Chapter 16
Each month, every person connected to the D’Vaire clan made the trek to the enormous mansion owned by High Kings Aleksander and Rafe, and despite the change to his living arrangements, Pyxlevir wasn’t missing a moment with his extended family.
The second his workday was completed, he’d rushed home to grab essentials.
Now, Pyxlevir was ready to indulge in whatever wild, wacky shenanigans awaited him in Arizona.
He left his bedroom, looking forward to being in a more comfortable environment. Like his suite at the Centaurus homestead, he’d decorated his space at D’Vaire, and he loved the blues and soft purples he’d chosen in both houses. In the living room, Pyxlevir found the twins already waiting for him.
“Ready?” Pyxlevir enthused.
“Yep,” Colburn replied. “Hey, Gramlithyn, are you and Dasan ready to go?”
“Wait, where are we going?” Dasan asked as he bounded into the room.
“We’re going to D’Vaire,” Colburn answered. “Everyone in the family gathers once a month. I thought you guys knew. Sorry, we should’ve let you know it was this weekend.”
“It’s fine,” Gramlithyn said. “My mom sent me a text on Monday. I told her I wasn’t going, but I hope you guys have fun.”
Dasan’s mouth fell open comically, and his gray-green eyes widened. “You didn’t tell me anything about a weekend trip. I’ve read that Council book and seen those D’Vaire guys. They’re super hot. Can I go?”
“Yes, they are,” Colburn replied with a chuckle. “And of course you can. There are plenty of guest rooms. Gramlithyn, are you sure you don’t want to join us? This apartment is going to be lonely as fuck without any of us.”
“Come on, Gram, you gotta introduce me to everyone and point out my faux pas,” Dasan insisted with a hop. “What is the plural of faux pas? Faux pases?”
“No, it’s faux pas,” Pyxlevir explained. “It’s both singular and plural. Like sheep.”
“Fuck, and I’ve been calling them sheeps my whole life,” Dasan said. “My education was shit. Maybe I should go back and learn something. The Council is all braggy in that book about school, at least the wizard stuff. Maybe they’d let my dumb ass in.”
“I went to the Spectra Academy,” Gramlithyn replied. “It’s definitely an excellent school.”
“Dude, not sure you’re the finest example. You make shitty choices constantly,” Dasan countered with a cheeky grin.
Gramlithyn rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to rebuke his friend.
“I also graduated from the Spectra Academy,” Pyxlevir said. “So did Colby and Crispin. Now we’re productive members of society. You can trust us. Crispin works for the Royal Order of the Gargoyle, and Colby is a valued employee of Gargoyle Security.”
“Once we graduated from the Spectra Academy, the three of us continued our education at Starlight University,” Crispin supplied. “But Pyxlevir is the only one in our little group with his master’s degree, so his advice is usually the best because he’s definitely the smartest among us.”
“That’s not true; my decision to continue my education doesn’t make me smarter, just more willing to suffer for scholastic accomplishment,” Pyxlevir responded with a rueful shake of his head.
“Congratulations,” Gramlithyn said. “You didn’t have plans to get your master’s when we were kids, but I’m not surprised. You’ve always been smart and loved school.”
“We qualified for the Spectra Academy on the same day,” Pyxlevir reminded Gramlithyn. “But none of that matters right now. Are you guys going to get packed so we can head to D’Vaire?”
“Come on, Gram, let’s go have fun with hot dudes,” Dasan insisted, wiggling both his shoulders and eyebrows. The little dance made Pyxlevir chuckle.
Gramlithyn blew out a breath. “Fine. Are you guys calling Dra’Kaedan to get a teleport?”
“Yep,” Colburn said. “Go get your shit.”
“Fuck yes,” Dasan cried out as he charged from the room. Gramlithyn followed at a hurried but far less enthusiastic pace.
“Why the fuck wouldn’t Gramlithyn want to come to D’Vaire?” Crispin asked once they were alone.
“Why does Gramlithyn make any decision these days?” Pyxlevir countered with a heavy batting of his lashes. “No one can answer that but the elf-zebra himself.”
“I’m starting to wonder if he even knows why he’s doing shit,” Colburn muttered.
