Pyxlevir’s other centaur uncles, Strategos Demaratos Centaurus and Strategos Inachus Centaurus, joined them with a ring for each man to take. With a grin, Pyxlevir took a wide band from Demaratos. It was inlaid black enamel with white stripes, trimmed along both edges with a line of channel-set aquamarines. The interior was coated the same unmistakable blue-black of D’Vaire worn by every couple lucky enough to have jewelry made by the talented Madeline, and it was nearly hidden as Pyxlevir carefully slid the ring onto Gramlithyn’s finger.
“Chosen by Bétea and Fate, and accepted by my heart as true, I accept you as myv’airsell niolland mate,” Pyxlevir stated. It was imperative to him and Gramlithyn that they included theFae’is version of Fate, as it was a beloved part of their heritage once obscured by history.
Gramlithyn’s face was solemn, but his gaze swam with love as Pyxlevir held his hand up and the hybrid glided his ring into place.
“Chosen by Bétea and Fate, and accepted by my heart as true, I accept you as myv’airsell niolland mate,” Gramlithyn repeated softly.
Pyxlevir wanted to throw himself into Gramlithyn’s arms, but it would have to wait until their ceremony concluded. For now, Pyxlevir offered Gramlithyn a smile and a wink.
“In both the traditions of shifters and elves, Gramlithyn and Pyxlevir are now united. But before we celebrate with the carrot-shaped cake the Grand Warlock begged to have added to today’s festivities, Pyxlevir and Gramlithyn would like to ask Tyndarios to return with that exquisite athame so they can add mating marks,” Timotheus stated.
Although it was symbolic since no one would get to view their mating marks thanks to their long sleeves hiding them, Pyxlevir and Gramlithyn removed their cloaks and gave them to Colburn and Crispin. Semira plucked the blade from the box and cut Gramlithyn. Her task complete, she handed it to Laconifel, who made a swift but still painful slice across Pyxlevir’s palm.
“Valzadari to Verdanyth-Hippotigris,” Gramlithyn said as he and Pyxlevir pressed their hands together. “Our blood has spilled, and our spirits have bonded. We ask Fate to grant us a mark from left shoulder to elbow so the world may bear witness we belong only to each other.”
A horrible sensation made Pyxlevir grimace as Fate burned a zebra onto his skin. He was eager to see it and to find out exactly what Fate had left on Gramlithyn’s arm, but it would have to wait for privacy.
For now, Pyxlevir grabbed Gramlithyn’s hand and grinned. “Thanks, Uncle Timotheus, and everyone else we roped into helping us with our ceremony today. I wish we could have included every person out in this backyard because you each play pivotal roles in our lives. We are grateful for your guidance and love. And special thanks to our parents for not insisting we put tradition above our feelings. Gramlithyn and I love all of you.”
Gramlithyn tugged Pyxlevir into his embrace, and their lips met in a soft kiss that Pyxlevir immediately deepened. As far as Pyxlevir was concerned, nothing beat his mating ceremony.
Chapter 33
Several hours after the sun set, Gramlithyn was in the bedroom he now shared with Pyxlevir at D’Vaire. As for Gramlithyn’s old room, it belonged to Dasan, and Larissa had already redecorated it in the same iridescent pink he’d chosen for his suite in Timotheus’s mansion. It amused Gramlithyn how quickly their family worked.
There was already a glass case with their mating wreaths artfully arranged inside, and in a prominent spot on a tall dresser stood the exquisite statue Gramlithyn and Pyxlevir had received from the Fae rulers. He didn’t care how beautiful it looked at D’Vaire, he was taking it home to their suite in Vegas.
If Gramlithyn had to guess, he’d find his mating athame added to the collection of D’Vaire ones found in the living room once he ventured that way in the morning. Next to the dagger would be an exact enlarged set of rings identical to the one shining on Gramlithyn’s left hand.
For years, Gramlithyn had worried that Pyxlevir would never want him.
What a fool he’d been.
The bathroom door opened, and a beautiful elf with gorgeous new scrollwork down his left cheek burst into the room. He’d changed into pajamas with grinning zebras on thepants. Gramlithyn scooped him into his arms and gave him a smacking kiss.
“When we changed out of our fancy clothes earlier, you put on a long-sleeved shirt,” Pyxlevir complained.
“I rolled up the sleeves.”
“So what? I can’t see your mating mark.”
“It’s you on my arm.”
Pyxlevir rolled his eyes. “I guessed that. Tell me more.”
“You’re wearing the outfit you had on earlier when we bound our souls,” Gramlithyn confided. “You’ll love it.”
“Yeah, I’m still waiting to get a look at it.”
“Before I remove any clothes, let’s talk about our plans.”
Pyxlevir waggled his brows. “Want to discuss positions? Maybe set up some romantic lighting?”
“Is that what you want?”
“Gramlithyn, I’m concerned with two things. I want your pretty green carrot to end my virginal status completely and a sexy zebra bite.”
“Fucking you is a big step; I want to make sure you’re ready.”