Page 5 of Distinctly Daray (D’Vaire, #43)

S unday rolled around, and Victor frowned as he rifled through his closet. It’d been several weeks since he’d gone to his parents’ house, and he’d run out of excuses to stay away. Although Victor cared for his biological family, he was a misfit. And none of them ever let him forget it. To keep the attention off himself as much as possible, Victor picked out a plain white shirt and a pair of khakis. The soft material of the pants and the wide cut made them a little floaty around his legs, but he decided if he paired them with loafers, it’d be fine.

Victor was no longer willing to disguise himself completely, so he’d already applied his make-up. It was simpler and less colorful than he would’ve chosen on any other day, but he refused to stifle himself completely to cater to the Antonovs. With a sigh, Victor changed out of the lounge pants and off-the-shoulder sweatshirt he’d put on to share breakfast with the Darays.

He was leaving the family that embraced him for everything that made him unique to spend several hours with the relatives who’d never tried to understand him. Once Victor was redressed, he checked to ensure his short hair wasn’t a mess. Thankfully, he was sporting a messy, spiky style these days, so it looked fine.

Sailing out of his gorgeous suite, Victor shared farewell waves with a plethora of Darays, who demanded that he drive safely and wished him well. After blowing them kisses, Victor left the condo, took the elevator down, and found his car in the parking garage. He drove out and blasted dance tunes as he navigated traffic.

His voice was nothing to brag about, but Victor loved to sing along with his favorites. Long before Victor was ready, he pulled into the subdivision where his parents had lived for decades. The houses were small but well maintained. Victor had offered to aid his parents in upgrading to a larger home, but that idea had been soundly rebuffed. They didn’t want or need him to flaunt his wealth.

He lived comfortably but wasn’t rich by Council standards. That didn’t matter to the Antonovs. From the moment Victor had taken the job working for two Council leaders, they’d accused him of putting on airs. Victor’s heart thudded in his chest, and he forced himself to take a deep breath. As usual, he was dredging up every awful encounter he’d had with the Antonovs as he pulled into the driveway, which only made him panicky.

Shutting off the car, Victor slapped a smile on his face and exited the vehicle. Not every visit was terrible, and he needed to stay positive if he didn’t want to have a miserable day.

“Victor, is that you?” his eldest sister, Loria, called out the front door as he walked inside. “It’s been so long I nearly forgot what you look like.”

It was tempting to roll his eyes, but Victor refrained. Everyone in his family was blond and had green eyes. They also shared many of the same features. No one would mistake him for anything but an Antonov.

“How are you, Loria?” Victor asked as he approached.

“Fine. Not that you’ve called to see what’s going on in my life.”

Victor was guilty as charged. However, he’d attempted to keep in touch with his many brothers and sisters, but none of them had bothered to return the gesture. Most of the time, they hadn’t even answered when he had taken the initiative. He brought none of that up.

“Sorry,” Victor said. “How are the kids?”

“Annoying me for weeks asking about their Uncle Victor.”

Loria was shoved aside to reveal Victor’s youngest brother, Christian.

“Mom, Fancy Pants is here,” Christian called out with a shit-eating grin.

“Good to see you, Christian.”

“You didn’t bring any food?”

With a shake of his head, Victor squeezed his way past his siblings to enter the house. After Victor had moved out, he’d tried bringing something with him to the massive midday meal his mother loved to have on Sundays. But he’d grown weary of the complaints. He’d been accused of trying to upstage everyone else with gourmet foods from fancy Council shops. The truth was Victor had cooked them, but no one believed him, which was ridiculous. It was at their feet that he’d learned to cook.

He’d soon learned it was easier to arrive with nothing. His mother would purse her lips, and a sibling or two would comment. Then everyone would move on. That was far easier than an entire meal of everyone ignoring his dish while simultaneously chastising him for purchasing something to show off.

“Victor’s here,” his father, Ivan, shouted when he spotted him.

“Hello, Papa.”

“Go greet your mother. She’s in the kitchen.”

With a nod that would’ve done a sentinel proud, Victor ignored the family members clustered in the small living area and headed to the kitchen.