Pyxlevir’s phone rang, and he was smiling by the time he lifted the device to his ear to answer it.
“Hi, Dra’Kaedan.”
“Your parents are badgering me because they haven’t seen you in forever,” Dra’Kaedan said without preamble. “Are you ready for me to come and get you? I need a picture of your snazzy new place.”
“Colby can send you a photo now, but give us a couple of minutes. We’re waiting for Dasan and Gramlithyn to grab their stuff.”
“Semira told me Gramlithyn wasn’t coming,” Dra’Kaedan said as Colburn lifted his phone to grab a photo for the Grand Warlock.
“We changed his mind. Or more accurately, Dasan did.”
“Good, I like him already.”
“I don’t know Dasan that well yet, but I think you’ll like him. He’s fun.”
“So are you, and I haven’t seen you in weeks,” Dra’Kaedan remarked. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too. Colby’s texting you now with the photo.”
“See you in a second,” Dra’Kaedan said and disconnected.
Pyxlevir chuckled. The leader of the small Coven of Warlocks popped into the living room with his tall dragon-shifting other half at his side. Before Pyxlevir had even disconnected their phone call, he was tugged into Dra’Kaedan’s embrace and squeezed enthusiastically. Pyxlevir held on and grinned.
Dra’Kaedan planted a kiss on his cheek and winked at him as they separated. Then Dra’Kaedan hauled Crispin close. Pyxlevir waited long enough for Brogan to finish hugging Colburn and rushed over to greet the Grand Duke.
“The only reason I sleep at night is because I know this entire building uses Gargoyle Security,” Brogan offered in greeting.
“Do you think our parents would let us live anywhere that didn’t use our system?” Colburn asked.
“I hear strangers,” Dasan yelled as he barreled into the living room with a backpack resting on his shoulders.
“Grand Warlock Dra’Kaedan D’Vaire and Grand Duke Brogan D’Vairedraconis, allow me the pleasure of introducing you to Dasan Calypte,” Pyxlevir said as Brogan held out a hand, which Dasan eagerly shook.
“Dasan, this is Dra’Kaedan and Brogan. Tradition means I have to use their titles the first time you meet everyone, but D’Vaire is casual, so you don’t have to use them. ”
“Are all dragons crazy tall, or is your mate an anomaly?” Dasan asked Dra’Kaedan as he greeted the smiling warlock.
“They’re mostly his height, but some are even freakishly taller like Aleksander,” Dra’Kaedan said.
“I’ve known you my entire life, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use his actual name before,” Pyxlevir teased.
“Not my fault he’s a better suited to a name like Tallosaur or Lankenstein.”
“It’s been years, you need some new nicknames,” Colburn remarked.
“Youth today. Never satisfied. I’m too damn old to remember new ones every couple of years.”
“Are the High Kings as hot as their picture in the Council book?” Dasan asked.
“Don’t look at me, I’m not allowed to answer questions like that without Dra’Kaedan getting pissed at me for saying someone is hot,” Brogan muttered.
Dra’Kaedan rolled his eyes as he leaned against his mate. “Rafe is hotter in person than in any picture. Cameras can’t handle his sexiness. As for High King Skyscraper, you’d have to ask Rafe. All I see when I look at him is a giant pain in the ass.”
“If you weren’t happily mated, I’d wonder if you had a secret crush on Aleksander,” Crispin responded, his grin nearly hidden by the long hair hanging in his face.
“I love you, Crispin, don’t make me set you on fire,” Dra’Kaedan warned.
“But then we could call him Crispy Crispin,” Colburn mused.
“And everyone thinks having a twin is so cool,” Crispin said. “Meanwhile, mine has the worst jokes on record.”
“Gram!” Dasan yelled. “Hurry up, man. I have hot, tall dragons to meet.”
“I feel like you’re implying that I’m not a hot, tall dragon,” Brogan said.
“I’m the only one who thinks you’re hot,” Dra’Kaedan retorted with a sassy smirk. “Get over it.”
To Pyxlevir’s relief, he heard footsteps in the hall.
The last thing he wanted to do was stand around while Dra’Kaedan and Brogan had one of their infamous spats.
