Chapter 11
Gramlithyn was under the same roof as Pyxlevir, but he was hiding in his bedroom. It was moving day, and the apartment was in chaos. There were centaurs and Hawthorne-Stones everywhere, helping the twins and Pyxlevir get settled. Since Gramlithyn and Dasan had brought their few belongings into the large space several days earlier, they had nothing to do.
Nothing except stay out of the way. Neither Pyxlevir nor the twins had ever lived anywhere but with their families. It was easy for Gramlithyn to imagine that their announcement had caused a ruckus—they were giving up their family homes to share an apartment with a stranger and someone they hadn’t seen in six years.
The last thing Gramlithyn wanted to do was hurt Pyxlevir or the twins, but he couldn’t envision another scenario that would aid him in rebuilding a relationship with his other half. A huge part of Gramlithyn remained shocked that the twins and Pyxlevir had agreed to his plan. But he shouldn’t have been surprised.
Despite his deep belief in tradition, Pyxlevir was likely eager to move on with his life, and that required him to endure a year with Gramlithyn to ultimately gain his freedom. Which was depressing as fuck and exactly what Gramlithyn deserved.
Sitting heavily on the bed, Gramlithyn sighed. A knock sounded, and he’d never been so grateful for a distraction to escape another inevitable wave of sadness and regret. Rising, he opened the door, and Dasan grinned at him.
“The apartment is full of giant grumbling dudes,” Dasan announced as he squeezed past Gramlithyn to enter his bedroom.
“I warned you there would be a lot of people around today,” Gramlithyn replied as he closed them into his space.
“Yeah, but in my head, I was expecting some massive people helping the twins, but a bunch of gorgeous blue elves here for Pyxlevir.”
“I told you his father is mated to a centaur.”
“Yeah, but not that the literal leader of the centaurs is Pyxlevir’s uncle,” Dasan complained. “I’m still learning this Council stuff, and I’m not trying to insult anyone…especially not if they’re related to your mate.”
Gramlithyn’s mouth quirked. “We’re here in this apartment to start the process of dissolving my matebond by spending a year under the same roof.”
“Nope, that’s not what I heard. You and Pyxlevir are going to give this whole thing a shot to discover if Fate was right. The way I see it, you’re more likely to complete your matebond than end it.”
“You literally just met Pyxlevir; how did you draw that conclusion?” Gramlithyn said, getting comfortable on his bed as Dasan pulled magnets out of his pocket and paced.
“Okay, let’s start with the obvious, which is looks. Pyxlevir is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my life. Next is compatibility. Like friendship and shit, not sex because I read that elves can’t get freaky until after their ceremony, so you have to keep it in your pants. You haven’t told me shit. That’sweird enough, but you were obviously close at some point or you wouldn’t have run away for six years. I bet Fate got things right.”
Gramlithyn shook his head. “I wanted to believe that. Deep in my soul, I wanted that. I still do. But I met Pyxlevir at six. We were inseparable. We talked about mates a million times because that’s what you do. You dream about your future and tell your best friend. First, he wanted a centaur. Was literally obsessed with the idea. Then it was a bunch of other shifters. Everything but a zebra. Not even in his craziest fantasies could he imagine himself with someone like me. I’ll never forget how shocked he was the day he discovered it. He was also gutted. I remember that. So yeah, I ran away because I didn’t have the strength to stay.”
“Well, you have to convince him to consider a zebra. And you have your work cut out for you because he’s pissed at you now.”
“Thanks, Dasan, I figured that out.”
“Don’t get pissy, I’m here to help,” Dasan enthused with a hop. “And I want to make friends with everybody because they seem cool. I’d never heard of a gargoyle shifter until I met the twins.”
“All three of them are fantastic people; you’ll love them, and the feeling will be mutual, trust me.”
Dasan scoffed, and his enthusiasm waned for a moment, showing the troubled man hidden beneath his vibrant personality. “Right, because I have such an impressive track record with people. You’re literally my only friend.”
“That’s because most of the planet is full of jerks, but you’re about to be dragged into the world of D’Vaire,” Gramlithyn explained. “It’s a huge clan of interconnected families, and every one of them is beautiful on the inside and outside. At the center is the High Court of D’Vaire, and they runa sanctuary made for freaks. People like you and me who fit in few places.”
“I read about the sanctuary. You think I could get in there?”
“Now you want to leave your best friend? I need you here to help me.”
Dasan rolled his eyes and resumed his march through the bedroom, his vulnerability once again hidden beneath his sunny disposition. “Not right now, but after you and Pyxlevir are holed up in some little love nest braiding each other’s hair and whatever else elves do.”
“I don’t wear my hair braided anymore, and you’re going where I do unless you want something different.”
“Wait, you used to wear your hair braided?”
Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Gramlithyn went into the vast gallery of photos he flipped through almost daily. He picked out a photo taken a year before everything in his world was upended. The picture was one of favorites—just him and Pyxlevir sitting together wearing bright grins. It was like a shot of serotonin every time Gramlithyn looked at it.
He handed the device to Dasan, and his best friend smiled as he moved his fingers to zoom in on the image.
“You look like an elf,” Dasan exclaimed.
