Chapter 3
The fake smile on Gramlithyn’s face made his cheeks hurt.
Time was moving incredibly slowly as people filled the house he had visited regularly since he was six.
A part of him wondered how long it would be until he stood beneath the roof of Pyxlevir’s home again.
Gramlithyn swallowed thickly and took two steps backward as he tried his best to fade into the woodwork.
It wasn’t easy to disappear in a room full of people who knew him best. His mother was eyeing him with suspicion in her dark eyes, and if they weren’t at a party, she’d be in full interrogation mode.
Chieftess-mate Semira Verdanyth-Hippotigris was a warrior and the best mom anyone could ask for.
But if she had a weakness, it was her relentless need to ensure her son never suffered.
Which would be wonderful if Gramlithyn wanted to share everything with her so she could make his hurts go away.
But it wasn’t always that easy, and there was nothing his mother could do to fix his current situation.
Avoiding her gaze, Gramlithyn swung his head, and unfortunately, a vision filled his mind.
Pyxlevir was laughing at something, and his delicate throat was exposed.
A rumble in Gramlithyn’s soul made his fists clench.
His zebra adored Pyxlevir and wanted to sink his fangs into Pyxlevir’s soft skin to seal their matebond.
But it took only the remembrance of an hour ago to dull the zebra’s joy.
Their matebond was no longer a secret, and Gramlithyn would never forget the tears sliding down Pyxlevir’s cheeks as the truth hit him.
They were not of joy. Gramlithyn had searched his best friend’s eyes intently.
In the pretty blue depths were shock and despair.
It was a reaction Gramlithyn had unfortunately anticipated.
But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
In a perfect world, Pyxlevir would have rushed into Gramlithyn’s arms, and they would’ve announced the incredible news to their family to add to the joy of Pyxlevir’s birthday party.
Instead, Gramlithyn was counting the minutes until he could get the hell out without his mother taking him to task for being rude.
Although Gramlithyn told himself he’d been prepared for rejection, he’d been wrong.
His heart ached. Memories of his short life danced through his mind, and Pyxlevir was there in every sacred remembrance. Their friendship was the cornerstone of everything.
It has to end.
Gramlithyn blew out a deep breath as that thought flitted into his brain. His zebra brayed—it wasn’t a noise of defiance but of understanding. The beast sharing his soul was no happier with Pyxlevir’s rejection than his elven half. Gramlithyn could not go through another day pretending he was fine.
Fate was a dominant force in his life. His parents had taught him to respect the goddess, and elvish traditions were expected of him.
Which meant he and Pyxlevir would have to combine blood and bite in the next seventy-two hours.
That could not happen. Gramlithyn refused to spend eternity staring into Pyxlevir’s gorgeous face, knowing he was the last thing his best friend wanted.
While Gramlithyn couldn’t keep Pyxlevir from announcing anything, he’d have to do it without Gramlithyn.
He wanted no part of that discussion. If Gramlithyn’s parents discovered the truth about Fate’s choice, they’d expect him to do his duty.
His mother would insist he do nothing to put distance between himself and his beast. But his zebra was as hurt as the rest of him.
His camping trip was in a couple of days, and Gramlithyn wished he were leaving in the next five minutes. All he wanted was to escape. A path he could take that would help douse the maelstrom of agony brewing ever stronger in him as the seconds ticked by.
If being rejected by his mate wasn’t enough, Gramlithyn didn’t even have his best friend to confide in.
Pyxlevir was the person who understood him best. The one being on the planet Gramlithyn could run to with nearly every crazy thought that entered his head.
Gramlithyn’s romantic feelings for Pyxlevir were the lone thing he’d kept to himself.
And he was so happy he’d made that decision.
Now he had to face reality. One without Pyxlevir.
A slicing pain ripped through his heart at the thought, but there was no alternative.
Gramlithyn didn’t know how else to handle the situation.
The last thing he wanted was a mate who didn’t return his affections.
Especially not Pyxlevir. Gramlithyn swallowed thickly and wondered how much longer he could keep his tears at bay.
There was so much grief inside him. Sorrow and pain. He swore his heart was trembling. Or perhaps it was his soul itself that quaked. Gramlithyn wondered why he bothered to separate the two things. Every part of him was in agony, and he wanted to shift. To take the form of his zebra and run.
Gramlithyn didn’t care where he wound up. All he wanted was to bolt. So did his beast.
A new voice in his head wondered if he was onto something. He had a three-month trip planned. Then what? How could he return to the reality of his current fucked-up predicament? Nothing would be different in a few months.
The social pressure of being an elf meant his parents would be furious at him for running off when he should’ve been planning a matebond ceremony.
Gramlithyn had to assume that despite Pyxlevir’s aversion to being his other half, he would do his duty.
Once their souls were bound, there was no going back.
They were stuck for eternity in each other’s lives.
Gramlithyn shuddered at the thought. What would their relationship look like?
Would they fake a perfect life for their families and friends only to become polite strangers stuck with Fate’s choice behind closed doors?
Or would they come to a more horrifying arrangement where they played their respective roles even when they were alone?
Could Gramlithyn touch Pyxlevir intimately while knowing it wasn’t what his best friend wanted? The answer was no.
What Gramlithyn needed was a plan. One he doubted would come to him in the next three months.
A little space would be good for him. He hadn’t envisioned a future spreading his figurative wings alone, but he’d already learned with excruciating devastation that getting what he wanted wasn’t always in the cards.
That night he’d pack up his bags and take everything he’d need for a much longer journey than his planned three-month trip. And he wouldn’t tell anyone about his secret change of plans until he had no choice.
