Page 38 of D’Vaire or Nothing (D’Vaire #44)

D esperate to allow Ashby to enjoy his weekend with his family and still unsure how to handle having a mate, Seltivare hadn’t spoken much with the hybrid in the past few days.

That did little to settle Seltivare’s nerves as he prepared to bind his eternal life to Ashby’s.

Much to the horror of his mother, Seltivare had refused to invite Ashby to take part in the tradition of having a quiet moment of reflection in a memorial garden before their matebond ceremony.

Seltivare hadn’t lost anyone he’d met, and the public garden owned by Chieftain Tristis was ugly.

So, as the afternoon waned, Seltivare had dressed in his finest tunic and pants.

Ashby had arrived to teleport Seltivare and his family to his home in Arizona.

The blond druid-jaguar was more handsome than Seltivare recalled, and he’d loved the rush of desire flowing into him as Ashby graced him with a smile.

Mavizare had grabbed their belongings, and they’d set off to the Draconis High Court of D’Vaire to face their futures.

Their parents were spending the night in a guest room, which was nice.

That morning, they’d been informed by Chieftain Tristis that the sale of their business was approved.

Fate had set everyone on a fresh path—a thrilling but scary prospect.

Seltivare’s suitcase had been yanked from his hand, and Ashby had whisked him through a crowd of people.

Names and faces had bombarded Seltivare as he was introduced to everyone Ashby loved.

It was important to make a good impression, especially since Ashby had already endured the childish antics of Seltivare and Mavizare the night they met—so he’d diligently paid attention and greeted everyone with smiles.

It hadn’t stopped his terror as he was faced with title after title.

There was even another Tristis elf among the enormous extended circle of family and friends, and the man was a drummer in a rock band.

With his head spinning, Seltivare was introduced to the new mate of Brynewielm Duke Heathcliff D’Vairefenix, Brinley Brimstone, and the introductions were finally complete.

An orange dragon named Larissa handed him a cloak made of dragonskin embroidered with flowers. The garment was breathtaking, and Ashby carefully aided him as Seltivare put it on. Then Ashby pulled on a matching one. It was at that moment that Seltivare’s brain ground into gear.

“Everyone is dressed in elven clothing,” Seltivare murmured.

“We wanted to honor your heritage; I hope that’s okay,” Ashby said.

Overwhelmed by his kindness, Seltivare smiled. “It was a thoughtful gesture, and if my parents weren’t already excited about adding you to our family, this would’ve done the trick.”

“I like your parents. And Mavi.”

“Wait until you’re stuck with me and Mavi forever,” Seltivare grumbled.

Ashby chuckled. “Are you ready to go outside and bind your life to mine for eternity?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Seltivare stared into Ashby’s brown eyes with their hint of green and nodded. Although the future was scary, Fate had brought Seltivare what he wanted. “Yes. Are you?”

“I am.”

The hybrid pulled the backdoor open, and Seltivare gasped.

Past the deck and the swarms of people finding their seats was a garden that stretched out forever.

The sunlight was fading, making it impossible for Seltivare to make out specific plants, which was a shame.

He wanted to explore. To ask questions of its gardeners.

“Do you see the tree standing alone past the enormous greenhouse?” Ashby asked softly.

“Yes.”

“That’s my tree. It’s ours now. Below it is my garden. There is plenty of space out here for you to share it with me or start one of your own.”

Seltivare’s heart swelled with affection for the man he hardly knew because he’d peeked into his heart and found his fondest wish.

If Seltivare could do anything with his life, it would be to focus on plants alone.

But he had a job too, so it’d be necessary to squeeze in his plant growing around his hours at the dragon resort.

“I would love to share a garden with you if you are willing,” Seltivare said. “But please keep in mind, I’m an elf who has only ever tended a small desert garden by myself. Everything I’ve learned is from books or videos online.”

“I’ve learned that the most important component of any garden is love.

As long as we care for everything we grow, we can’t go wrong.

We can take a walk through the plants later if you’d like.

The sorcerers can light it up a bit so we can admire every wonderful thing Dravyn and Killian have grown out here. ”

“I’d want to start with your garden first, but yes. I want to see it all.”

“Should we get this ceremony over first?”

Seltivare smiled. “Yes.”

Ashby held out his hand, and the sweet, spicy scent of azaleas warmed him as he slipped his palm into the hybrid’s. It was the first time they’d touched, and Seltivare swore little tingles zinged up his arm. But perhaps he was being fanciful.

