraid he’d disappear
again. “I don’t just mean sexually, Destin.”

He knew. Lord and Lady, he knew. Salvatore was the most

persistent, dogged, and stubborn male Destin had ever known. And he
was perfect.

“Be mine then.”
Salvatore’s eyes blinked open, and Destin watched his features

take on those of reluctant hope. “How?”

“Be my Consort, you stubborn, conceited demon.” He pressed a

kiss to the pectoral muscle under his cheek before swirling his tongue
around the hoop that pierced Salvatore’s nipple. “Be mine forever.”
Salvatore let out a whoop of victory and dragged Destin up the length
of his body to kiss him soundly on the lips.

“No more fighting us?” he asked in between long, drugging

kisses.

“No more fighting us,” Destin pledged. He stroked his hands

through Salvatore’s short hair. “Hmmm, I really like it cut this way.”
The demon grinned against his mouth.

“I aim to please.”

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Destin snorted. “You aim to be pleased, demon.” He paused.

“Why didn’t you tell me about being a Demon Prince?”

“You wouldn’t even tell me your name.” Salvatore sniffed. “It

was privileged information, and we weren’t even dating yet.”

Destin nodded. The reasons made sense. “Salvatore?”
“Hm?”
“I love you.”

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Chapter Thirteen

Salvatore smoothed his hand down his soft clothing and tried to

quell the nervousness in his limbs. He didn’t know why he was
nervous. He knew most of the fae adored him. It’d been almost six
months since he’d arrived in Underhill by Salvatore’s estimations.
Three of those glorious months had been spent loving Destiny with
everything he was. Since it was their three-month anniversary tonight,
the Fae King had arranged to present Salvatore formally to his Court
as his King-Consort, though Salvatore knew most of them already.
Since the Consort Contract required them to be intimate for a year,
they were backdating it to the first time Destin had acknowledged his
love for Salvatore. It was all quite romantic.

Two valets had come in moments before to dress him in formal

attire for the event. Salvatore looked at himself in the full-length
mirror and grinned. Faery formal attire looked a lot like his casual
wear. Loose pants of deep-purple jewel tones, a matching purple vest
with turquoise buttons, and soft, supple, brown leather shoes made up
the entire ensemble. He hadn’t needed the valets, but they’d given
him clothing options so he could choose. In his mind this was
tremendously casual, but he supposed when someone lived in the
Summer Courts, where clothing was optional year round, being even
partially covered was a formal experience.

All of his outfits apparently matched what Destin was wearing,

and that was all he really cared about. He was announcing that
Salvatore was his official Consort tonight, one step below spouse in
Underhill, and it was only appropriate that they matched. It had been
the same in Demontia when Salvatore had still had a Court there.

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“My lord, we’d forgotten to give you the last piece for your

attire.” One of the valets, Lunah, popped back into the room with a
black velvet box that was about a foot wide and tall in a square shape.
“It is a gift from His Majesty, and he wants you to wear it tonight.”
Salvatore nodded and waved a hand of dismissal as he took the box
from Lunah’s outstretched hands.

He smiled to himself and caressed the outside for another

moment. His lover was so thoughtful. Destin spoiled him absolutely
rotten. Everything he mentioned a desire for had somehow shown up
in their now-shared room. Salvatore had actually had to start watching
what he said so that he wouldn’t appear too greedy for the things that
Destin gave him. Though Destin had explained that giving gifts was a
faery way of showing deep affection and they tended to go overboard
a lot of the time. Still, Salvatore didn’t want to take so much from
Destin without being able to return the favor.

His finger pressed against the silver clasp that held the box closed

and pulled open the lid. A smile spread across his face as he caressed
the thin, platinum circlet therein. It was twined as the branches of a
tree with a single garnet leaf hanging down that would fall against his
forehead when he wore it. Destin had one similar to it except his leaf
was a diamond. There was a note alongside the circlet, and he read it
aloud lovingly.

“For my Demon Prince. May the branches of our lives be

entwined always. May winter never fall in the summer of our hearts. I
love you. Destin.” Salvatore’s smile widened. His lover was so
beautifully romantic. Almost corny but it was always sincere. He
sighed and placed the ring on his head. He was ready to go.

* * * *

The throne room at Underhill was more like a barely tamed glen

than a Courtroom. In the heart of the palace the space opened up to
the sky. A rough stone floor was laid down as a dais and surrounded a

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throne which was carved out of the living oak it encircled, a smaller
throne sat to the right of that one, but it was carved from willow.
Trees bloomed with flowers all year round, and sweet fragrances
filled the air with the heady smell of summer. People lounged
casually on stretches of perfect, green grass while others chased each
other around the stone mounds and small waterfall that fell from
nowhere to the left of the throne. It was a magick place.

Salvatore padded across the lawn of the throne room toward the

dais, his eyes searching for his lover among the throng of people
gathered. From what Destin had said earlier, the number was probably
going to be greatly increased tonight because the rumor of Destin’s
intent had reached every noble ear this side of the universe.

People called out to the Demon Prince in greeting. Some even

shouted words of congratulations and encouragement despite the fact
that they were all pretending to know nothing of the announcement.

“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

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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!”

* * * *

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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.”

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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.”

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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

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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.”

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“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.

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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.

The lounge greatly resembled his study at home and was done in

rich, masculine colors and deep, wooden fixtures to give the place a
rustic appearance. He was lounging on one of the big comfy leather
chairs sipping tea and going over the contents of the stationary he’d
had Destin retrieve from his Ravyns. It hadn’t been easy convincing
the warriors at first that Destin was his and that he’d be coming home
as soon as possible, but they’d finally yielded to his demanding
letters. His stationary contained the most recent letters from them as
well as his business notes on the jewelry store venture that Alex had
suggested he look into all those months ago. According to the
spreadsheets that Damian had sent, the store was doing very well. The
selling of some of his royal treasury to Earth’s people was making the

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currency conversion into a much easier task than selling it raw to
other distributors in order to get cash.

He wished he had his Ravyns here to fill the time. Allasandro

would undoubtedly be making loud, bawdy jokes, Dageus right along
with him. Tony would probably be pulling his hair out at the lack of
order and things to do. Druas would be drinking copious amounts of
the liquor that the fae had left for his use, and Ger would be scribbling
away quietly in his journal with a small smile on his face as he
captured the mood of the day with well-placed pen strokes. He missed
them.

