The Legend of Vanx Malic: Book 02 - Dragon Isle Read Online Free Page A

she had been bitten by the flower beast—he drew his hand back quickly. “But she’s not an acquaintance of the romantic sort. She tried to help me, and in the act of doing so she came to harm. I’m trying to help her in return and nothing more.”
    “Oh, there’s more, Vanx,” she chuckled as she spoke. “There is always more. This one will find you again, if you can save her, that is.”
    She brushed past him and started out of the sun house toward the cottage. “Come,” she called back over her shoulder. “I’ll prepare a wreath for you. You might seek the advice of the Goddess before you walk into the jaws of death, though. It’s plain for all who truly see that she favors you. Might be she can enlighten your addled young brain and point your life in a more proper direction.” With that she laughed again and swept up the three wooden steps that led into the back of her abode.

    The Zythian whore riding Prince Russet’s cock was as beautiful a creature as he had ever seen, save for her eyes, which she was keeping closed now because of his discomfort. Her satiny blouse was splayed open and her apple-sized breasts jiggled instead of bounced. Coin-sized areola with jutting strawberry-colored nipples made his mouth salivate for the taste of her. She was long and fit and her skin was like hot silk. She leaned back and squeezed his ankles and he felt her body squeezing his manhood too. A soft moan of pleasure escaped her, and when she bucked and licked her lips he couldn’t contain his seed any longer. He exploded inside her.
    The prince owed Sir Earlin one now; that was certain. The knight had insisted he sample the true delicacies of the island. Since they might soon be part of a pile of dragon shit, his argument hadn’t been all that strong. Now as he approached the table where the others sat he felt himself flushing with embarrassment and more than a little masculine pride as well.
    “Ya think he’s absconded, then?” Sir Earlin asked Captain Willington over their fifth or maybe sixth mug of honey fire.
    “I’ll wager not!” the captain said confidently.
    “As will I!” Trevin said before realizing he had no coin to his name to wager.
    Darbon slapped a small pouch of silvers down on the table with a clinking thud. “I’ll put all I’ve got to my name that he’s not run off!”
    There was a long silence then, each man eyeing the other in turn. No one, it seemed, was willing to put their money up that Vanx had abandoned the quest.
    “He’s visiting a friend, perhaps, or gathering information,” Prince Russet said with only the slightest bit of doubt in his voice. He resumed his seat and drank deeply from the goblet in front of him. “We all saw that the barmaid knew him by name.”
    “That’s what’s got my hackles up!” the captain slurred. “He’s got old Nepton’s blood in his veins, so he’s apt to be as slippery as a ribbon eel, mind you. He’s got the dark blood of the Northmen and this heathen blood in him, too.”
    This got a cross look from several of the Zythian fisherfolk who had wandered in throughout the course of the afternoon.
    “He’ll be along soon enough!” Trevin snapped at the table. “He didn’t have to come as far as he has on this, and you’ve no right, none of you, to doubt him now. Even if he’s walked away, he has earned the right!” Trevin’s eyes bored bravely into Prince Russet’s for a beat or two. “Parydon chains mean nothing here!”
    “If Vanx Malic wanted to deceive you lumps in any way, you’d be deceived!” This came from a tall Zythian with long, golden hair wearing the well-worn doeskin pants and hard boots of a seasoned wanderer. His arms and upper body were covered by an open jacket that looked like a sparkly sapphire jester’s top. A coiled black leather whip was at one hip and a narrow dirk, nearly as big as a sword, hung at the other. Strapped directly to his back were a bow case and quiver as tall as any of the men at the table