Chapter 31
In a set of pajamas with pastel green llamas on them, Pyxlevir rubbed lotion between his fingers as he walked into the bedroom he unofficially shared with Gramlithyn at their apartment.
They’d left D’Vaire several days earlier, and there was a new pep in Gramlithyn’s step.
Pyxlevir was overjoyed that he’d mended fences with his parents and that they were understanding about their future.
Pyxlevir intended to maintain as strong a dynamic with Semira and Laconifel as possible and had already encouraged them to join Pyxlevir and Gramlithyn for lunch or stop by the apartment whenever it suited their schedule.
Family was an integral part of Pyxlevir’s life, and he adored Gramlithyn’s parents.
As for their son, Gramlithyn was lounging on the bed in nothing but a pair of sleep pants.
Because they were sewn by Larissa, the fabric was fun; it featured blue dragons with tongues hanging out of their mouths.
Climbing onto the mattress, Pyxlevir sat next to Gramlithyn with his legs crossed. Although his instinct was to plaster himself to Gramlithyn and kiss him senseless, there was a furrow between his other half’s brows that told him the hybrid was deep in thought.
“What’s on your mind?” Pyxlevir asked.
Gramlithyn’s brown gaze locked on Pyxlevir’s face. “Will you promise to be honest with me, no matter what? That you won’t spare my feelings?”
“Absolutely,” Pyxlevir said, nodding his head to emphasize his vow.
“Since we left D’Vaire, I’ve been thinking, and things are fantastic between us.”
“Yes. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Gramlithyn replied with a lovely smile. “I…well, I tricked you into agreeing to move into this apartment so we could spend a year under the same roof. The twins and Dasan joined us so we’d have witnesses to attest that we’d tried and Fate was wrong.”
“Gramlithyn, I wasn’t interested in a separation agreement.”
“I know that now. Neither was I.” Gramlithyn sighed and propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes dropping to the bedspread. “This isn’t how I should be doing this. You deserve some grand romantic gesture.”
“Ew, for what? Like in public? That would be so embarrassing.”
Gramlithyn’s expression was stunned as he lifted his chin to stare at Pyxlevir. “You don’t like romance?”
“I don’t know the first thing about it. Not in the traditional sense. What I find romantic is hanging out with my best friend. My heart flutters in my chest when you take my hand, kiss my head, or understand exactly where I’m coming from. That’s the shit I love. You do it for me every day.”
“Fate made you perfect for me. Pyx, my zebra and I want to bite you. Will you be my mate? Fully bind your soul with mine in front of everyone we love at D’Vaire?”
Pyxlevir nodded. “Nothing would make me happier.”
Gramlithyn cupped the back of Pyxlevir’s neck and tugged him close as the hybrid stretched up so their lips met in a smiling kiss. It was the perfect romantic moment to Pyxlevir.
“I love you, Pyx.”
“I love you too. Were you afraid I’d say no?
” Pyxlevir asked as he shuffled closer to Gramlithyn and waited for his other half to settle onto the mattress again so he could drape himself on the elf-zebra’s bare chest. The earthy scent of carrots filled his senses as snuggled Gramlithyn.
A warm hand settled on his tush, and Pyxlevir’s happy sigh was smug.
“The last thing I wanted was to rush you.”
“Rush me? Gramlithyn, I’ve been waiting for you to fuck me properly for weeks.”
“You and the carrot in your pants need to settle down; we have to plan this properly.”
“Our matebond ceremony?” Pyxlevir asked, tweaking Gramlithyn’s nipple and getting a gentle pinch on the ass in retaliation. “We’re having it at D’Vaire, right? Our family will help us plan it in a matter of minutes.”
“Yeah, I’m not worried about that. Oh, except, would it piss you off if I wore a suit instead of an elven tunic and pants?”
“No, I’d love that. Maybe to honor the Verdanyth, you could have a beaded tie or vest?”
“I’ll do both, thanks. I appreciate the compromise.”
“That’s not a compromise. It’s an agreement that we’re both wearing what we want to a ceremony celebrating our unity.”
“Everyone wears a cloak, so hopefully with the vest and tie, my father won’t feel like I’m disrespecting my tribe,” Gramlithyn murmured.
“He’s proud of you and wants you to be yourself. So, what else do we have to worry about?”
“Living arrangements. Are we planning on staying here for the full year?”
“Gross, no,” Pyxlevir replied. “It’s a nice apartment, but we’re keeping the twins from their family here. I’d love for us to move out before our ceremony. We can get settled, decide what needs to be redecorated, and allow Dasan to relax in his new space.”
“One last thing.”
“Talk to me.”