He sighed and poured himself a small glass of fae wine to sip on

as he flipped through their letters. It was the most important day of his
life. His boys should be here. The Demon Prince knew it was
impossible, but his heart didn’t care. He wanted his Ravyns by his
side today. He was lonely.

“Your Destiny said you might be in need of some company.” A

familiar voice cut into his thoughts. Salvatore looked up from his
papers to see Mar and Quis standing side by side. Mar was the one
who had spoken.

Both of them were in formal attire that Salvatore had never seen

before. The outfits were a soft gray with shots of metallic silver
throughout the material. Identical silver necklaces hung about their
necks with a deep-orange stone dangling from the drip. They even
wore full, gray boots with matching buckles down to the type of stone
on their feet. It was quite a striking picture.

“I was getting a little lonely down here by myself,” Salvatore

agreed. “What time is it?”

“A little after eleven,” Quis answered him. “The final touches are

going into the ceremony space and ballroom now. Destiny has gone to
dress and do his ritual baths, so he sent us to you.”

“I’m not hungry,” Salvatore automatically reassured. “I fed well

off Destin this morning.”

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Mar waved his hand in dismissal. “That’s not why we’re here. We

all know that neither one of you take anyone else in your bed now.
We’re just here to give you a little extra support. His Majesty figured
that you might be missing your Ravyns.” The man knew him so well
it was frightening. Salvatore smiled softly. Of course, that was why he
was marrying him. They were good together.

“I could use a little company.” They brought forward two boxes

and put them on the floor beside Salvatore’s chair.

“Inside are some instructions from our chief priest for how the

ceremony will take place, your lines, et cetera. As well as your
clothing for the ceremony itself. The crown will be given to you after
your vows,” Quis offered.

“Crown? Won’t my title just remain King-Consort?”
“Actually, you will be crowned High Prince. You’re Destiny’s

first heir to the throne should anything happen to him,” Mar supplied.
“Thus why you get the crown.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that.” Salvatore pondered that for a moment.

If he used the same principle to wed Destin before his people, then he
would take care of the issue of naming an heir. Furthermore, he could
name Theron Prince Regent so that he could take over once he and
Destin decided to step down as monarchs. It was a perfect plan. “I
really do love Underhill,” he said aloud.

“We’re glad, my lord,” Quis said, beaming. “Now hurry and

dress. You’re running out of time.” Salvatore stood. The advisor was
right. It was showtime.

* * * *

It struck Salvatore odd that in all the time he’d been Underhill, a

year by his estimations, he’d never ventured outside the palace. Mar
and Quis led him into the outer stables that lay just beyond the main
gate. Looking back at the massive stone and earth palace, Salvatore
realized how truly massive the place he’d called home for the past

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year had been. A small city could be housed inside the sprawling
house.

“Wait until you see the rest of the city. It’s quite expansive,” Quis

bragged as he signaled the groom to fetch the horses that they would
ride to the chapel where Destin waited. Salvatore didn’t point out that
demons typically didn’t ride horses. Demontia had the capability to
maintain a healthy population of horses, but they’d learned early on
that demons and horses didn’t mix. For one, most demons had the
ability to travel much faster than horses could carry them thanks to
the technology and magicks they possessed. Salvatore had been on a
horse one time, and that was back when his father had been alive.

“Why are we riding again?” Salvatore asked as the huge, black

stallion was brought out for him, saddled with equally black, supple
leather and whose mane and tail were intertwined with the same apple
blossom, holly, and ivy that he wore as a wreath in his hair.
According to the notes of the chief priest, Destin had chosen apple
blossom for promise, holly for domestic happiness, and ivy for
fidelity. Salvatore wore it proudly but didn’t know how he felt about
the horse having the same ensemble.

“It’s tradition. It’s where humans get the idea that Prince

Charming must come to the rescue riding a white horse,” Mar offered,
taking the reins of his own mount, a lovely Appaloosa with a dark
head and shoulders with splashes of white on the back and hind
quarters.

“Are you color blind, friend? That horse is black.”
Mar chuckled. “Yes, I can see that. It’s irrelevant though in this

case. You and your Destiny do not have a traditional relationship. He
rode the white horse into town this morning. You must ride the black.
Fae ceremony is about balance. He has declared you two equal, so he
must make that apparent to everyone who will not be in the chapel
today. The white horse represents the masculine role in your
marriage, but riding first indicates his subservience to the man who is
to follow. The black horse says that you accept Destiny’s right to lead

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but that you are the hunter in your marriage.” Salvatore’s head hurt
from trying to consume and understand all the different cultural
nuances of Underhill. His marriage was so symbolic he knew he’d
live another thousand years and still be unable to figure them all out.

“So that’s why you two are wearing gray? So that we can have

perfect balance?”

Mar nodded. “Exactly. And not just us. Every person in the

kingdom is wearing something similar. You two are the only ones
allowed to have the purity in color.”

“So what happens if the ‘hunter’ falls off his horse before he gets

to the chapel?”

Quis pursed his lips. “Don’t do that.” Salvatore rolled his eyes.

Like he could help it. “Truly, don’t do that. The people might take it
as a bad omen. Fae are a superstitious lot.”

Great. Way to lay on the pressure, Quis. He looked up at the

dancing stallion. He was so screwed.

* * * *

What was taking so long? Destin wondered, shifting from foot to

foot. He smoothed his hand down the front of his formal wear. The
black velvet material hugged his form to perfection. Unlike the loose
clothing they normally wore, this stretchy material clung. It was
supposed to show off the beauty of one’s self to one’s partner. All it
did was make Destin feel oddly more showcased than he would’ve
felt had he just been naked.

His bloodline was written in the ancient script in gold down one

side of his shirt in the finest gold thread he’d ever seen. He felt the
pressure of his name as he stared down the aisle in between the long
benches that lined either side. The chapel itself was a yawning space
that was done almost extensively in gold with elaborate knot works
and paintings to break up the fluidity of the gold inlay. Even the
floors were a mess of Celtic knot work in shades of dark green and

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gold. He was the first monarch to get married here since his ancestors
had occupied this realm thousands of years ago. The history and
magick of this place was making him nervous. Perhaps he should’ve
opted to have a smaller ceremony in the palace…

“The Royal Consort, Salvatore Demante,” the announcer called

from the entrance as Salvatore walked up the steps. Destin breathed a
sigh of relief. He was finally here. The King blinked. And he was
absolutely gorgeous.

