Inescapable Fate (D’Vaire #46)

Chapter 1

At six, Gramlithyn Verdanyth met Pyxlevir Valzadari.

They had become best friends instantly, and Gramlithyn woke up each morning eager to be with Pyxlevir.

Now Gramlithyn was eighteen and, in the eyes of his father’s elven tribe, an adult.

He still treasured spending as much time as possible with Pyxlevir.

But something had changed. A month ago, on his birthday, Gramlithyn had received the most terrifying gift possible.

Although he had long ago realized he was in love with Pyxlevir, he hadn’t wanted him as a mate.

In fact, the idea was so scary that Gramlithyn told anyone who’d listen that he did not want to find his other half.

That was a lie. What Gramlithyn wanted most was to spend the eternal life his elvish blood granted him at Pyxlevir’s side. Gramlithyn was a hybrid and had recently made his first shift into a zebra. Like his elven side, his beast yearned for Pyxlevir. Which added to Gramlithyn’s fear of the future.

Pyxlevir was an elf and lacked sexuality until he found his other half, but that didn’t stop Gramlithyn’s best friend from dreaming of a life with a partner.

Through the years, Pyxlevir had insisted he wanted to be paired with a centaur.

It made sense. Pyxlevir lived with the ruler of the centaurs because his father was mated to one of Archon Timotheus Centaurus’s brothers.

While Gramlithyn liked centaurs, they weren’t zebras.

It wasn’t a competition in Gramlithyn’s mind.

The issue was Pyxlevir never mentioned finding himself with a zebra, hybrid, or an elf.

In recent years, Pyxlevir had declared that he was open-minded about other races besides centaurs but still never included elves or zebras in those statements.

Gramlithyn was young but no fool. Pyxlevir didn’t want to be with a hybrid, an elf, or a zebra.

In short, he couldn’t envision himself with Gramlithyn.

A horrid truth to live with as Gramlithyn already knew Fate had paired them. In a month, on Pyxlevir’s eighteenth birthday, he would learn the truth too. It was a day that Gramlithyn wished he could escape. But he had to graduate from high school.

And then what? Gramlithyn wondered.

“Are you listening to me?” Pyxlevir asked, waving a sky-blue hand in Gramlithyn’s face.

As usual, Gramlithyn was at Pyxlevir’s side to enjoy his weekend.

It didn’t matter that Gramlithyn was slowly being torn into pieces; thanks to Fate, he and his beast yearned to be close to Pyxlevir.

At least for now. But rejection would be a bitter pill to swallow, and Gramlithyn wondered how his zebra would handle Pyxlevir’s reaction to learning about their matebond.

“Gramlithyn!” Pyxlevir shouted as he poked Gramlithyn in the belly.

“What?”

Pyxlevir rolled his eyes. Like his skin, they were blue, but a far richer azure.

His lashes were long, his cheekbones prominent, and his mouth was usually upturned into a smile.

Pyxlevir was a cheerful person with a heartbreakingly beautiful face.

Like Gramlithyn, his dark hair was long and featured many beads from the company Pyxlevir’s father ran.

A company that had used the gorgeous Pyxlevir to advertise its products since he was a child.

Gramlithyn could not imagine a more stunning model than his best friend and mate.

“What in the world are you daydreaming about?” Pyxlevir asked. “We have an important opportunity here, and if we don’t hurry, we’ll miss it.”

“Uh…”

Slapping his arm gently, Pyxlevir charged out of his bedroom and waved impatiently at Gramlithyn to follow him.

Pyxlevir’s elderly dog, Kalliope, lifted her head at the commotion in the room.

For nearly a dozen years she had always hopped up to join them on adventures, but now she opted to stay curled up on her heated bed instead.

“If you don’t want to tell me, no big deal,” Pyxlevir said. “But we need to speed this up if we’re going to take advantage of our night.”

Gramlithyn stalked after Pyxlevir and was grateful that his best friend never pressured him about anything.

If Gramlithyn didn’t want to talk about something, Pyxlevir was fine with patiently waiting him out.

They both knew that eventually they’d reveal their secrets to each other.

It was what they had done since they were six.

Except for one secret, but even that one Gramlithyn wouldn’t be able to keep forever.

“What opportunity are you talking about?” Gramlithyn asked. “I thought our only plans were to call Crispin and Colby to see if they wanted to hang out.”

As part of the large extended family of D’Vaires, Gramlithyn and Pyxlevir were lucky enough to have met two gargoyle-cougar twins as teenagers when the Royal Order of the Gargoyle joined the Council of Sorcery and Shifters.

