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

by Jana Downs

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

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

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

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

  “What did you just say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Destin blinked. “Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nine Months Later

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

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

  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 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.”

  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 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 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 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?”

  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-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.