∞∞∞
As the last guests left Pyxlevir’s party, he let out a relieved breath. For hours he’d plastered a smile on his face while a flurry of feelings churned in his belly. He wasn’t sure the earth-shattering news that Gramlithyn was his mate had settled into his heart and brain yet.
The man in question had avoided Pyxlevir during the party, and he wasn’t sure when Gramlithyn had disappeared from the festivities.
A hand landed on his back, and Pyxlevir barely avoided a shriek of fear as he turned to stare into the dark concerned eyes of the father he’d gained at age six.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Aristos said.
Pyxlevir managed a grin. “Are you sure? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you planned it. Here I was, an innocent little elf standing in a room by myself, only to be quietly ambushed by a centaur.”
“Please, what does Aris know about stealth?” Pyxlevir’s uncle Inachus scoffed as he strolled into the living room.
Aristos gave Pyxlevir’s shoulder a squeeze, then crossed his arms as he glared at his brother. “I spent far more hours in battle than you, Nacho, and I can adapt to all forms of combat.”
“Ancient history,” Inachus retorted. “Your skills have atrophied through centuries of peace.”
“I hope you are not suggesting the Council go to war so Aris can relearn the art of sneaking,” Kalthekor drawled as he joined them in the living room overflowing with streamers and balloons thanks to Pyxlevir’s overzealous family.
Aristos turned to Kalthekor and kissed him, caressing the cheek Fate had painted the day they bound their souls.
An image of Pyxlevir and Gramlithyn at a matebond ceremony of their own flashed into his mind, and the thought pleased him.
Was that what he truly wanted? Was it fair to yearn for it when Gramlithyn had made it clear for years that the last thing he wanted was his other half?
“Kal, you made it sound like you agree with Nacho that I lack the ability to be sneaky,” Aristos drawled.
Kalthekor grinned as he made a noncommittal sound. “Dare I ask how this conversation started?”
“Well, it wasn’t because I’m planning on convincing the Council to start a war,” Inachus stated firmly.
“Dad scared me,” Pyxlevir informed Kalthekor. He grinned cheekily. “He claims he didn’t mean to, but I don’t trust him.”
“Nice thing for a kid to say to his dad,” Aristos complained.
“I’ll allow you two to figure out this mystery without my intervention,” Kalthekor said. “Did you enjoy your party, Pyxlevir? Is everything okay with Gramlithyn? He barely offered me a greeting, and I did not see him again for the rest of the party.”
“Did you two have an argument?” Aristos asked. “You seem distracted.”
Pyxlevir was far too close to his family for them not to notice if something was bothering him, and he wasn’t fond of lies. But how could he explain the predicament Fate had put him in? Could he tell anyone without Gramlithyn’s agreement? What were the rules now that they were a couple?
Were they a couple?
In an instant, everything in Pyxlevir’s life had changed, and he had no clue how to think or feel.
“Yeah, we had a disagreement before the party started,” Pyxlevir responded sincerely.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kalthekor replied. “No one would’ve been upset if you two had taken whatever time was needed to patch things up.”
“Go to your room and call him,” Aristos insisted. “We’ll work on getting this place cleaned up and help you drag your presents to your space later. Go on, scoot.”
Pyxlevir rushed to his parents and gave them both hugs.
Crossing the living room, he embraced Inachus too, then raced to the privacy of his suite.
Although Pyxlevir wasn’t ready to pick up the phone to discuss anything with Gramlithyn yet, he desperately needed to be alone.
For hours, he’d set aside the shocking revelation of discovering his best friend was his mate to smile through a birthday party.
But now he needed to figure out how to process Fate’s bombshell.
For years, Pyxlevir had fantasized about having his other half. He wanted the kind of love his parents had. The same level of devotion that the other couples in his large extended family shared. While in a perfect world, being matched with his best friend would be welcome, life wasn’t that easy.
And honestly, Pyxlevir wasn’t sure how to handle the tingle of lust that swam through him as he pictured Gramlithyn’s smile.
It was odd to suddenly find himself with sexuality and wondering what Gramlithyn’s body looked like beneath his elvish-style tunic and pants.
Not a bad weirdness, just far different from how Pyxlevir had felt the previous day.
How was Gramlithyn processing his emotions?
Pyxlevir locked himself in his bedroom and slipped off his shoes.
Pushing aside a couple of throw pillows, Pyxlevir climbed onto his bed and sprawled across his coverlet.
He stared up at the ceiling and sighed. Not every matebond was a perfect match.
Was Gramlithyn angry that Fate had ignored him and matched him up at eighteen?
At least the weirdness in their friendship made sense now.
Gramlithyn was probably afraid of the immediate future thanks to the rules of their culture, but it was unnecessary fear.
The elven tradition of having a matebond ceremony within three days was wonderful, but Pyxlevir wasn’t concerned about honoring it.
He wasn’t tying his eternity to anyone until he was sure it was something that would make him and his mate happy.
Pyxlevir thought back to their interaction hours ago and swallowed thickly. There hadn’t been joy on Gramlithyn’s face as Pyxlevir discovered their bond. When had Fate revealed the truth to Gramlithyn? How long had he pretended everything was fine? Had Gramlithyn wanted to come to the party at all?
Blowing out a breath, Pyxlevir closed his eyes. Everything was a mess. But there had to be a way to fix things. To find a way to deal with the new reality facing him and Gramlithyn, because the last damn thing Pyxlevir would tolerate was losing his best friend.