“You couldn’t bring some bacon?” his mother, Polina, asked as Victor entered the kitchen.

Victor walked over and kissed her smooth cheek. Her blonde hair was tied up in the intricate bun she preferred, and her pretty face was flushed slightly from the heat in the kitchen. She’d likely already spent hours cooking up a variety of savory pastries and preparing either borscht or schi .

“I can run to the store and get you some if you need it,” Victor said, not pointing out that she’d assured him yesterday that she didn’t want him to bring anything.

“Never mind, I will use what I have,” his mother replied. “Loria, put bacon on the list; we will pick it up at the market tomorrow.”

“Of course, Mama,” Loria remarked, hustling into the kitchen to scrawl the ingredient onto the list their parents had kept on the fridge for as long as Victor could remember. “Is that a skirt you’ve got on, Victor?”

His mother raised her head and frowned. “Why can you not be content with buying men’s clothes?”

“These are men’s clothes,” Victor answered softly. “They have a wider leg, that is all.”

“They didn’t have a normal version?” Loria asked, her brows lifted.

“I didn’t look. I liked these.”

“Victor has always gone his way,” his mother commented. “He has run afoul of Fate; that is why she has not brought him a nice girl yet. At this rate, he will never have children.”

In no mood to defend his sexuality or his lack of interest in adding to the already heavily populated Antonov family tree, Victor opted for the question that would immediately get him kicked out of the kitchen.

“Mama, can I do anything to help?” Victor asked.

“Go on and greet your family,” his mother instructed. “I have everything under control in my own kitchen.”

Grateful for the escape, Victor walked through the house and into the backyard. Although there were bound to be Antonovs there too, they’d likely be shifted, and he’d be spared conversation. He’d found that the easiest way to do his duty as his parents’ son while preventing himself from experiencing undue stress. It wasn’t an ideal family situation, but his responsibility as an Antonov was far too ingrained for him to sever ties completely, though he had to admit he’d daydreamed about it.

∞∞∞

“We’ve strengthened the potion,” Chander said, handing Phillip the only thing that allowed him to spend time out of stasis.

Phillip drank deeply and closed his eyes. The concoction the wizards had created for him worked swiftly, and within seconds, his dragon stopped roaring in his head.

“Thank you,” Phillip replied and handed the empty bottle to Chander.

“Let’s hope we’ve made it strong enough that you can spend a little time with Keegan today,” Alaric stated.

With a nod, Phillip tried not to feel guilty that in the past few days since he’d met his mate, he’d barely spent more than a few minutes with the man. His beast grew uncontrollable almost immediately, and Phillip begged for stasis to protect everyone from a dragon entering his dorm.

“He is approaching,” Phillip remarked.

It was miraculous the way Phillip’s beast could recognize Keegan before the handsome fallen knight walked into the room, but he wished his beast wasn’t so obsessed with the man. If he could keep some semblance of control, Phillip could talk to Keegan instead of fighting an unruly dragon.

Keegan never had a chance to knock. Alaric opened the door and ushered the recruit with the pretty, dark red hair inside. Keegan’s smile bloomed, and it was like being bathed in sunshine. The floral scent Phillip already loved filled his senses, and he ignored the loud growl echoing through his head. As a sentinel, Phillip had lacked sexuality until he met Keegan, and it was irritating to suddenly have to deal with erections he couldn’t get rid of since he was never alone. Hopefully, the new potion would help.

“The potion is strong enough,” Phillip stated with relief. “My dragon is too muted to force an immediate shift.”

“Wonderful,” Chander replied. “Alaric and I will step out in the hallway to give you two some privacy. Knock on the door and I’ll come in to cast your stasis spell.”

“Thank you. I appreciate everything you do daily to aid me.”

“It is our pleasure,” Alaric assured him as he allowed Chander to step out into the hall in front of him.

The door shut, and Phillip faced Keegan. “Thank you for coming to visit me.”

Tiny little lines formed around his big brown eyes as Keegan’s grin deepened. “I’m glad for every invitation.”

Without the barrage of his chaotic dragon, Phillip was unsure how to act. He was rarely allowed to focus on himself. In the short few weeks since his resurrection, everything in his life had boiled down to dealing with his beast.

