Chapter 12
The apartment was eerily silent as Dasan Calypte crept down the hall. It wasn’t in his nature to be quiet or use caution any longer, but he was a hummingbird on a mission. His head was also spinning. Since being apprehended by the fallen knights, Dasan’s life had changed dramatically.
He had a new government to learn about and a future to figure out, but most importantly, he’d gone from cheap hotel rooms to a swanky apartment.
However, the furnishings made little difference to Dasan.
He’d grown up privileged, and he’d easily left it behind. In fact, he barely recalled those days.
His nose scrunched as a plague of old memories filled his mind.
Dasan tugged out the magnets he always kept in his pocket and rolled them between his fingers.
In front of him was a closed door, and he couldn’t focus on his next task if he was being pummeled by the past. His former life didn’t matter.
With no remorse, he’d changed his name and set out on his own.
Now he had a best friend, and he’d assigned himself a purpose.
The thought made him grin, and Dasan squared his shoulders as he knocked on the door.
His gaze flicked from one end of the hall to the other.
If Gram knew what he was up to, he might not approve, and Dasan didn’t want to piss off his pal.
The door opened to reveal a gargoyle-cougar hybrid with light yellow-green eyes that offered Dasan no hint as to whether the tall Colburn was a friend or foe.
“Hey, can I talk to you and your twin for a sec?” Dasan asked, bouncing from one sneaker to another. At five-three, Dasan was used to looking up at people, but he swore nearly everyone Gram knew was a freaking giant.
“Now?” Colburn asked. It was late, and everyone had retired for the night. In fact, Colburn was already wearing some bright-ass pajamas with cute little worms on them. “It’s late.”
“Duh, we need some privacy for this. Let me in?”
With a shrug, Colburn stepped out of the doorway, and Dasan barreled into the room. Crispin was already tucked under his covers and had a book in his hands.
“Hey,” Dasan said with an awkward wave. “Sorry for barging in on you guys, but I wanted to talk to you both.”
Crispin closed his book and set it on the table between his and Colburn’s wide beds. “If you’re here to convince us to be close friends with Gramlithyn again, save your breath. He needs to approach us directly, not send his new bestie over to do his dirty work.”
Dasan scoffed. “Please, that’s his problem.
I’m here on my own mission, dude. You guys are mad.
I can tell that, and I don’t even know you.
But I can’t explain anything about what happened because I wasn’t there and I’m trying to figure stuff out as I go.
Gram didn’t tell me about any of this shit. ”
“How can you guys be close friends if you don’t know his past?” Colburn asked as he settled on his bedspread.
As was Dasan’s habit, he paced. He shared his soul with an active bird. His little beast was a ray of sunshine in Dasan’s life—a calm, steady presence that soothed him daily—but he was also energetic. If Dasan was awake, he was moving.
“Easy, dude. Not everyone wants to talk about history,” Dasan countered. “We’re worried about the present. The years before we met weren’t important.”
The twins shared a skeptical look, but Dasan would not explain further. He’d easily accepted Gram’s choice not to mention where he’d come from or what he’d left behind because Dasan was unwilling to discuss his own past.
“So, if Gramlithyn didn’t send you to our room, why are you here?” Colburn asked.
“My head’s been spinning,” Dasan revealed.
“You both are probably experiencing the same thing. You were shocked when Gram and Pyxlevir told us they were mates. Oh, and we were all moving into this place together. Now, I’m not getting in the middle of shit.
Gram and Pyxlevir obviously have stuff they need to discuss.
It’s really not my business. But here’s the thing…
have you ever had, like, a voice inside you that you trust? ”
“We’re shifters with two separate beasts,” Colburn mused. “Yeah, there are always powerful voices in my head.”
“Wow,” Dasan exclaimed, his feet faltering so he nearly face-planted. “I knew you were hybrids, but are you telling me you can shift into two different animals?”
“Yep. We have cougars and gargoyles,” Colburn replied with a proud grin.
“For fuck’s sake, that’s the coolest shit I’ve ever heard.
I’m so jealous.” Dasan shook his head to clear it and resumed his pacing.
“Okay. I need to see both of your beasts for sure. Or should it be two beasts of you both? I don’t know.
Not the point right now, but seriously, everything I’ve learned in the past couple of days is stretching my gray matter.