Salvatore was a vision in white, the material clinging to every

hard angle and yummy feature. The flowers didn’t detract from the
picture he presented. Instead, he looked like the Lord of the Wood.
Less tame than he’d ever seen him. The slit in the back of the shirt
allowed his wings to be in full form as he walked down the aisle. His
people murmured their approval. Dragon heritage was highly prized,
and it was apparent that Salvatore had a good amount of it. The red
scales glistened in the light.

Destin made a noise of appreciation as his demon came closer.

Lord and Lady, he was handsome. Salvatore’s crisp steps echoed off
the marble floor as he approached. The King’s heart pounded harder
with every step he took.

“You look amazing,” Salvatore complimented in a hushed voice

as he took the last few feet to stand at Destin’s side. Destin couldn’t
resist reaching out and caressing one of those vibrant scales of
Salvatore’s wings.

“You look edible.” The Fae King hadn’t meant to say that aloud,

and he only realized he did as the tittering laughter percolated through
the chapel. He felt the familiar heat of blush infuse his cheeks.
Salvatore smiled softly and took his arm, leaning toward Destin until
their shoulders touched. He nodded to the chief priest, who was
smiling at the two.

“Shall we begin?”

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Chapter Fifteen

Salvatore couldn’t believe he was married. He pressed Destin

against the door of their bedroom, unable to contain his excitement
and enthusiasm for his partner anymore. The kiss they’d shared at the
chapel had done nothing but increase his need for his lover that had
been building throughout the ceremony.

“Mmm, Destin,” Salvatore murmured, unbuttoning the front of his

husband’s shirt as he continued to take long drags of his lover’s
mouth. Destin’s hands rested on his hips, his eyes shut, as lost in the
kiss as Salvatore wanted him to be. “My Destin.”

“Yours forever,” Destin agreed. “Salvatore, bed.” Salvatore bent

from the knees and scooped his lover into his arms, bridal style.
Destin let out a squeal of delight followed closely by a round of
carefree laughter.

“You are so ridiculous,” the Fae King said, wrapping his arms

around Salvatore’s neck as he ducked through the chain curtains that
surrounded their bed.

“You like it.” Salvatore returned with a wink.
“That’s beside the point.” Destin smiled. “Before we continue, I

have a wedding present for you.” Salvatore raised his perfectly arched
brow.

“I thought we agreed no wedding presents because I couldn’t get

you anything.”

“It’s nothing that I bought at a store, Salvatore. Though it is

something you’ve wanted for some time now.”

Salvatore frowned. “What is it?” he asked. He gently laid Destin

gently on top of the comforter. It was changed to an almost tapestry-

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looking bedspread of the two trees that were Destin’s royal symbol.
Salvatore planned on getting matching tattoos done on his arms just as
soon as he could. He was a little impatient for the consummation of
their vows, so he wished Destin would hurry up instead of teasing him
with invisible presents. Destin took a depth breath, looking nervous.
Uh-oh, this looks serious.

“Spit it out, Destin. You’re making me nervous.”
“Salvatore, my name is Saoi. Saoi Everleigh.” Salvatore blinked

in surprise, his heart stuttering at the words.

“Hold on two seconds.” Salvatore rolled to his feet, away from his

lover, and ducked through the curtains to his side of the bed and
started digging through the dresser Destin had put there for him.

“What are you doing, doll?” Destin called as Salvatore rummaged.

There was a pause. “This wasn’t exactly the reaction I had hoped for.”
He sounded a little annoyed. Salvatore smiled. His lover was so
impatient. Almost as impatient as he was.

“Hold on, Saoi.” He tested the name out on his tongue. It felt good

to say it. Finally. “Can’t wait to say that buried inside you.”

“Salvatore!”
Found it. Salvatore drew his hand back triumphantly, a small

pocketknife clutched in his fist. He tossed off his shirt and dove back
into the bed beside his love.

“What is going on, Salvatore?” Destin demanded, crossing his

arms over his chest. He looked adorable laying there with that scowl
on his face. Salvatore didn’t answer. Instead, he flipped open the
knife and made a quick slice on his bare chest. Destin eyes widened
comically.

“What the hell are you doing? Lord and Lady, Salvatore!” He

pressed his hand against the wound to stop the trickle of blood. “What
did you do that for?”

“Wherever you go. So go I. Two stars met in the sun. Forward and

backward time does fly. Together ’til kingdom come.” Salvatore spoke
the words in his native tongue. “It’s part of a binding ritual.

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Something my father did with my mother. Something I want to share
with you. Take a sip of my blood.” Destin’s expression was uncertain,
but he leaned forward and lapped at the cut. His nose wrinkled as the
copper taste hit his tongue. Salvatore handed the knife to his lover.
Destin didn’t question it. Instead, he tossed away his own shirt and
mimicked Salvatore’s cut, wincing at the slight pain involved.

“Now repeat after me,” Salvatore encouraged. “Wherever you go.

So go I.”

“Wherever you go. So go I,” Destin murmured obediently.
“Two stars met in the sun.”
The rest of the spell was spoken and repeated in quick succession.

It wasn’t long before Salvatore felt the unbreakable cords of their
souls weave together. Now they were forever linked. Just as he was
linked to his Ravyns.

“What in the world is that?” Destin gasped.
“That is my loyalty to you for the rest of time. I can never betray

you. That spell ties me to you as much as these rings do.” He
motioned to the matching silver rings that they wore around their ring
fingers. “Probably more so. At least magickally speaking.” Destin’s
eyes darkened with pleasure.

“Fuck me, Salvatore,” the Fae King demanded. Salvatore raised

an eyebrow.

“I don’t believe I ever fuck you, Saoi.” He ran his pointer finger

down Destin’s cheek. “What is the magick phrase?”

Destin sighed and rolled his eyes, but they were practically

dancing with love. “Make love to me, Salvatore.”

“Your wish is my command, my King.” Salvatore smirked.
They spent endless minutes kissing, savoring the soft touch before

the storm truly began. Salvatore took his time exploring the recesses
of his lover’s mouth. His tongue stroked and caressed his partner’s,
mimicking the act of sex in a way that was as old as time itself. He
never got tired of touching his Destiny. Every time it was something

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new. Every time, no matter how many times they’d performed a
certain act, felt like the first.

Salvatore’s back itched with the urge to let his wings free. More

and more often lately his other self was taking a more active role in
his life, demanding participation. The power welled up within him in
heady, intoxicating splendor. Destin gasped as it hit him.

