Pyxlevir squeaked as he was unceremoniously tossed onto his back and a deliciously naked zebra-elf pinned him to the mattress. Spreading his thighs so Gramlithyn could nestle comfortably between them, Pyxlevir wound his arms around the hybrid’s neck.
“It’s a deal,” Gramlithyn murmured, nuzzling Pyxlevir’s neck. “Want to stay up too late again tonight?”
Pyxlevir’s lips curved, and he lifted his legs to cross his ankles, trapping Gramlithyn against him. “Absolutely.”
∞∞∞
Gramlithyn was sweating. True to his word, Pyxlevir had gathered their chosen group at his family’s house on Thursday night. His zebra was unsettled, and they both wanted the comfort of their mate, but they couldn’t touch him thanks to the secret they were poised to reveal.
“Are you okay?” Pyxlevir whispered as he sidled close to Gramlithyn.
“Shitting myself, thanks for asking.”
Pyxlevir grinned up at him. “It’ll be fine. Trust me. Let’s get it over with.”
Thanks to the number of elves in attendance, Pyxlevir’s Uncle Tyndarios had opted for a menu of cheeses, vegetables, and sandwiches for the centaurs. Since there was nothing hot on the stove, they didn’t have to wait for everyone to start their supper to broach the topic Gramlithyn and Pyxlevir had assembled them to discuss. Everyone was chatting and relaxing with drinks in the living room, which offered Gramlithyn no excuse to delay the inevitable, so he nodded at Pyxlevir.
The elf Gramlithyn adored clapped his hands. “Sorry to interrupt, but Gramlithyn and I need to talk to you. Is it okay if we do that before dinner?”
Gramlithyn blew out a shaky breath as everyone assured Pyxlevir it was fine, and the crowd stared at them both. As the person who’d chosen to defy Fate, Gramlithyn wanted to be theone to take the initiative. If their announcement caused anger, then he wanted to be in the line of fire instead of his other half.
Pyxlevir glanced at him, and Gramlithyn offered him a lopsided smile. “Thanks for agreeing to let us come over tonight. We know it was short notice, but we’ve already waited too long to have this conversation with everybody.”
“We’re family, of course we’re happy to be here,” Gramlithyn’s mother assured them.
“The truth is…shit. The truth is, I’ve had years to figure out how to say this, but…but I’m not sure,” Gramlithyn sputtered. Pyxlevir took a step closer to him and, without a care who was watching, slipped his hand into Gramlithyn’s. His zebra snorted with pleasure. Closing his eyes, Gramlithyn took a moment to center himself. No matter what awaited them in the next few minutes, Pyxlevir would be at his side. Nothing could tear them apart. That gave him the strength to dredge up whatever courage was in his soul, and he squared his shoulders.
“Whatever you need to tell us, we’re here for you,” Gramlithyn’s father stated firmly.
“I have been living a lie,” Gramlithyn said. “Six years ago, I left everything behind. There was only one person who understood the full story. That I hadn’t given up on a job or school. I did, but those weren’t important. They could wait. What I chose to do was defy fifteen thousand years of tradition. To disregard the most important aspect of—”
“Gramlithyn,” Pyxlevir interrupted. “Be kind to yourself. Just tell them.”
Gramlithyn’s nod was frantic, and he was grateful that Pyxlevir was holding on to his hand, given how damp it’d become in the past few minutes.
“Pyxlevir is my mate,” Gramlithyn rushed out.
The silence in the room was deafening. Too terrified to gauge the reaction of their families, Gramlithyn lifted his chinand concentrated on the ceiling. He stared at it as if the off-white paint held the secret to the universe. Pyxlevir tugged his palm free, and Gramlithyn turned to watch his other half get embraced enthusiastically by Evlithar.
Behind him stood Cadlyr, and the Cwylld Chieftain smiled at Gramlithyn.
“Congratulations,” Cadlyr said. “The past six years must have been difficult; I hope it is a relief to say those words aloud.”
His limbs were barely cooperating, but Gramlithyn flung them around Cadlyr. The blond elf grunted at Gramlithyn’s gusto.
“So much makes sense now,” Evlithar chirped as he rushed over to embrace Gramlithyn the second he released Cadlyr.
“Yes, it does,” Gramlithyn’s father said, rising from his chair. His mother remained seated and was sobbing. “No matter how many discussions we had about the past six years, we couldn’t make sense of things. There was a puzzle piece missing. It never occurred to me that you were mates. I’m not sure why. Perhaps because you were close friends. I would’ve assumed being paired by Fate would be welcome.”
Tired of being brave, Gramlithyn reached out, and Pyxlevir stepped into his embrace. Gramlithyn clung to his other half while his zebra continued to reel with fear.
“It should’ve been simple, but I overcomplicated it,” Gramlithyn said, swallowing thickly.
“We both made mistakes,” Pyxlevir stated firmly.
Kalthekor stood and smiled. “Nothing that happened between you is any of our business. Congratulations. I apologize it took me a moment to find my tongue. The only excuse I can give is that, no matter how old your child is, it’s still surprising when they reach adult milestones. In my heart is a tiny boy whoneeds my help to put his dishes away because he isn’t tall enough to get them into the upper cabinets.”
Behind Kalthekor, Aristos rose and chuckled. “You and Pyx are both grown and can’t reach anything. Congrats to you both. I’m guessing from your hug that this is something you’re ready to celebrate.”
