Chapter 10
As soon as Gramlithyn and Dasan left the room, Pyxlevir blew out a breath and watched his hands tremble where they rested on his silk trousers.
“What the actual fuck,” Colburn exclaimed.
Pyxlevir glanced up to find the gargoyle-cougar hybrid glaring. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kept it a secret.”
“It was your secret to keep,” Crispin said. The quieter of the twins stood and shook his dark hair out of his face. “But I wish you’d told someone so you didn’t have to spend the last six years dealing with your feelings by yourself.”
“Exactly,” Colburn added. “Man, I was pissed at Gramlithyn before, but now…I wish I could kick his ass. He was running away from his matebond. Everything makes perfect fucking sense. But why is he back now?”
“I don’t know, and I’m still sorry I didn’t confide in you guys,” Pyxlevir said, raising his chin to lock his gaze on the ceiling as if gravity could somehow aid him in keeping his tears at bay.
“After six years, I’m supposed to believe that he’s willing to be open-hearted enough to consider every option, but I don’t know him anymore. Not like his new fucking bestie does.”
“If you don’t think he’s interested in doing anything but getting separation papers, why did you agree to this?” Crispin asked.
“Yeah, if you’ve changed your mind, tell me. I’ll call Gramlithyn right now and tell him we’ve thought about it and we’ve decided fuck no. We’ll do what you want, Pyx,” Colburn vowed.
“This is my last chance,” Pyxlevir whispered. “If Fate was right and we were meant to spend eternity together, I won’t get another opportunity to prove Gramlithyn wrong. I’m not ready to forgive him yet, but I have to find a way if I want a future with him.”
“You deserve some fucking answers,” Colburn insisted.
Pyxlevir dropped his chin, bent his head forward and didn’t bother to stop his tears from dropping onto his silk pants. “Yeah, I need them.”
Scooting close to Pyxlevir, Crispin wrapped an arm around and hugged him close. The comfort was welcome, and Pyxlevir leaned heavily into the hybrid.
“Well, now that we know, we can help you,” Crispin promised. “You tell us what to do and we’ll be there for you, okay?”
“Yeah, no more going at this alone,” Colburn added, dropping onto the bed on Pyxlevir’s other side.
Like his twin, he huddled close to Pyxlevir.
It was like sitting between two giant gargoyle-cougar bookends, which nearly forced a smile from Pyxlevir, but he was too twisted into knots to give in to the expression.
“I’m glad you guys agreed; I owe you so many favors,” Pyxlevir managed.
“Shut up, that’s not how friendship works,” Colburn countered.
“I wonder how long Gramlithyn has known this Dasan person,” Crispin said.
“Not sure,” Pyxlevir responded. “I met him the other day when Gramlithyn told me about this plan, and Dasan introduced himself as Gram’s best friend.”
“So much information overload in my head right now, I can’t decide if I want to bitch about him shortening his name or how different he looks now,” Colburn commented. “I wonder what Semira and Laconifel thought after they saw him.”
“He doesn’t look bad, he just went down the Teverild route and tossed elven traditions out the window,” Crispin remarked.
Skeleton Lord-mate Teverild Daray was part of the extended D’Vaire family.
He had been born an elf, but he had tattoos and eschewed elven hair décor and clothing.
Unlike Gramlithyn, Teverild had been born into a horrid tribe, and he’d been mistreated by many elves in his lifetime.
His choice to distance himself from what he’d been taught was to ensure everyone knew he wasn’t aligned with terrible close-minded people, which Pyxlevir pointed out to his friends.
“Gramlithyn had a fantastic childhood,” Crispin stated. “But he’s a hybrid. Maybe he wanted to embrace shifter traditions to honor his zebra.”
“Could be,” Pyxlevir replied, grateful that the shift in conversation had abated his weeping. There would likely be many more tears to follow, but he was grateful to have shoulders to lean on now. “Elf is a hybrid, and he wears both traditional elven attire and contemporary choices like shifters.”
Emperor Ellery Draconis, or Elf as he was known to his entire community of D’Vaire family and friends, was the co-ruler of the Council and a hybrid of elf and dragon. He prided himself on honoring every part of himself and elegantly straddled the line between both races.
“I have so many questions,” Colburn muttered. “Let’s focus on one thing at a time. We’re gonna let Gramlithyn figure out the apartment thing and get packing, I guess.”
“I fucking hate packing,” Crispin groused.
“Same,” Pyxlevir replied. “And I haven’t moved since I was six.”