Can heads explode from too much information?
Like, if it’s all good shit and you get excited?
But anyway, I trust my gut. What my soul is telling me right now is that Fate can be trusted. ”
“With you so far,” Crispin said, his hand moving in a go on gesture.
“Something is telling me this Gram and Pyxlevir thing could work out. I don’t know why.
I know nothing about Pyxlevir except that he’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.
It’s weird. I look at magazines and see gorgeous people, but it’s lighting, make-up, and all that stuff to make them appear their best. But Pyxlevir is real.
That probably doesn’t make sense, but Gram is a lucky dude, that’s what I’m saying.
You guys are close to Pyxlevir, and shit is weird, but they agreed to give this a fair shot.
I want to make sure they get that. Not that I want to interfere, but if I can disappear from a room or something to give them ample opportunity to talk or whatever, I’m going to do it. ”
The twins shared an unreadable glance, and Colburn sighed.
“I want to believe them,” Colburn remarked.
“I trust them. But I also know six years have passed since they were friends. Pyxlevir is pissed. He must be. I think he has a right to be. However, I remember how close they were. They were connected in a way that went beyond the friendship we had with either of them.”
“Agreed,” Crispin added. “I think they have things to overcome, but I’m with you, Dasan. Fate chose them for a reason. Before Gramlithyn left, it would’ve been easy to understand why. Can they get there again? I don’t know. We’re adults now, and they were kids then.”
“But we were taught to respect Fate,” Colburn said. “To trust that she knows better than us. Does she in this case? It’s impossible to know right now. What exactly are we agreeing to do?”
“Not much,” Dasan replied. “We don’t have to create elaborate plans or anything. All I’m suggesting is that we give them every opportunity to discover if they have stuff left in common. Simple shit. Everyone is watching a show together? The three of us slink out like snakes.”
Colburn grinned. “Okay, that’s easy enough, and I think I’ve got our first adventure. Tomorrow, we need to get some groceries. We wait until we get to the store and disappear. The three of us are shifters, we’ll grab meat and stuff together. They can hang out in the veggie and fruit section.”
“I’m cool with that as long as we get more than meat,” Dasan said. “I don’t eat much of it.”
“Thoughts on ice cream?” Colburn asked.
Crispin rolled his eyes. “Be careful how you answer. My brother is notorious for putting all kinds of weird shit in ice cream. Gummy worms. Nuts. Dried fruit. Whipped cream. Fresh fruit. Chocolate sauce. Caramel sauce. And literally anything you can imagine.”
“Those are good options, dude,” Dasan defended.
“At the same time?” Crispin asked skeptically.
“Honestly, sounds delicious,” Dasan replied.
“Ah, a new partner in crime,” Colburn enthused, rubbing his hands together. “We’ll pick out some yummy stuff tomorrow.”
“Cool,” Dasan said, heading for the door. He grabbed the knob, then offered the twins a brave smile. “Who knows, maybe the three of us will even become friends in the next twelve months.”
“Dasan, did Gramlithyn mention the D’Vaires to you?” Crispin asked.
Dasan nodded. “Some big clan of families that are super tight. They have a sanctuary for freaks.”
“I hope he explained that he’s a D’Vaire,” Colburn said. “And that you’re now one too. That makes us more than friends, Dasan. We’re family.”
“Okay, now you’ve made it weird that I’ve spent the last couple of days drooling over how hot every D’Vaire I meet is,” Dasan complained while he and his bird internally rejoiced at being included.
He wasn’t sure yet if he was willing to open himself up to having a large circle of close friends and family, but the opportunity was tantalizing. Loneliness didn’t suit him.
“How hot am I on your scale?” Colburn asked.
“Can’t tell you now that you’ve made it freaky,” Dasan teased with a cheeky grin and, with another wave, disappeared into the hall. His task had been a success, and Dasan promised himself he’d do anything necessary to ensure Gram found happiness with his mate.
With a joyful hop, Dasan turned to race toward his room and immediately collided with a solid object that squeaked.
“Oof,” Dasan managed. He reached out to steady the other person but faltered when he realized it was Pyxlevir.
Elves weren’t to be touched, and especially not if they were another person’s mate.
However, his reluctance came at a cost. Pyxlevir teetered farther forward, and Dasan cursed as his spine reached the apex of its bendability.