Gramlithyn sucked in a deep breath. “Each elven ceremony begins with a tradition in a memorial garden. We take a moment to think of those we have left behind, and our families offer us mourning necklaces.”
“Why are you explaining our culture to me?” Pyxlevir asked, genuinely confused. “I know that. D’Vaire has a stunning garden.”
“Because the point is to have a moment of reflection. To wish your relatives, friends, and ancestors well so you walk into your matebond looking nothing but forward. Pyx, don’t you think it’s time to find out about your mother?”
“I hate the thought of making my father sad or hurting his feelings by bringing her up.”
“But you have questions.”
Pyxlevir nodded and rested his forehead on Gramlithyn’s chest. “I want to know the truth about his relationship with her and how she died. Will you be there and hold my hand?”
“Of course I will.”
Shaken by the thought of inflicting any pain on his father, Pyxlevir still found a smile.
He didn’t have to tackle this conversation alone, and his parents had each other too.
Somehow, they’d navigate the past, and Pyxlevir intended to be as respectful as possible while finally discovering why his childhood hadn’t taken the traditional route.
“I can’t wait to be your mate.”
“Because you’re having some foreign rush of romantic feelings, or the thought of having a shifter bite is making you hard?” Gramlithyn asked, rolling so Pyxlevir was pinned beneath him.
“Why can’t it be both?”
Pyxlevir slid his arms around Gramlithyn’s neck as their mouths met in a deep kiss, and every thought that related to anything but the way his other half made him feel fell to the wayside. Nothing could bother him when he was in Gramlithyn’s embrace
∞∞∞
Two weeks later, Pyxlevir stood in his childhood bedroom and fiddled with Erironarra’s dress.
At Pyxlevir’s insistence, touches of pale green were being added to the blue-and-purple décor to freshen up the suite he now shared with Gramlithyn.
He’d requested tons of zebra print, but Gramlithyn had vetoed the idea, claiming he preferred a relaxing palette.
The twins had returned to their home with their parents, and Dasan was currently across the hall in his new room with Larissa, discussing his plan to splash every surface with iridescent pink.
It would be beautiful, and Pyxlevir was eager for the result.
Dasan had enthusiastically accepted an invitation to live in the Archon’s house, pleasing everyone.
Next weekend, Pyxlevir would return to D’Vaire to bind his soul with Gramlithyn’s.
Although Gramlithyn hadn’t announced any long-term plans for his career, his enthusiasm for Elven D’Vaire hadn’t diminished.
If anything, it’d grown, and Pyxlevir hoped Gramlithyn would continue to pursue whatever fulfilled him.
Overall, things were on the right path.
But before Pyxlevir could venture into the future, he had to resolve the past. So, he left Erironarra in her spot at Leydira’s side and opened a small drawer where a thin album rested. A few pictures were the only things he had of the woman who had given him life.
The door swung open, and a handsome hybrid smiled at him. “My parents are here, are you ready?”
Pyxlevir plucked the album out and nodded. It was integral to Pyxlevir that Semira and Laconifel be included in every aspect of his life with Gramlithyn, including the chapters languishing in the past. So, he’d asked Gramlithyn to invite them over for the chat he needed to have with Kalthekor.
Tucking the album into his pocket, Pyxlevir crossed the room and captured Gramlithyn’s hand.
“Kiss,” Pyxlevir said. Gramlithyn brushed their lips together. “I’m ready now.”
“Let’s go,” Gramlithyn replied, giving Pyxlevir’s palm an affectionate squeeze.
They stepped outside to find their parents chatting with open beers and a plate of cheese and veggies.
“Ah, our happy couple,” Gramlithyn’s father enthused.
Pyxlevir had to let go of Gramlithyn to greet Semira and Laconifel with hugs, then he encouraged everyone to get comfortable.
Gramlithyn chose a wide chair between their parents, and Pyxlevir had plenty of space to share the cushion with the man he loved.
After resting his hand on Gramlithyn’s thigh, he braced himself.
“Is something bothering you, Pyx?” Aristos asked.
“Not exactly. I have some questions, and I wanted everyone here to be part of this discussion so none of us have to do this again or repeat a word of it if we don’t want to,” Pyxlevir said. He locked eyes with Kalthekor, whose gaze was concerned and confused. “Dad, we need to talk about my mother.”
Kalthekor nodded slowly and leaned into Aristos. “I’m surprised it has taken us so long to discuss her. Maybe I should have brought it up, but…well, I wasn’t sure what was best. Or perhaps that is an excuse because it was easier for me to leave it alone.”
“The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” Pyxlevir said. “It’s just that I have questions, and I don’t know who else to ask. I thought maybe Evlithar, but—”