“Would you care to have a seat?”

“Sure,” Keegan said.

Phillip dropped onto his bed as Keegan lowered himself into a nearby chair. The fallen knight rubbed his palms on his black uniform pants. It was a sign of nerves. Phillip could empathize. He was also filled with awkwardness and panic.

“Are you enjoying your training?” Phillip asked.

“Absolutely,” Keegan replied. His smile fell, and he cleared his throat. “Sorry you can’t train yet.”

“It is less than ideal but not your fault,” Phillip remarked.

“Yeah. I’m still sorry.”

“You need not apologize. You are not to blame.”

Keegan nodded.

Silence fell over them. Phillip wracked his brain for something to discuss. He’d learned little of the world since his resurrection. Most of his time was spent asleep or aiding sorcerers in strengthening the potions he required to find any peace. Thankfully, everyone Phillip had met thus far had aided him however they could. So, not only was Phillip not in his battle alone, but he was kept abreast of how training was going for the fallen knights.

“Sam tells me you have the highest scores in both the mental and physical categories,” Phillip offered.

“Sam?”

“VK Samson,” Phillip explained. “He insists I call him Sam. Although I am hardly worthy of the honor, he considers me family.”

“That makes sense. You are both Osdraconises.”

“Yes, but unlike other dragons, we have no court. Our last name is related to our undead dragons, not necessarily a familial connection.”

The corner of Keegan’s tempting mouth lifted. “But you told me VK Samson considers you family.”

“He is perhaps too kind to me because he understands my struggles.”

“I’m sorry you’ve been struggling so much.”

It was Phillip’s turn to offer a small grin. “Did we not already discuss that you are not at fault for my dragon’s overzealousness?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we did. Sorry.”

“Keegan. You are doing it again.”

Keegan winced. “Geez, I’m sorry.” Before Phillip could correct him, Keegan slapped a hand over his mouth and his gaze widened. “Shit, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he exclaimed through his hand.

Phillip couldn’t help it. He laughed.

Thankfully, Keegan didn’t take any offense. “You have a great laugh.”

“Thank you, I wish to compliment you too, but I do not want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Does that mean you’re feeling as awkward as I am?”

“I keep telling myself you are my mate, so I should relax, but most of my conversations thus far have centered on my beast. I do not have vast experience with how to connect with people, let alone a gift from Fate.”

“From what I’ve learned, a lot of couples feel strange at the start. It’s because they haven’t learned much about each other yet.”

“Yes, I can see the logic in that.”

Once again, the room grew quiet. Phillip didn’t know what to say. He wanted to admire the handsome planes of Keegan’s face, but it would be rude to stare at the fallen knight, and he wanted to prevent any more errant erections.

Keegan cleared his throat loudly. “Maybe if you want me to come to visit you again, I could bring a deck of cards or a game. It would give us something to do while we learn about each other.”

“You need only come to visit if it is what you wish.”

“Of course I want to hang out with you, Phillip.”

Insecurity rose from out of nowhere. “Is it because you feel you must as my mate?”

“Hey, we’re friends too. I know we aren’t close yet, but we will be. As for being your mate, I’m excited. Nervous too. I don’t know anything about being a mate or much about life in general, but I honor Fate. Hopefully, with enough time, we can figure out for ourselves if this is a good match or not.”

Phillip smiled. “I feel much the same as you. Since we met, I have read the sections about mates in the Council books they have provided me. There is a great deal about honoring one another and how our lives should be intertwined, but nothing I’ve read speaks of the awkwardness or the appropriate steps to gaining more information about each other.”

“I agree. I get that we’re supposed to want to be together. My brain is definitely on board. But what I need is a syllabus like in my classes, which goes over the important things to focus on.”

“I don’t even have any classes yet. All I have learned since my resurrection is how long I have before I must demand a stasis spell.”

“Are you getting close to needing one now?”

Phillip heard a growl of agreement from his dragon, but the potion he’d taken muted his beast enough that he shook his head. “Not yet. But soon.”

“Okay, what should we talk about until then?”

With a shrug, Phillip shuffled his feet. “I have no idea.”