Page 26 of Randall (The Tenth Step #3)
Darvon
Darvon threw back his head and laughed. He didn’t care that he probably looked foolish.
Their entire situation, from a cursed goddess sending his brother on a mission to bring together five sets of mates, to fighting the demonic presence invading their homeland, was bizarre and unbelievable.
And yet, it all was true. How had his life come to this?
He couldn’t even be upset about it because in his arms were the two men Fate had deemed perfect for him.
A skilled mage to take charge of leading them, a role he never wanted but had been thrust on him by his mother with Jarrah’s departure.
Plus, a playful shifter that appeased his trickster side.
Both protective of him, as he would be of them.
Glancing around the circle they made, his gaze alighted on Artor and Timur.
Although he was impressed with the size of the dragon-shifter holding the vampire, Darvon decided he liked the size of his mates best. Although he usually didn’t care much about nudity, there was, at the moment, a lot of flesh on display.
As he gathered the discarded tunic and turned Randall so his mate’s back was to the rest of the group, he spotted a black cat sitting in the middle of their circle and froze.
“What’s wrong?” Randall asked, twisting to look over his shoulder. “Ah. It’s fine. That’s Kat—with a K—she belongs to Valter.”
Darvon narrowed his eyes. “The cat is named Kat… This is the stowaway mentioned earlier?”
“Yes, but she’s special.”
“She better not be more special than me,” Flynn quipped, rubbing his body on Randall and showing off his tiny, sharp canines before gnawing lightly on our mate’s throat.
“Never,” Randall growled, tipping his head down to bite Flynn’s bare shoulder. He kissed his toothy impression before taking Flynn’s mouth with his own. Darvon became as breathless as they were just watching.
“We really should move this along,” Darvon said, adjusting his stiffened length to a more comfortable position. He wished Riverside was around the bend but suspected they still had hours of traveling left to do before reaching their destination, and the day was already half over.
He dragged the tunic over Flynn’s head as he spoke to Randall. “Go put him in the carriage while I check on everyone else.” Agreeing, his mates kissed his cheeks before Randall strode off with a clinging Flynn.
Darvon approached the milling soldiers first. “Don’t get too comfortable.”
Captain Lanter smirked. “We’ll be ready when you all are.”
“How far are we from Riverside, do you think?”
Lanter glanced at the sun’s position. “If we left now and kept the horses at an easy trot, we’d arrive by dusk. I’m thinking it’ll be full dark by the time we actually get there.” His gaze darted from mate group to mate group before coming back to rest on Darvon knowingly.
“Hey now, mine are already pulling themselves together.”
Darvon moved on to Valter, Baron, and wolfy-Duke next. They looked up from where they had been resting on a fallen log when he approached. Baron rose to his full height.
Valter backhanded Baron’s leg. “Be nice.”
Baron scoffed. “I’m always nice.”
“So it appears we have a new addition, and since you and your sons are the biggest, do you have something he could wear? I’m sure Artor would appreciate your help in covering up his mate.”
Baron hummed as he looked over at Timur. “That man is a mountain, but I'm sure we can provide trousers and a cloak.” He raised his voice. “Connor, bring a pair of your largest trousers for Prince Timur.”
The carriage rocked, the door opened, and Connor emerged from the dark interior, swaddled in a huge cloak, a pair of trousers dangling from its folds. He crossed to Artor and the dragon. “My lords.”
Timur accepted the offered garment. When he paled and almost tipped over trying to put them on, however, Artor snatched them away and crouched to help. Timur balanced with a hand on Artor’s and one on Connor’s shoulders. Once the dragon was somewhat clothed, Darvon moved in.
“Master Artor, Prince Timur, I am Prince Darvon, a member of this motley crew.” He swept a hand to the side. “I came to offer the use of my carriage for you to recuperate in. Captain Lanter suggests we not delay here too long if we are to reach Riverside by nightfall.”
Timur gratefully agreed, and Darvon waved to Randall and Flynn, seated side by side on the bench seat. Once Timur was inside, Darvon offered the vampire a choice. “Master Artor, if you wish to ride with your mate, I can ride your horse.”
“I would.” He clapped Darvon’s shoulder before climbing in and pulling the larger man to his chest. Artor’s nod was enough for Darvon, but he still said, “Many thanks, Your Highness.”
Darvon closed the door and found Baron seated atop his horse, thrusting a water bag and wine through the window.
Once Baron had his hands free, he passed the reins of a second horse to Darvon, who mounted the sleek mare and settled into the surprisingly comfortable saddle.
He didn’t hold much hope that his ass would remain happy by the time they reached the city.
Darvon glanced at his mates sitting on the bench seat. They were better things to ride.