“Any clue how we’re going to handle our families?” Crispin asked. “At both our houses, people are going to freak the fuck out when we announce that we’re moving out.”
“The question we should ask ourselves right now is how to do we explain this,” Colburn countered.
“We’re moving in together to help Pyxlevir and Gramlithyn figure out their relationship, but the matebond is a secret.
So, how do we tell our families that we suddenly decided we need a change of fucking scenery? ”
“Well, our best friend has returned after six years,” Pyxlevir said. “Maybe we keep it simple. We want to reconnect with Gramlithyn, and we’re giving it a year to see how it works?”
“What happens if you and Gramlithyn decide Fate was right?” Colburn asked. “Are you moving out permanently?”
The thought of leaving his parents and uncles was harrowing, but Pyxlevir couldn’t be selfish.
If Fate had paired him with Gramlithyn and they could fix everything that was currently broken, they would have to decide together how to navigate the future.
Gramlithyn had parents too and would possibly want to move back in with them.
“I don’t want to,” Pyxlevir whispered.
“Then we add convincing Gramlithyn to move in with the centaurs as part of our job,” Crispin decided.
“One step at a time, remember,” Colburn insisted.
“We’re going to overwhelm ourselves with too much forward thinking.
Right now, we have to convince the wonderful, loving, and overprotective people in our lives that we’re moving out for a year to rebuild our lost friendship with Gramlithyn.
There will be bitching. We’ll have too many boxes to fill.
It’s going to suck. But we’ll be there for each other.
Pyx, this shit is going to be hardest on you, but we know the truth now.
No more bottling things up. Tell us how you’re feeling, okay? ”
Pyxlevir smiled. “Okay, deal. At the moment, I’m fucking sad that my mate doesn’t want to be with me.
I’m pissed that he left. I hate that he has a new best friend, but I’m also glad he’s not alone if that makes sense.
And the last thing I want to do is tell my parents that I’m moving out.
However, this is it. The last chance to figure out if Fate was right. ”
“Did you find out on your eighteenth birthday?” Colburn asked. “When did Gramlithyn discover it?”
“I don’t know. I guess on his eighteenth birthday?
Or does it work differently because he’s a hybrid, and his zebra discovered it earlier?
We haven’t talked about it. In fact, we’ve had very few conversations since I learned the truth.
I was in shock on my birthday, so I didn’t say much.
He’d made it clear he didn’t want a mate countless times.
I guess I assumed he needed to freak out.
The next thing I knew, he was announcing that he’s taking a longer trip, and he showed up six years later. ”
“How does running away solve anything?” Colburn growled.
“We’re not getting mad,” Crispin insisted. “I’m sorry it worked out like that, Pyx. You deserve better from your mate.”
“Damn right you do,” Colburn added.
“Yes, I do, and no matter if my mate is Gramlithyn or, Fate forbid, his replacement, I’m not taking any more shit from my other half,” Pyxlevir vowed. “So, if Gramlithyn wants any chance of a future with me, he has explaining to do and some promises he needs to make for the future.”
∞∞∞
Two weeks later, Pyxlevir was in his bedroom and trying not to wince at the way his father, Aristos, was grumbling.
Pyxlevir hadn’t expected Gramlithyn to move so swiftly, but within days of presenting his idea of moving in together to the gargoyle-cougar twins, he had a short list of properties for them to consider.
With Dasan’s help, Gramlithyn had toured options and had smartly narrowed it to three choices in buildings with full-service kitchens.
Each place was already decorated, so they’d have to pack clothes and personal belongings but not furnishings.
Which made things only slightly less intimidating when announcing to his family that he was leaving, Pyxlevir noted.
As he’d suspected, the centaurs weren’t happy.
Neither was Pyxlevir. In his na?ve daydreams of a happily-ever-after with Gramlithyn, he’d somehow always imagined them sharing a roof with the centaurs.
Pyxlevir still considered it a future option, but as his friends kept reminding him, not every issue needed to be sorted now.
Nothing had changed in Pyxlevir’s relationship with Gramlithyn in the past few weeks.
There was a group chat to discuss living arrangements, and it was more businesslike than any meeting Pyxlevir had attended as part of his duties at Elven D’Vaire.
Was Gramlithyn truly willing to let his guard down to consider their matebond, or was this entire thing a means to an end?
“Do you want Centy in a box, or are you leaving your stuffed animals behind?” Aristos asked, holding the stuffed centaur he’d given Pyxlevir on the day they met protectively against his broad chest.