“Dragon boy, quit teasing,” the Fae King griped. His hands on

Salvatore’s shoulders were digging into the flesh just above his wings.
“Let it out. Let it all out with me, Salvatore.” As if by his command
alone, Salvatore’s wings sprang to full form at his back. They
stretched out, partially blocking the light from the numerous lamps
that had been lit for their pleasure. The fae part of the Demon Prince
gave a sigh of contentment. It liked being free.

One day he wanted to make love to his King in flight. He wasn’t

strong enough yet, but soon he would take his lover into the sky and
fuck him until he couldn’t walk when they landed. For now he
contented himself with making sure Destiny felt him when he left the
room and for several hours after.

“You’re fantasizing again,” Destin teased, setting the edge of his

teeth to the place where Salvatore’s neck met his shoulder. The
demon hissed in pleasure. He loved when Destin gave him little love
bites.

“How do you know?” Salvatore wondered, dragging his mind

away from the delicious things Destin was doing with his mouth.

“You get this little”—he bit the tendon on his neck again—“smirk

on your face.”

“I do not smirk.”
“You do, too.”
“Do not.”
Destin giggled. “Do, too.”
“I’ll show you a smirk,” Salvatore threatened with a mock growl.

He put his big hands to Destin’s ribs and used his slender fingers to

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tickle him mercilessly. The demon tickled him until his lover was
breathless and begging for mercy.

“Do you yield, Saoi?” Man, that name was lovely. It was lyrical

and rolled around on his tongue in just the right fashion. He loved his
husband’s name. Saoi.

“To you. Always.” The words were spoken seriously.
“Why does this feel like the first time?” Salvatore whispered as he

spread his lover’s taut thighs. Destin bestowed a smile that melted
right through all of Salvatore’s resolve to make this last all night. The
impatience flared back to life in the next breath.

“Because we’re new to each other,” Destin said cryptically.

Salvatore pressed a kiss to Destin’s calf as he draped it over his
shoulder.

“What do you mean, love?”
“You’re a husband now. And so am I. It’s different because we’re

in this bed as different people.” It was a poetic sentiment. Destin was
right. This time was special.

Salvatore pressed his arousal to the tight ring of Destin’s entrance,

entering him excruciatingly slow. It was difficult for him to
concentrate on anything but the incredible sensation of his Destiny’s
body swallowing him down. He panted, pressing forward until his
thighs were pressed against Destin’s backside.

“Love being inside you, baby,” Salvatore admitted, squeezing his

eyes shut in an attempt to stave off the powerful emotions and lust
that were threatening to carry him away. He reached his hand between
his lover’s thighs and found the piercing that looped through his
lover’s cock. He tugged on it gently in time with his thrusts, making
sure to massage the aching length every time he did. He wanted
Destin mindless.

“Love when you fill me up, Salvatore. Love when you fuck me so

good.” The sentence ended in a whimper of need. Salvatore knew that
the piercing was especially sensitive to his touch and used that to his

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advantage whenever he possibly could. “S–stop that.” Destin moaned.
“Gonna come if you keep that up.”

“Good.”
“Salvatore!” Destin yelped. Salvatore’s hand slipped lower so that

he could fondle his lover’s sac as he angled his hips to drive into the
pleasure spot inside Destin’s tight ass. His lover cried out with every
thrust. Sweat trailed down Salvatore’s spine as his own breathing
increased.

“Saoi. My Saoi. My love. My King.” The words were a guttural

claiming. An admission of love. Destin convulsed in his arms, his
cock jerking and bathing Salvatore’s hand in the sticky proof of his
pleasure. The Demon Prince groaned at the sight, increasing his pace
until the bed was rocking with the force of his hips. Destin’s tight
sheath was milking him, tightening around his prick until he was as
mindless as an animal in rut.

“Oh yes. That’s it, baby. Fuck my tight ass, dragon boy.” Destin

gasped, arching his back to give Salvatore a lovely display of his
muscled physique. The way Destin’s body tightened as he arched was
enough to send Salvatore soaring. His orgasm hit him like a freight
train. A flash of white light erupted behind his eyelids as his body
gave forth his fluids in mighty gushes, flooding the cavern of his
companion with every surge.

His limbs were trembling when he pulled back from his Destiny.

He managed to roll to the side before he quickly tugged the Fae King
into his arms. He kissed Destin’s sweaty temple.

“You’re amazing. You know this?” Salvatore purred. His lover

made a happy noise of contentment and closed his eyes. Salvatore
laughed. “What? No pillow talk?”

“Shut up, Salvatore. I’m trying to remember how to breathe. I’ll

talk in a minute,” Destin grumped. Salvatore just smiled. He was
where he belonged, in the arms of his Faery King.

* * * *

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He didn’t know how long they slept, but when he woke it was in

the familiar space of his bedroom back on Earth. He inhaled the scent
of the sheets and rolled over, seeking his lover in the wide expanse of
his bed. He was alone. The Demon Prince spat curses to the ceiling,
his heart constricting impossibly. Destiny had left him. Again.

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Chapter Sixteen

The bond flickered to life at the same time Salvatore woke. He felt

his Ravyns come awake as their connection flared to glorious golden
life. They sat up in their beds, gasping. Salvatore didn’t care. Tears
ran down his face and a hole formed in his heart. The loss of his
partner in his soul felt like someone had shot the most tender parts of
him full of nails.

He couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around the

fact that Destin had left him again. Worse. He had banished him from
Underhill and any connection that linked them. Hadn’t he said he
loved him? Hadn’t Destin given him his full name, finally? Didn’t it
mean anything? He twisted the wedding band on his finger, the last
and only reminder of what had taken place hours before.

The door banged open with enough force to unhinge it on one side

as it hit the wall. Salvatore didn’t even glance up.

“My Prince!” Tony cried, flinging himself into bed beside the

sobbing monarch. He was the first one there, but soon his beloved
Ravyns were all piled on top of him like a bundle full of anxious
puppies. Sometimes he forgot how old they really were.

“Salvatore.” Ally was crying, too, running his hands over

Salvatore’s face over and over again.

“We thought you were dead,” Dageus added, burying his face in

Salvatore’s side and inhaling his scent deeply.

“We hoped you weren’t, but even the letters weren’t enough. We

thought that maybe that guy was playing some sort of trick on us.”
Druas choked out the words.

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“Don’t ever, ever, ever, ever do that to us again, my Prince,”

Germany admonished, weeping softly.

Salvatore took comfort from their combined embrace, unwilling to

relinquish it for even a minute. He was hollow inside like he’d never
felt before.

