“I am half elf. You probably noticed my pointed ears and green skin.”
“Duh, I know you’re an elf, but you don’t dress like one anymore. Hey, did you stop being an elf because Pyxlevir wanted to be with a shifter?”
Gramlithyn’s mouth dropped open. “Um…oh. Wow. I…uh…thought I didn’t want to be an elf because it was too restrictive.” Not once had it occurred to Gramlithyn that his desire to look like a shifter had anything to do with the fact thatPyxlevir hadn’t envisioned himself with an elf. Had that been an unconscious part of his decision to change his appearance?
“Because if you were a zebra, you could go bang other people and forget Pyxlevir existed?”
“It’s annoying how smart you are.”
“Dude. Your Pyxlevir is wearing zebra beads in his hair.”
“Yeah, he always did.”
“Why?”
“Because we were best friends?”
“Gram, do you see anything zebra on me right now?” Dasan asked, his blond brows furrowed.
“No, of course not.”
“I’m your best friend.”
“We were children, and he enjoyed having unique beads. I think it was his way of finding his individuality while maintaining traditional elven standards of style. He had centaur beads too.”
“You guys were super tight with Crispin and Colby then?”
“Absolutely. The four of us were together constantly as teenagers.”
“I’m not seeing any gargoyle or cougar beads.”
“Dasan, what are you getting at?” Gramlithyn asked, holding out his hand to get his phone back from the hummingbird.
“I’m not saying anything; it’s just interesting,” Dasan sang as he fluttered around the room. “But I wouldn’t mind asking Pyxlevir why he had those beads, which he wore constantly.”
“I still don’t know what you’re getting at, but Pyxlevir has always marched to his own drum. He was expressing himself in his unique way while not disrespecting the Valzadari.”
Dasan turned his head and stopped. “Was that the doorbell?”
“I didn’t hear anything, and I can’t imagine who else would visit; this apartment is already full of people.”
“I definitely heard it,” Dasan insisted. “We have visitors. Maybe it’s more hot guys for me to drool over.”
“Try getting a boyfriend or finding your mate.”
“Both of those options sound scary as fuck. I’ll stick to drooling, thank you.”
“Hey, Gramlithyn,” Aristos’s voice thundered through the door. “Your parents are here.”
“Oh, yay, I like them,” Dasan enthused. He whipped open the door and grinned at Semira and Laconifel as they walked down the hall toward the room Gramlithyn had chosen. It was the smallest in the apartment, which suited Gramlithyn fine. “Hi, Gram’s parents.”
“It’s great to see you again, Dasan,” Gramlithyn’s mother said.
Dasan’s face was a mixture of surprise and joy as Semira hugged him. “Gram didn’t tell me you guys were coming.”
“Because I didn’t know,” Gramlithyn responded as he greeted his parents with quick embraces.
“Kalthekor mentioned everyone was here and thought it’d be nice if we could all share a meal before they leave Pyxlevir and the twins in their new space,” Laconifel revealed. The disappointment in his voice made Gramlithyn feel like a slug. It hadn’t occurred to him to invite his parents, but in his defense, he hadn’t expected anyone to make dinner plans.
