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 incommon. 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.