“My Prince, what’s wrong?” Tony wondered, kissing Salvatore’s

tear-stained cheek. “Did he hurt you?”

“He’s a dead fucking Tinkerbell if he did!” Ally growled. The

others quickly agreed.

“Stop,” Salvatore said tiredly. “He didn’t hurt me. Not physically.

I just—” He couldn’t finish the sentence. He swallowed hard.
“Tonight was our—” He started crying again before cursing and
shaking his head. He was not going to sit here in bed with his men,
bawling his eyes out over Destin leaving him. Again. He was going to
be productive. Find a way to talk to him. Talk some sense into him.
Something. He couldn’t just sit here and do nothing.

“What’s with the flowers in your hair, Salvatore?” Druas

wondered.

Which just made him start crying all over again. He touched the

blossoms in his hair as well as the crown he hadn’t bothered to take
off. All those symbols meant nothing. All the love and energy he’d
poured into their courtship and marriage meant nothing. He’d been
left. Probably for another stupid-ass reason. What was it this time?
Did he make Destin love him too much? Was the commitment too
great? What the hell was his partner’s problem now?

“Whoa,” Ally added his voice to the mix. “Check out the bling

underneath the blossoms. Nice. Is that platinum?” Dageus reached
over and popped him in the arm with his fist, shooting a meaningful
glance at Salvatore.

“It’s fine, Dageus. Truly. I’m fine. Or I will be. After I get some

sleep and come up with a plan,” Salvatore reassured automatically.
His Ravyns always worried about him. They had never left him.
Never abandoned him. Not once. Even if this thing between himself

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and his Destiny was over he had them. That gave him a small
comfort. The oddly out-of-rhythm beat of his heart disagreed.

* * * *

The vampires gave them their space that night and during the day,

but when the sun set the following evening, they came knocking on
the door. Druas had tried without success to repair it earlier that day.
Salvatore was still exhausted and snuggled between the warm,
reassuring bodies of his bodyguards.

“Evening, Prince Salvatore,” Alex, the Master vampire of the city,

greeted. He stood just off to the left of the bed as if he didn’t want to
interrupt their moment of rest. Salvatore’s eyes rested on his face.

“Hi.”
“You look like death warmed over, friend.”
“Thanks.”
“Leave him alone, Alex,” Dageus grumbled, hugging Salvatore

close. “He had a rough night.”

“Yeah back off, bitey,” Tony added.
“I’m not attacking him.” Alex raised his hands in surrender. “I just

wanted to check on Salvatore. He’s been gone two months.”

“Two months?” Salvatore wondered, frowning. He pushed his

Ravyns off of his naked body. “I’ve been gone over a year.”

“Time must be different in the faery world,” Alex said sagely.

“Demontia and Earth run on different timetables. It makes sense that
the fae world would run on yet another.”

“You were gone a whole year over there?” Dageus echoed. “Were

you a prisoner?”

They hadn’t spoken of his time away in the hours they’d been

together. Salvatore had been too raw about the whole thing. He
twisted the ring on his finger. An imperfection in the metal caught the
light. There, etched in the metal, was the beginning of his pledge.

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Wherever you go. So go I. Call my name. Saoi. Huh. That was
strange. He didn’t remember his wedding ring saying that before.

“Earth to Salvatore. You okay, my Prince?” Ally’s voice broke his

examination of his ring.

“Fine. I’m fine.”
“Gods, is that a wedding band?” Dageus was the one to notice and

grabbed his hand, dragging it toward the lamp that Alex had turned
on. Salvatore blushed.

“Holy shit. You got married?” Tony sounded like he was about to

give birth to kittens. “Who?”

“I married my Destiny.” Salvatore stroked the shining band. “The

Fae King of Underhill.” They all sucked in a collective breath at his
admission. No one had seen that coming.

“So you’re, uh…”
“That is irrelevant.” Dageus interrupted Tony’s inquiry. “Married.

Salvatore, where is your husband?”

Salvatore sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He dropped

me off here sometime during our wedding night and left.” He really
didn’t want to cry. He really didn’t. “I don’t know why he left.”
Immediately his Ravyns reached for him, murmuring soothing words
and running their hands over him in comfort.

“Fae are strange creatures. Ever since we learned you were taken

by them, we’ve been doing research in my library,” Alex offered.
“You’re welcome to look over the research we’ve accumulated. If you
want your lover back—” He paused. “You do want him back?”
Salvatore nodded. “Maybe your answers can be found there.”

“Maybe it’s some sort of test,” Druas offered. They all turned to

look at him. “What? Haven’t you ever read any fairy tales? They
always involve some sort of quest.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. I went on a quest. I left my own

realm. I took up his challenges. I won his bed. I grew in my powers. I
married his ass. Isn’t that where we’re supposed to get happily ever
after?”

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Alex nodded. “I have to agree with Salvatore in this instance, Dru.

Happily ever after comes after the wedding. Of course, if we’re going
by Grimms’ fairy tales, then they might not ever get a happy ending.”

“Thanks for that vote of confidence, vampire,” Salvatore

grumbled. “I need to get up.” He picked up a flower petal off his
chest. “Look, I’m wilting.”

“I like the haircut by the way,” Ally complimented. “It makes you

look a lot different.” His hand came up to tug on Salvatore’s nipple
piercing. “These do, too.” The Demon Prince hissed and smacked his
hand.

“Knock that off. They’re sensitive. Up. All of you. I want a

shower.” He looked at Alex. “Then I’ll meet you in your library. This
has to be some sort of puzzle.” The Ravyns gave him matching grins.
They liked seeing their Prince with that much determination on his
face. Salvatore took a deep breath and extricated himself from the pile
of Ravyns. He would get closure from his lover in one way or
another.

* * * *

“The damn ring won’t come off,” Salvatore griped as he wrestled

with the metallic ring on his finger. He tugged. He pulled. He twisted.
Nothing. Damn.

“What do you mean it won’t come off?” Ally wondered from his

place on the floor of Alex’s study. He’d long since stopped flipping
through the piles of papers that were stacked in not-so-neat manila
folders that Ally’s fiancé, Damian, had arranged for them to use to
stick their research in.

“It’s stuck or something. Just won’t come off my finger. It moves

fine when I turn it, but when I try to pull it off, it sticks to my skin
like it’s glued.”

“Magick, my Prince,” Tony provided. “A binding.”

