“Could be,” Pyxlevir replied, grateful that the shift in conversation had abated his weeping. There would likely be many more tears to follow, but he was grateful to have shoulders to lean on now. “Elf is a hybrid, and he wears both traditional elven attire and contemporary choices like shifters.”
Emperor Ellery Draconis, or Elfas he was known to his entire community of D’Vaire family and friends, was the co-ruler of the Council and a hybrid of elf and dragon. He prided himself on honoring every part of himself and elegantly straddled the line between both races.
“I have so many questions,” Colburn muttered. “Let’s focus on one thing at a time. We’re gonna let Gramlithyn figure out the apartment thing and get packing, I guess.”
“I fucking hate packing,” Crispin groused.
“Same,” Pyxlevir replied. “And I haven’t moved since I was six.”
“Any clue how we’re going to handle our families?” Crispin asked. “At both our houses, people are going to freak the fuck out when we announce that we’re moving out.”
“The question we should ask ourselves right now is how to do we explain this,” Colburn countered. “We’re moving in together to help Pyxlevir and Gramlithyn figure out their relationship, but the matebond is a secret. So, how do we tell our families that we suddenly decided we need a change of fucking scenery?”
“Well, our best friend has returned after six years,” Pyxlevir said. “Maybe we keep it simple. We want to reconnect with Gramlithyn, and we’re giving it a year to see how it works?”
“What happens if you and Gramlithyn decide Fate was right?” Colburn asked. “Are you moving out permanently?”
The thought of leaving his parents and uncles was harrowing, but Pyxlevir couldn’t be selfish. If Fate had paired him with Gramlithyn and they could fix everything that was currently broken, they would have to decide together how to navigate the future. Gramlithyn had parents too and would possibly want to move back in with them.
“I don’t want to,” Pyxlevir whispered.
“Then we add convincing Gramlithyn to move in with the centaurs as part of our job,” Crispin decided.
“One step at a time, remember,” Colburn insisted. “We’re going to overwhelm ourselves with too much forward thinking. Right now, we have to convince the wonderful, loving, and overprotective people in our lives that we’re moving out for ayear to rebuild our lost friendship with Gramlithyn. There will be bitching. We’ll have too many boxes to fill. It’s going to suck. But we’ll be there for each other. Pyx, this shit is going to be hardest on you, but we know the truth now. No more bottling things up. Tell us how you’re feeling, okay?”
Pyxlevir smiled. “Okay, deal. At the moment, I’m fucking sad that my mate doesn’t want to be with me. I’m pissed that he left. I hate that he has a new best friend, but I’m also glad he’s not alone if that makes sense. And the last thing I want to do is tell my parents that I’m moving out. However, this is it. The last chance to figure out if Fate was right.”
“Did you find out on your eighteenth birthday?” Colburn asked. “When did Gramlithyn discover it?”
“I don’t know. I guess on his eighteenth birthday? Or does it work differently because he’s a hybrid, and his zebra discovered it earlier? We haven’t talked about it. In fact, we’ve had very few conversations since I learned the truth. I was in shock on my birthday, so I didn’t say much. He’d made it clear he didn’t want a mate countless times. I guess I assumed he needed to freak out. The next thing I knew, he was announcing that he’s taking a longer trip, and he showed up six years later.”
“How does running away solve anything?” Colburn growled.
“We’re not getting mad,” Crispin insisted. “I’m sorry it worked out like that, Pyx. You deserve better from your mate.”
“Damn right you do,” Colburn added.
“Yes, I do, and no matter if my mate is Gramlithyn or, Fate forbid, his replacement, I’m not taking any more shit from my other half,” Pyxlevir vowed. “So, if Gramlithyn wants any chance of a future with me, he has explaining to do and some promises he needs to make for the future.”
∞∞∞
Two weeks later, Pyxlevir was in his bedroom and trying not to wince at the way his father, Aristos, was grumbling. Pyxlevir hadn’t expected Gramlithyn to move so swiftly, but within days of presenting his idea of moving in together to the gargoyle-cougar twins, he had a short list of properties for them to consider. With Dasan’s help, Gramlithyn had toured options and had smartly narrowed it to three choices in buildings with full-service kitchens. Each place was already decorated, so they’d have to pack clothes and personal belongings but not furnishings.
Which made things only slightly less intimidating when announcing to his family that he was leaving, Pyxlevir noted. As he’d suspected, the centaurs weren’t happy. Neither was Pyxlevir. In his naïve daydreams of a happily-ever-after with Gramlithyn, he’d somehow always imagined them sharing a roof with the centaurs. Pyxlevir still considered it a future option, but as his friends kept reminding him, not every issue needed to be sorted now.
Nothing had changed in Pyxlevir’s relationship with Gramlithyn in the past few weeks. There was a group chat to discuss living arrangements, and it was more businesslike than any meeting Pyxlevir had attended as part of his duties at Elven D’Vaire. Was Gramlithyn truly willing to let his guard down to consider their matebond, or was this entire thing a means to an end?
“Do you want Centy in a box, or are you leaving your stuffed animals behind?” Aristos asked, holding the stuffedcentaur he’d given Pyxlevir on the day they met protectively against his broad chest.
“As if I’m going anywhere without my stuffed animals or Leydira,” Pyxlevir chided, referring to the doll Aristos had purchased for him on their first trip to a toy store together. “They’re the closest thing I have to siblings since you and Dad haven’t bothered to have any other kids. You can put Centy in the basket on my bed. My new room doesn’t have shelves like here, so I thought they could all hang out in a basket on the dresser.”
“We’ve explained to you that two men cannot have children together,” Kalthekor said as he carried the basket to Aristos, who gently set Centy inside.
“Neither of you can give birth, but adoption exists,” Pyxlevir corrected.
“Well, we already have a son, and we didn’t think he’d be abandoning us,” Aristos barked.
Kalthekor cleared his throat and gave his mate a warning glance. “Aris, Pyxlevir has the right to make his own choices. That does not mean he is abandoning anyone.”