They made a short walk up to where High Kings Aleksander and Rafe were awaiting them in front of an enormous fountain decorated with black-and-blue flowers.

“Let us know when you’re ready,” Aleksander said.

Seltivare glanced at Ashby, and they grinned at each other.

“We’re ready,” Ashby replied.

Aleksander turned to his mate, and the soft magical light provided by blue-black spheres danced off his fancy crown. “Great, Rafe?”

The other High King scowled at Aleksander but made no comment to his other half. Instead, Rafe addressed the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen of our beloved family, thank you for joining us tonight as we celebrate the binding of two incredible people, Bard Ashby D’Vaire and Bard-mate Seltivare Tristis-D’Vaire.

Like so many of us out here in this magnificent garden, Ashby didn’t find his family until he arrived on this land.

Although his childhood and teenage years were plagued by neglect and unreasonable demands by leaders who should’ve known better, Ashby’s determination never waned.

He immediately threw himself into completing school, working diligently for Dérive as an executive, and nurturing plants that still flourish decades later.

To us, he offered his kindness, compassion, and his love. ”

“Nothing brings Rafe and I greater pleasure than the honor of helping D’Vaires tie their souls together,” Aleksander said.

“But since I’ve just met Selti, I needed to learn a few things from him.

Tonight, he joins our family. So does his twin, Mavizare.

Mavi informed me that his twin is shy, wonderful, and hard-working, and he couldn’t imagine a better brother.

From his parents, I learned Selti is also a wonderful gardener, a devoted member of their family, and that their fondest wish is for their son to find love in his matebond.

Selti was raised to honor every elven custom and holds Fate in high regard.

So does Ashy. Which makes me believe firmly that Selti’s parents will get what they want—an unmatched partnership between Ashby and Selti. ”

“That was so nice,” Seltivare murmured.

Ashby winked at him. “I agree.”

In a long cloak of forest green dragonskin, Killian the Dwyer stalked to where Seltivare and Ashby stood. With a flourish, Killian opened a dark green ring box covered in dragonskin.

“On behalf of the Circle of Druids, please accept this ring as a token of our esteem for you and your mate,” Killian said. “Wear it with pride and know that our people are honored to have you represent us.”

Overwhelmed, Seltivare stood there helplessly.

“Allow me,” Ashby remarked. He dropped his hold on Seltivare’s hand, plucked the gilded ring from the box, and slipped it on Seltivare’s finger. “Welcome to the Circle of Druids.”

“I don’t suppose either of you could offer me a little gardening magic,” Seltivare whispered.

Killian flashed him a grin, and Seltivare swore the golden flecks in his eyes glowed a little brighter. “You don’t need magic, Selti. Follow my dragon’s example and you’ll do fine.”

“Thank you for the ring,” Seltivare managed. “I can’t wait to explore your garden.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll leave plenty of room for yours,” Killian replied with a wink and strode away.

“I like him,” Seltivare said.

“Me too, but it’s weird that he rarely wears shoes,” Aleksander commented.

“No, it’s not. Shoes are terrible,” Seltivare grumbled, then realized he’d just refuted a High King. “Oops.”

“Oops?” Ashby asked.

“Sorry, this is new to me, but I didn’t mean to be rude and contradict His Highness.”

“First, we don’t use titles at home, and second, speak your mind, Selti. We encourage that here. Unless it’s Dra’Kaedan.”

“I can hear you, Lankenstein,” the Grand Warlock groused.

Rafe narrowed his eyes slightly as he spoke again.

“Elves were once fairies and bemollos on a Fae realm now lost to the world. However, Fae tradition lives on thanks to its remaining population and its rulers, Noble Protector Drekkoril and Valiant Defender Daravius. In their language, they don’t use the word mate.

Their other half is a v’airsell nioll . That translates directly to eternal soul in Fae’is, a gorgeous way to honor the person hand-selected for you by Fate or Bétea .

This evening, to honor Ashby and Selti’s sacred bond, Daravius and Drekkoril will present them with a gift crafted with their sorcery. ”

Seltivare’s eyes widened as the two Fae rulers approached them with a tall statue of him and Ashby standing in a garden. The elf was ecstatic to immediately pick out the azaleas and sweet peas among the flowers.

“On behalf of the Fae, we offer you joy and happiness,” Daravius remarked as his black eyes with their swirls of silver landed on Seltivare’s face.