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Of course it was. Why hadn’t Salvatore thought of that? He was

tired. He knew that. They’d been holed up here for almost a week
now, pouring over the mountains of fairy tales, eyewitness accounts,
and all other manner of hoopla, trying to find a grain of truth that
would be helpful in tracking down or summoning a Fairy King. So far
they’d turned up nada.

“How’s Theron?” he asked suddenly. He realized that he hadn’t

even seen his cousin since he’d been back. He worried about Theron.
When he’d sent his Ravyns back to Demontia to fetch him, Theron
had arrived with a soft voice and a nervous disposition.

“He’s spent a lot of time in his room since you’ve been gone. I

don’t think he even knows that you’re back to be honest,” Tony
offered from his place by the fireplace. Poor thing was probably
worried about his own fate because of Salvatore’s “death.” Tony had
told him that they hadn’t wanted to get Theron’s hopes up by telling
him that Salvatore had been writing them in case it was an elaborate
sham.

A crisp knock sounded on the door, interrupting whatever reply

Salvatore had been forming. His Ravyns tensed, and Salvatore’s heart
pounded. Hope clawed its way up into his chest.

“Master,” Cord’s voice sounded through the wood, addressing

Alex. The vampire used his inhuman speed to open up the door and
admit the shifter. “There are two men waiting in the foyer who claim
to be sent from the Faery King with a message for Prince Salvatore.”

“Show them to the tearoom,” Alex commanded immediately. He

glanced at his Timex watch. “It’s just after sunset, so all of my people
are up and about the house. What do you want to do, Salvatore?
Should I call for extra reinforcements or let you handle this?”

“It’s a personal matter, Alexander.” Salvatore stood, smoothing

his hand down his shirt. He’d felt oddly confined in his clothing since
he’d been back. Everything felt too tight and constrictive. “I’d prefer
to deal with it by myself.” The Ravyns growled, and Salvatore sighed.
He’d so gotten used to not having people demand to protect him every

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second of every bloody day. “With my Ravyns of course,” he added,
not wanting to be confrontational.

* * * *

The tearoom was a stately, formal room that Alex usually used to

greet business associates. It was exactly like a Victorian tearoom,
complete with pastel colors, repeating wallpaper, and high-end, ornate
furniture. The room somehow managed to pull off formality with a
dose of well-calculated sunshine that was much more relaxing than
most modern office rooms. Salvatore had only been here once or
twice.

Two of his Ravyns went into the room ahead of him, and the other

three filed in behind. The two shifters which were assigned to them as
well took up their posts on either side of the door. Salvatore rolled his
eyes. If these really were fae from Underhill, they were more likely to
kiss as to kill him.

Salvatore pushed his way through the mountain of men in his path

and couldn’t keep the grin off his face at the two familiar visages in
his line of sight.

“Mar, Quis!” he greeted. The two men bolted out of their chairs

and raced toward him. Tony and Druas tried to step in their way, but
they simply disappeared and reappeared in front of Salvatore anyway.
They threw their arms around him.

“Salvatore!” Mar returned, scattering kisses over his face like an

eager child. “We’re so glad we found you. Our King gave us the
address, but we weren’t sure if it was correct.”

“Our King has been so very busy since you’ve been away. Neither

of us had talked to him since your marriage until he summoned us a
few nights ago,” Quis added. They spoke like he’d been gone a lot
longer than six nights. The time must be moving faster in Underhill as
Alex had predicted.

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“The war preparations have all been made. Your soldiers stand

ready to command.” Mar beamed at him. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

“War? Whose war? My war?” Salvatore asked stupidly. He was a

bit overwhelmed. He had been expecting them to be delivering some
sort of an apology from Destin.

“Yes. Your war, my Prince. The soldiers your husband pledged to

your cause as well as some additional ones from his mother’s Court.
He told us to tell you that they would be ready in two weeks’ time.
He’s having difficulties bringing his mother’s people and his own
together without consequence, so it has taken longer than he expected.
He also asked us to check on your health, and it seems he was correct.
You haven’t needed to feed in his time away?” Salvatore shook his
head. He hadn’t even thought of feeding. He’d been too distracted and
grief stricken. “Good. Then you have his ability to feed on others
without lying with them. A rare trait indeed for a fae so young.”

“Practically unheard of, my lord,” Quis piped in.
“Your Ravyns must be sustaining you quite well. They care

deeply for you.” Mar looked at the two Ravyns standing closest and
laughed. “Though they do not care for us this close to you at all.”

“Bugger them,” Salvatore said unexpectedly. He felt the stunned

gazes of his Ravyns. Salvatore was never so unrefined in front of
company. “Come. Sit on the couch with me. I want to know
everything my lover has been up to in my absence.” He drew them to
the couch they’d been sitting across from before. One snuggled on
each side of him, much closer than human or demon propriety
allowed. The Ravyns stared at him like he’d grown another head.

He glared at them. “Would you all relax? These are Destin’s

advisors, Mar and Quis. They’re perfectly harmless.”

“Do you always snuggle your advisors like that? Because if so,

we’re missing out.” Allasandro couldn’t resist cracking the joke, but
Salvatore smiled.

“They’re fae. It’s what we do. You think this is bad, you

should’ve been with us when I was—” His thoughts stalled out. Had

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he really almost admitted to fucking these two men to his Ravyns?
How grossly inappropriate! He shook his head. He’d picked up some
strange traits from the courtiers of Underhill.

Allasandro’s grin stretched from one ear to the other. “If the rest

of Underhill is so friendly, then I can see why you stayed so long.
Damn, my Prince.” Salvatore blushed as Tony cuffed Ally’s head.

Mar and Quis tried to smother their laughter but didn’t quite

manage it. He cleared his throat. “Can we please get back to the
conversation I was having?” The two fae nodded.

“In your absence, His Majesty has been raising an army the likes

of which the fae world hasn’t seen since the last of the Court wars
several hundred years ago. He has already installed one of his top
generals on Earth to act as council to you. He sent us ahead before
Sardinia because he thought your Ravyns would be more comfortable
meeting harmless courtiers rather than a general,” Quis finished, and
Salvatore nodded. That made sense. His Ravyns probably would’ve
flipped if a fellow warrior showed up and tried to gain a private
audience with Salvatore.

“His Lordship also asked if it would be possible to gain some

warriors from other vampire clans. He feels that it would be best to
stage a rebellion with as much variation of force as possible.”

“Is the faery serious?” Druas asked in wonder. “Is he really

donating troops to overthrow Desmond?”