The D’Vaires had quickly embraced the gargoyle ruling family of Hawthorne-Stones, and Pyxlevir and Gramlithyn had found two fantastic friends in Colburn and Crispin.

The four were usually together, and Gramlithyn loved hanging out with the affable duo.

“I already called them; they’re watching a movie at home, so it’s just us,” Pyxlevir said. “Which is probably for the best if we don’t want to get caught.”

“Get caught doing what?” Gramlithyn asked once they arrived in the kitchen and Pyxlevir finally stopped his journey through the large house. For an elf who barely stood five-foot-two, Pyxlevir moved as if he were a good foot taller when he was motivated to get somewhere swiftly.

Pyxlevir pulled two beers out of the fridge and grinned maniacally. “Everyone is out of the house tonight, so I think we should have a drink.”

Gramlithyn cocked his head to the side. “And you don’t think the centaurs are going to notice that some of the beers are missing? Ty knows where everything is in this kitchen.”

In the Centaurus household, Pyxlevir’s Uncle Tyndarios was the boss, and he kept everything running smoothly. Gramlithyn wouldn’t be surprised if Tyndarios had counted the beers before he left. Not that a mundane detail like that would stop a determined Pyxlevir. It never had in the past.

“Seriously, what are they going to do? It’s not like we can give the beer back,” Pyxlevir argued.

With a shrug, Gramlithyn took a bottle from Pyxlevir. He laughed as Pyxlevir opened his own beer and immediately drank half of it in one gulp.

“If you get drunk, you’re going to piss off your parents,” Gramlithyn warned.

“You and I will be fast asleep in my bedroom by the time they get home. No one will know if I get drunk.”

Gramlithyn fought off images of sharing a bedroom with Pyxlevir—as he truly wanted to—and decided beer was exactly what he needed to quiet the maelstrom in his mind.

To Pyxlevir’s delight and fervent giggles, Gramlithyn downed a beer in a single swallow.

Pyxlevir chuckled so hard that he had to lean against Gramlithyn, and the earthy scent of carrots filled Gramlithyn’s senses.

One thing Pyxlevir loved was carrots, so it charmed Gramlithyn that the moment he discovered the elf was his other half, he had been immediately assaulted by their aroma.

He was such a sap for anything about Pyxlevir.

That thought had Gramlithyn charging to the fridge and helping himself to another beer.

The more alcohol he could use to dull his thoughts, the better—no matter what consequences awaited him and Pyxlevir when their drink theft was eventually discovered.

∞∞∞

Pyxlevir Valzadari was the first to admit he had a privileged life.

As the only son of Chieftain Kalthekor Valzadari, he was treated well by the entire tribe his father ran.

At six, Pyxlevir’s father had met his second mate, and Chieftain-mate Aristos Centaurus-Valzadari had quickly become an important figure in Pyxlevir’s life.

Although he was a teenager and used to hearing his peers complain about their parents, Pyxlevir adored his folks and the uncles who shared their home. They spoiled Pyxlevir, but there were plenty of rules and responsibilities to keep him from becoming insufferable.

Or so he hoped.

Innately shy, Pyxlevir didn’t have a large group of friends.

In fact, for much of his short life, he’d had a single person he confided in.

Gramlithyn Verdanyth was his best friend.

Despite the addition of the gargoyle twins, Colburn and Crispin, to their little circle, Pyxlevir remained closest to Gramlithyn.

It was difficult to explain even to himself, but a sense of peace settled into his bones whenever Gramlithyn was nearby.

Pyxlevir mused that they were two puzzle pieces that had discovered they fit perfectly next to each other.

As two immortal souls, Pyxlevir imagined they’d share many secrets throughout eternity, and he couldn’t imagine his world without Gramlithyn brightening it.

They were almost always on the same wavelength.

Their interests were parallel, and their future goals were aligned.

Pyxlevir could already imagine the many centuries ahead where they would share meals with their mates and build lives side-by-side.

So, Gramlithyn’s announcement that afternoon caught Pyxlevir completely off guard.

“You want to do what?” Pyxlevir asked, his gaze locked on the handsome face of his closest friend.

Unfortunately, the brown eyes Gramlithyn had inherited from his zebra mother were serious as he stared back at him.

Like other Verdanyth elves, Gramlithyn had lovely skin the color of a ripe pear.

But as a hybrid, Gramlithyn was taller than his chieftain father and broader through the shoulders.

“Camping, Pyx,” Gramlithyn replied. “Colby and I thought it’d be fun to take a road trip and hit a few campsites.”