Captain Jisten and high priest S’Rak have accepted the bond the Gods meant for them to share, saving one another in the process. Now they must formalize their union and seek a blessing before Jisten’s people. But amidst the celebrations, trouble is brewing.
The false sun priest, exposed for the chaos mage he is, turns on his watchers, striking at those who’d called him friend. His ultimate goal is to destroy the Victory Prophecy by murdering Prince Jethain. Only a dragon, a captain, and a high priest stand in his way. What price will the trio pay to save the prince?
More From The Dark Servant
The early dawn was the best time to hunt hares, according to the stable boys. The three avtappi ambled along the clay path, ears pricked and nostrils quivering as they searched for prey. Rak sat easily on Vyld’s saddle, lost in thought. The avtappi pricked their ears first, hearing something that Rak couldn’t. Zala looked happiest and stamped her hoof. Jisten jogged into view.
Rak admired the view. He didn’t speak, he just looked, a slight smile on his lips. Sweat runneled down Jisten’s chest, outlining the muscles there against the thin shirt. His long runner legs spread to their full span, those muscles well outlined as well.
Jisten looked over, saw them, and his stride faltered. “S’Rak?”
“Xai’εtε, Jisten. Are we disturbing you?” Rak’s lust surged and he clamped down on it automatically.
Jisten jogged over. “No, want to join me?” He ran in place.
“A runner, I am not,” laughed Rak easily.
“Stay on Vyld then.” Zala whuffled Jisten’s face. He patted her nose, then started running and glanced back. “Hurry!”
Zala trotted after him, tail swishing. Vyld followed on Zala’s heels, while Vrema cantered to catch up.
Rak left off meditating for the far more entertaining occupation of admiring Jisten’s body. Every now and then, Jisten looked over his shoulder and flashed a brilliant smile. Rak always returned the smile with great warmth. Zala imaged Vyld covering her and swished her tail. Vyld snorted smokily, curving his neck. His gait altered to the fancy parade trot. Zala lockstepped with him. They reached a small, secluded pond tucked away in a tiny valley lined with ferns.
Jisten slowed and put his hand on Rak’s thigh. “Want to take a rest stop?”
“Ai. What a lovely little valley.”
“It’s a gem I admire often, and the water is refreshing. Not as cold as the lake, but still enjoyable.” Jisten stripped off his sweaty shirt.
Rak sighed in appreciation, paying no attention to what his mate was actually saying. Jisten grinned and slipped off his pants, leaving only his shorts.
Rak threw a leg over Vyld’s withers and slid down the stallion’s side. He landed lightly, shedding himself of tunic and pants. Rak swept his hands down Jisten’s body, caressing the firm, sweaty skin. Jisten clasped Rak to him and kissed him deep and hard. Rak’s wings cupped around them as he moaned, desire swelling. Now it was Jisten’s hands that explored, stroking Rak’s wings out. Rak’s hands slid down Jisten’s backside and under the waistband of the shorts. One of Jisten’s hands reached between Rak’s buttocks, but the other continued to stroke wing.
Rak licked Jisten’s ear. “I thought you wanted to swim.”
Jisten rubbed Rak’s opening. “Yes, let’s.”
Rak pushed Jisten away without warning and sprang for the pond. “Last one in sucks basilisk eggs!”
Jisten sprinted past Rak, who flapped his wings in an attempt to accelerate, but Jisten plunged in a hair ahead of him. “Hope those eggs taste good!” Jisten teased.
Rak burst out laughing. “They are inedible,” he admitted. “Unless you happen to be a wyvern.”
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