“With a significant force, we could convince the demons still

loyal to our cause to join the battle. Right now we have the element of
surprise. Rumor has already been circulating that you are dead from
this world,” Tony added his thoughts. His mind was obviously
churning with possibilities.

“Vampires never do anything for free,” Dageus piped up,

addressing the fae advisors. “And they never do anything for another
species unless their arms are twisted. I could get Alex onboard, but he
doesn’t have the clout or the muscle in his line to back it up. He’d
have to go to the Vampire Council and ask for assistance. Once they

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grant him the ability, he can talk to other clans but not until then. It’d
take some fancy maneuvering. I’ll talk to him about it when we’re
finished here.”

Salvatore held up his hand to silence their excited chatter. “Is this

why Destin has been staying away? Because he’s been arranging this?
Why didn’t he contact me? Something, anything would’ve done. He
knew what I would’ve thought about being left alone. What the hell?”

Quis and Mar shot each other a glance and then glanced at

Salvatore in confusion. “Why didn’t you summon him?” Mar
wondered. “He’s been waiting for your call for weeks now. To be
honest, he’s trying to be patient but he’s been pretty miserable
without you.”

Salvatore blinked. “How the hell am I supposed to summon him?

I don’t know how!” He twisted the ring on his finger in agitation. As
the ring spun into the light, the engraving caught his eye again.
Wherever you go. So go I. Call my name. Saoi. Gods, was it really
that simple?

“Saoi, stubborn-ass uncommunicative King of Underhill, I

summon you.”

The room flashed white, blinding everyone momentarily. The

Ravyns’ powers expanded as their fear leapt to the forefront of
thought. They all simultaneously dove in Salvatore’s direction, dog
piling on top of him in an effort to shield him from whatever made the
light. When the blinding shroud faded, a shorter male stood in the
middle of the sitting room with a tight, black, mesh shirt, black pants
with neon-green stitches, and a gold crown on his head that was inlaid
with black-and-red stone. A single ring adorned his finger. The
matching platinum band was the only thing needed to tell the Ravyns
what they needed to know. The bartender was Salvatore’s husband
and the King of Faeries.

Destin blinked, his brows furrowing. “Did you call me here to

watch your wrestling match, Salvatore? I had hoped you’d summon

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me to a more private setting.” He almost seemed to be pouting.
Salvatore let out a frustrated noise and shoved at his Ravyns.

“Get off me, you big louts! For Heaven’s sake. You are crushing

me.” The Ravyns shifted ever so slightly, allowing Salvatore to sit up
straight but not giving Destin a clear shot of his lover. They all gave
identical snarls in his direction. Salvatore’s irritation rose.

“That is my husband you are growling at. Stop it. Now.” The

growls quieted, but they remained where they were.

“Well, they certainly are protective,” Destin noted dryly. “Not to

mention stubborn,” he added after a moment as Salvatore pushed
against Druas’s broad shoulders in vain. “They’re afraid I’m here to
steal you away again.” Salvatore glanced at their auras. Yes. Fear was
there. Mistrust as well.

“Ravyns,” he warned. “That is my husband, and this is your last

chance to show him the proper respect awarded his station.” They
remained unmoved. “You have ’til the count of three. One. Two.”
One by one the Ravyns dropped to their knees and twined their
middle and ring fingers, inclining their heads in a perfect bow.
“Better.” He petted Tony’s head, trying to sooth the tension that was
rolling off of his Ravyn in waves.

The Demon Prince stepped around them and walked up to his

lover. “Next time you drop me off somewhere in the middle of the
night, leave a phone number,” he chastised.

“I left instructions.” The Fae King motioned to the ring on his

finger.

“Those are not instructions. Those are sweet, sentimental words

that you’d find on any other personalized wedding ring.”

“Instructions.”
“Stubborn faery.” Salvatore growled.
“Pigheaded demon,” Destin snapped back. The annoyance melted

out of both of them as the argument progressed. They slowly smiled
at one another.

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“Missed you, faery boy,” Salvatore admitted. Destin came easily

into his arms, resting his head on Salvatore’s strong shoulder.

“Missed you, too.” Destin pressed a kiss to the side of Salvatore’s

neck. “Everything is almost ready for your war.” He motioned toward
his Ravyns. “You’re going to need more of them as this conflict
progresses. Five men are good, but seven men are better. Magick
works better with seven.”

“My Ravyns said the same thing before I was taken to Underhill.”

The Demon Prince felt the old well of magick rise within him. His
wings threatened to take form on his back. “I still don’t think I’ve got
the energy to bind them as my father did.” He was exasperated by
that. He’d thought with his additional powers that it would be a
simple thing, but he now knew the spell that his father had performed,
and it required a lot more than he had.

“You have a few picked out?” Destin asked, drawing back slightly

so he could look into Salvatore’s face.

“Yes. Two shifters from the Entertainer household that act as

bodyguards. They’re well trained and loyal. It doesn’t matter though.
I don’t think I can do it.”

“You can’t do it alone. I was looking through our records for the

spell that your father used to bind them in reincarnation after you told
me about it. The reason it weakened him so severely was because he
didn’t perform it correctly. He was lucky he didn’t kill himself trying
it. He must’ve been tremendously powerful.”

“He was,” Salvatore agreed. He frowned as what Destin said sank

in. “What do you mean incorrectly? What did he do wrong?”

“You need two members of royal lines to perform it. It takes only

partial power from each. Usually, it is the King and Queen who
perform it so that they have equal burdens.”

Salvatore shook his head. “My mother wouldn’t have survived it.”
“Perhaps not. But I would.” Destin’s beautiful eyes were filled

with steely determination. “With our combined strengths, we could
open and draw more people into the binding.”

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“You would do this for me?” Salvatore was oddly touched by his

persistence on his behalf. It was nice to be so thoroughly taken care of
and, at the same time, made to feel the power of his station.

“I want you as protected as I can possibly get moving forward. I

would die for you, Salvatore. Of course I will do this for you.” Destin
sounded downright annoyed that he’d even asked. His southern drawl
got thicker whenever he got annoyed. The demon traced Destin’s jaw
with the tip of his finger.

“I’m glad you’re not running from us anymore.”
“Gag. If you put anymore sentimental crap into this conversation,

I am seriously going to puke,” Allasandro’s voice piped up from
behind them. They turned in unison and saw the Ravyn still on his
knees, head bowed, but the expression on his face was unmistakable.
Destin burst out laughing.

