“If you want to work, you have plenty of contacts. Call up someone and tell them you’re looking.”
Gramlithyn snorted. “Yeah, because I have such an impressive track record. I had a fantastic job lined up at Elven D’Vaire, and I called days before I was supposed to start to say I was leaving town indefinitely.”
“Your parents are on the board of Elven D’Vaire. If nothing else, you have nepotism on your side if that’s where you want to work. Of course, if you don’t want to talk to Laconifel or Semira, that complicates things.”
“Exactly.”
“Call Ardusian,” Pyxlevir advised. “He has an opening on his team, and you don’t need experience in the industry or an education.”
“I’m surprised you’d offer Ardusian as an option. Wouldn’t I be the last person you’d want to work with daily?”
Pyxlevir laughed, and Gramlithyn’s zebra whinnied with joy at the lovely sound. “I’m not on Ardusian’s team any longer. For the past six years, I’ve worked my way up to be a junior executive. I have an assistant of my own, thank you very much.”
“This is going to sound weird, but sometimes it feels like the world stopped six years ago. At least for me. It’s not the same for everyone else. Life moved on. Mine didn’t really change.”
“That’s ironic because I envisioned you on adventures while I was sitting at a desk at work or burying my face in a book to study. I’m the one who lived in my old room with my family until we started sharing this apartment and has the same beads in my hair that my father started using for me at eighteen.”
Gramlithyn smiled ruefully as a clear vision of Pyxlevir’s horrified face on the morning he discovered their matebond filled his mind, reminding him that the zebra beads the elf had once worn with pride were gone. “You had different ones the last time I saw you.”
“I was rejected by my mate. Did you really expect me to cling to the past and keep the zebra ones in my hair? You made it clear plenty of times when we were teenagers that the last thing you wanted was to find your other half, but you can’t expect me not to take it personally. Or maybe I shouldn’t have. I don’t know. I don’t suppose it matters now. It stung. I asked for honesty, and that’s something I’m also willing to offer. You hurt my fucking feelings.”
Swallowing thickly, Gramlithyn rubbed his hand over his mouth as he tried to sort his emotions. Pyxlevir’s confession was shocking, which was stupid. Even if Pyxlevir didn’t want to be with Gramlithyn, it was still gutting to be rejected. But it didn’t sit well with Gramlithyn or his zebra to think of Pyxlevir in pain—especially since he was responsible for it.
“I’m sorry,” Gramlithyn whispered. “I’m not sure what else to say. You cried. The day you learned about Fate. About you and me. What I remember most is your tears. I thought leaving would be easier for us both so we weren’t forced into a matebond we didn’t want. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I guess no matterwhat I did, that was inevitable. Fate made her decision, and we have to deal with the consequences one way or another.”
Pyxlevir scowled. His mouth opened as if he had something to say, but he snapped it closed again without uttering a sound. He slid off his stool. With his hands braced on the counter, he dragged in a deep breath. Pyxlevir walked around the island and stood across from Gramlithyn with his chin tilted upward.
Their eyes locked. At twenty-four, Pyxlevir was more stunning than he’d been at eighteen. The overhead light lovingly caressed his high cheekbones. Pyxlevir bit his lip, and Gramlithyn ignored the punch of lust in his gut. His zebra, on the other hand, exulted in the beauty of their other half.
“I did cry,” Pyxlevir eventually said softly. “Because my head was full of memories. I stood there being bombarded with every time you told me the last thing you wanted was to find your mate. You wanted to be alone. To find yourself. To blaze a future for yourself. You weren’t ready. And Fate had taken our choices away. In that moment, we were trapped. That wasn’t what I wanted for either of us.”
“That’s why I left. So we wouldn’t be trapped, Pyx.”
“Distance changes nothing. We’re still mates. You can run as far and as fast as you want, but unless we go through with separation papers and have our matebond severed, we’re stuck. No matter what, we had to face this someday. You can try to rationalize it however you want, but the reality remains the same.”
Gramlithyn crossed his arms and squeezed his eyes shut. “You deserve honesty. I’m doing my best to find my courage and give it to you. On some level, I thought you’d be happy I was out of your face.”
“You were my best friend; why would you think that?” Pyxlevir demanded.
“Because being best friends isn’t the same fucking thing as being matched by Fate.”
“Of course not. I’m not stupid, I know that.”
Their gazes locked again. “One thing I’ve never doubted is your intelligence. You were never shy about what you wanted in life. We shared everything. You wanted a mate. I know that. We even had discussions about what kind of mate you envisioned yourself with. Not once did the words zebra, elf, or hybrid cross your lips. I figured out Fate had paired us first. I already knew it wasn’t going to be a welcome revelation when I showed up at your house on your eighteenth birthday.”
“Wait,” Pyxlevir demanded, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer to Gramlithyn. “Is that why you accused me of putting other shifters above zebras on that last call when you told me you weren’t coming back? Because I’ve never thought of zebras as being less than anything else, and it still pisses me off that you think I’m some kind of shifter classist or something.”
“Shifters are equal in your head. I know that. But that’s not the same as wanting every kind as your other half for eternity.”
“It sounds like you made a lot of assumptions without giving me a chance to defend myself. It pissed me off then, and it’s doing the same right now.”
“Fine. I wasn’t brave enough at eighteen to be direct,” Gramlithyn said. “But hopefully I’ve matured a little. Here’s what I think. You like zebras. You like elves. Hybrids are also equal in your head. But that doesn’t mean you ever envisioned your future withme. I was who you were rejecting, not an entire group of shifters or whatever.”
“You’re right. I didn’t imagine a future with you.”
Although Gramlithyn had known that for many years, hearing the words fall from Pyxlevir’s lips was devastating. Pain tore through his chest, and his zebra whinnied tortuously in hishead. A tear slid down his cheek, but Gramlithyn didn’t bother to wipe it away. It was no more than he’d expected. If he wanted a matebond, he had to accept the truth and somehow convince Pyxlevir to consider him anyway.
“I’m sorry,” Gramlithyn murmured, but he wasn’t sure if he was apologizing to himself, his zebra, or Pyxlevir.