Both men were hot-tempered, and as a teenager, Pyxlevir had finally caught on that their rows were more foreplay than anything else.
Given that Pyxlevir was turned on by a man who didn’t want him, he currently had an unhealthy relationship with sexuality and needed no reminders that his lone chance for satisfaction was his own hands.
Gramlithyn stepped into the living room and gave their visitors an awkward wave.
“Hey, Dra’Kaedan. Brogan. How are you?” Gramlithyn offered.
Dra’Kaedan glanced up at Brogan. “Is he kidding right now?”
“Looks serious to me,” Brogan replied with a shrug.
“What the fuck, Gramlithyn?” Dra’Kaedan asked as he charged close to the hybrid. “Do you have any clue how many hugs you owe me? Greet me properly.”
Bending swiftly, Gramlithyn embraced the blond sorcerer. “Sorry, wasn’t sure if…well, my social skills are rusty, I guess.”
“We’ve known you since you were six,” Brogan reminded the hybrid as he took a turn greeting Gramlithyn with a hug. “You don’t have to worry about being awkward with us.”
“Exactly, you have a family full of freaks,” Dra’Kaedan added. “We’ve cornered the market on being awkward.”
“And we like that about ourselves,” Colburn enthused.
“Damn right we do,” Dra’Kaedan said. “Now, are we ready to go? Gramlithyn, are you prepared to be hugged by dozens of enthusiastic people who’ve missed you?”
Gramlithyn nodded, and Pyxlevir swore there was moisture in his eyes, but he wasn’t given the chance to confirm his hunch.
Dra’Kaedan herded everyone close, and Pyxlevir had to lower his lashes to avoid dizziness as the Grand Warlock cast a group teleportation spell.
The ground beneath Pyxlevir’s feet vanished, but a moment later solid earth rested beneath his shoes again.
Ahead of him were the double entrance doors to D’Vaire.
Brogan swung one open and waved them inside.
Excited voices reached Pyxlevir’s ears, but as he turned the corner into the double-story great room, he immediately spotted his parents and raced for them.
Since deciding between Kalthekor and Aristos didn’t suit Pyxlevir, he wrapped an arm around each of his parents and clung.
“We missed you,” Kalthekor said, kissing Pyxlevir’s temple.
It didn’t matter that they worked in the same building and often crossed paths as they went about their days; Pyxlevir had never envisioned himself living anywhere but with those closest to him.
But things were different now, and Pyxlevir couldn’t make every decision about his future.
“I missed you too,” Pyxlevir responded. If Fate was wrong, he’d slink back to the Centaurus mansion with a broken heart.
But if Gramlithyn and Pyxlevir found a way to coexist, they would have to agree where to live as a couple.
How did Gramlithyn envision his future? Would Pyxlevir be expected to pick up stakes and wander around the continent as Gramlithyn had for the past six years?
“Are you okay?” Aristos asked, pulling away and cupping Pyxlevir’s cheek.
“Yes, I’m okay,” Pyxlevir said, though he wasn’t sure of the accuracy of that statement from minute to minute. “I’m relieved to be here, actually. A D’Vaire weekend is exactly what I need right now.”
“Semira was upset earlier when we spoke because Gramlithyn wasn’t coming,” Kalthekor remarked. “How did you convince him to change his mind?”
“It wasn’t me. Apparently, Gramlithyn hadn’t mentioned anything about this weekend to Dasan, and his best friend wanted to come once he learned about it.”
“How are things going at the apartment? Are the five of you getting along?” Aristos asked.
“Dad, you literally ask me that daily. In fact, you already asked me that earlier today at lunch. Yes, we’re getting along fine.”
“Excuse me for being concerned about how my only child is faring,” Aristos argued.
“Some advice for you both,” Pyxlevir stated, meeting the blue eyes of Kalthekor and Aristos’s dark brown gaze intentionally before speaking again. “Have more children.”
“Explain to our son how babies are made again,” Kalthekor told Aristos.
Pyxlevir groaned. “Adopt.”
“Go put your stuff away and greet your family,” Kalthekor suggested. “You can hound us about our life choices later.”
With a chuckle, Pyxlevir turned away from his parents to revel in the family and love that made every D’Vaire weekend special.