“Is he always like that?” he asked after a moment of being lost in

his fit of giggles.

“Yes,” Salvatore said sadly. “Always.”

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Epilogue

One Week Later

The two monarchs lay side by side in opposite directions on

Salvatore’s bed. Destin’s mouth surrounded the thick length of
Salvatore’s cock while Salvatore’s own mouth worked the pierced
head of Destin’s. The feeling of the two sensations of being sucked
and getting sucked was one that Salvatore was thoroughly enjoying.

He reached his hand up and fondled his partner’s tight sac as he

neared the peak of his pleasure. There was nothing the Demon Prince
loved more than making his lover spurt helplessly into his willing
mouth. Destin’s mouth popped off his arousal as he drew closer.

“Salvatore. Stop,” he panted. “Goin’ to come.” His mouth

immediately went back to Salvatore’s aching length, working it hard
with a desperate edge to the movement.

Salvatore drew his mouth back, using his hand instead to work

Destin’s body as his hips started pumping instinctually. “Come for me
then,” he mumbled. “Shoot down my throat like a good faery boy.”
Destin cried out around the member in his mouth and convulsed hard.
He gave forth his seed in mighty gushes of fluid, the most of which
Salvatore caught as he sealed his mouth over the rosy head in
anticipation. Salvatore swallowed easily, the familiar salty-sweet taste
a welcome flavor to him.

Destin had to back off Salvatore’s body for a second to pant. “I

didn’t want to come yet, you merciless bastard.” His words sounded
out of breath and full of pleasure despite the name calling.

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“I love you, too, asshole,” Salvatore returned, placing a kiss on his

lover’s spit-shined tip. He glanced down his body and saw Destin
give him a smirk, his brown eyes shining.

Before he could ask what he was up to, Destin’s power filled the

room with the sweet, heady smell of flowers. It was an aphrodisiac
pheromone that members of the royal faery family possessed. Destin
had told him about it before but had refused to demonstrate. Until
now.

Salvatore throbbed and a moan of want worked itself out of his

throat. “I’m merciless?” he gasped.

“Going to ride you so good, dragon boy.” Destin smirked.

“Payback is a bitch, huh?”

Salvatore couldn’t do much but gasp for breath as Destin climbed

up his body, flipping his leg over the demon’s hip so that he was
astride Salvatore. Without preamble, he took Salvatore’s cock and
pushed himself down onto the weeping tip. The demon howled his
pleasure to the ceiling as his lover began a fast and furious pace
designed to put him over the moon in no time.

Within five minutes, Salvatore was begging for mercy. He never

got tired of his lover’s body joined with his.

“Come for me, Salvatore,” Destin panted, giving him his most

wicked look of pleasure. “Come for me.” Salvatore did. He gave one
last lunge upward into the sanctuary of his lover’s body before going
off like a shot within the tight depths.

As they lay together panting afterward, a hesitant knock sounded

on the door.

“My Princes,” Tony’s unsure voice said through the thick oak.

“The ceremony space is all prepared. We’re just, uh, waiting on the
two of you.” Destin started laughing at that, and Salvatore put a hand
to his mouth to smother the sound. He tried exceedingly hard not to
sound like he’d just had the time of his life.

“I’ll, um, be out in a just a minute, Tony. Thank you.” They heard

his retreating footsteps, and then Destin did burst out laughing.

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“I told you getting dressed together would never work.” The Faery

King tsked.

“I didn’t want you in another room,” Salvatore muttered, blushing

lightly. Destin grinned knowingly.

“Yeah, I know.” The King gave Salvatore a sweet kiss before

rolling over and retrieving the clothing that they’d thrown off the bed
in an effort to get to each other. He pulled his shirt over his head and
met the eyes of his lover. “What’s wrong, Salvatore?” The Demon
Prince hesitated. “Tell me. No more secrets. Remember?”

Salvatore nodded. “I know it’s silly, but”—he paused—“after this

ceremony everything is going to change. It won’t be just me and my
Ravyns versus all the worlds and mercenaries in them. We’ll have a
legitimate fighting force. A full-scale war will begin.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted, dragon boy? To be able to go home

and claim your throne?”

“Of course, but I never imagined it would happen.” Salvatore

grabbed his pair of loose pants off the floor. They were fae wear, but
he’d developed a penchant for the flowy material. He let his magick
out, and the wings at his back sprang to full form, fluttering gently.
He pulled his pants on and opened his arms for Destin, knowing that
he wouldn’t have to wait long. His fae didn’t disappoint. The Fae
King pressed kisses to the muscle of his chest, his hands tracing
Salvatore’s spine as he returned the embrace.

“I never expected to fall in love and marry a Demon Prince either,

Salvatore,” Destin murmured against his chest. “I never imagined I
could love someone as much as I love you.” His lover was about to
say something profound. He just knew it. Destin had a knack for
making sense out of Salvatore’s dilemmas. “Sometimes we are put on
paths that lead us, not where we expect to go, but where we are meant
to go. That’s what destiny is. Every step you’ve taken has led you
back to the same goal that you started with. For better or worse, this is
your path.”

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“And you are my Destiny, Saoi.” Salvatore tipped Destin’s head

back and claimed his lover’s lips in a gentle kiss. He’d never spoken
truer words. No matter what happened in the future, Salvatore knew
he could count on this man to be with him through it all. Knowing
that Destin was here for him, knowing that he would be his support
through thick and thin, gave Salvatore a profound sense of peace and
determination. They would fight. They would triumph. There was no
other acceptable outcome.

“Come on, dragon boy,” Destin said, tugging his arms so that they

moved toward the door. “Let’s go make you some more Ravyns.”

Salvatore twined their fingers together so that they could walk

side by side on the path they’d chosen, embracing their fate as equals,
partners, and lovers together until the worlds’ ends.

THE END

HTTP://JANADOWNS.WEBS.COM/

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jana Downs lives in the beautiful mountains of western North

Carolina with three cats, one dog, several dozen fish, and a very
understanding partner-in-crime who hates to read but makes
exceptions for her stories.

You can usually find her either watching bad reality TV, buying

way too many books on Amazon, or dreaming up another man or two
to occupy her time because life is good but several drop-dead
gorgeous nonexistent men is just better.

Also by Jana Downs

Siren Allure ManLove: Ravyn Warriors 1: Ravyn’s Blood

Siren Allure ManLove: Ravyn Warriors 2: Ravyn’s Heart

Available at

BOOKSTRAND.COM

 

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com