A second later, Dasan crashed onto his ass. The air rushed from his lungs as Pyxlevir landed on top of him.
“Ow,” Pyxlevir grumbled.
“Shit. Sorry. Fuck,” Dasan said. His instinct was to aid Pyxlevir, but nothing in the book he was reading about Council life told him how to handle having an elf sprawled over him. “I don’t know what to do. Fucking hell. Could you get off me?”
Pyxlevir shot upright, his mouth wide open as he stared at Dasan in disbelief. “You…what…I’m trying!” the elf exclaimed indignantly.
“Okay, but I’m not supposed to be touching you, and it’s really freaking me out,” Dasan yelled.
For a split second, Pyxlevir’s face blanked. Then he sat back on his heels and burst into laughter.
“You’re still on my leg,” Dasan complained as he yanked his limb away from a chortling Pyxlevir.
“Sorry,” Pyxlevir snorted through his chuckles.
Finally free from offending Pyxlevir and every race of elves by touching one without permission, Dasan breathed a sigh of relief. But he didn’t get up. He was too taken aback by the stunning Pyxlevir falling into a fit of giggles.
“What’s so funny?” Dasan ventured. “Am I about to be arrested or something? What is the punishment for touching an elf? It’s not death, is it? Because I didn’t see you until it was too late.”
“Because I wasn’t watching where I was going, apparently,” Pyxlevir mused, his eyes wet with hilarity.
“Sorry, I was lost in thought, and I stare at my feet if I’m overthinking something.
But there’s no law against touching an elf, especially if they fall on you.
It’s just a custom to respect our desire not to be touched. ”
“Well, I didn’t ask your permission, so I wasn’t going to touch you,” Dasan said, happy he hadn’t already offended Gram’s mate.
“That’s very kind of you, but if I fall on you again, you have my permission to shove me out of the way,” Pyxlevir replied, still grinning.
“Could I get that in writing?” Dasan asked. “Because it might not be breaking the law, but you’re related to a lot of big beefy centaurs, and they look like the type of guys who could rip me apart if they chose.”
“They’re overprotective, but they’re actually big teddy bears,” Pyxlevir said. “Can I help you up?”
Pyxlevir stood and held out a hand, but Dasan ignored it. He was overjoyed that Pyxlevir found humor in the situation, but he wasn’t taking any unnecessary chances.
“I’m good,” Dasan responded, bounding to his feet. “Is it weird that something about you makes me want to do a grand gentlemanly gesture like ask you if I should walk you to your door?”
“Yes, it’s weird, but I accept your offer. It’s the least I can do after smashing you into the floor.”
“When the adrenaline wears off and my heart is no longer in my throat, I’m probably going to find all the new places I have bruises,” Dasan offered conversationally as he strolled alongside Pyxlevir.
“My left elbow is stinging like a bitch, but I should heal in a few seconds.”
“I read that elves don’t use coarse language.”
“I’ve lived with centaurs since I was six. It’d probably be weirder if I didn’t swear.”
“That makes sense. Do you speak Elvish?” Dasan asked as they came to a stop in front of the largest bedroom in the condo. Gram had assigned it to Pyxlevir before anyone but him and Dasan had even seen the place.
“Ah, there are many, many dialects of Elvish, so you need to be specific,” Pyxlevir replied. “But yes, I speak Modern Elvish, used by most tribes, and the ancient Valzadari one.”
“If I wanted to learn Modern Elvish, could I practice with you?”
Pyxlevir’s brow creased for a split second, then his face lost all expression, concealing his emotions. “Sure, but I’m surprised you wouldn’t prefer to practice with Gramlithyn.”
“I didn’t know he spoke any kind of Elvish.”
Pyxlevir muttered something distinctly foreign under his breath and shook his head as he opened the door to his bedroom. “Sure, Dasan, I’d love to help you if you want to learn. Good night, and sorry again for flattening you in the hallway.”
“Thanks, sorry if I made it weird.”
“I’m a D’Vaire, I love it when things get weird,” Pyxlevir replied with a jaunty wave and a smile.
Dasan wondered yet again what alternative universe he’d walked into a few weeks ago and dearly hoped he wouldn’t find himself in his dreary reality anytime soon.