Page 7 of D’Vaire or Nothing (D’Vaire #44)

W ith a smile, Lich Reaper Grymington D’Vaire-Daray lifted his arm to wave at the Darays heading for the casino.

“Who’s a good doggie?” Devlin Nero asked in a sing-song voice as he petted the dog Chander had resurrected for Grymington.

The Siberian Husky wagged her tail violently as she soaked in the cuddles.

Hekate wasn’t a neglected dog. In fact, she was often smothered with kisses, cuddles, and pets—and that was just the affection she got from Grymington.

But Hekate never tired of attention. Grymington didn’t blame her. Especially when it was Grymington’s mate doling out the love. Devlin was damn good with his hands, and Grymington thanked Fate daily that he was lucky enough to be paired with the enchanter-human hybrid.

“What’s that smile for, Grym?” Devlin asked, a grin on his face as he stood.

The electric blue streaks in his hair were a perfect match for his eyes, but it was the glint off the skull of his long necklace that Grymington never failed to notice.

It was the first gift Grymington had given his other half, and Devlin had worn it every day since that solstice many years ago.

It wasn’t his only piece of jewelry, but there were three shiny objects Devlin wore with pride.

Devlin loved the skull necklace, their matching mating bands, and the necklaces they’d sealed with their blood on the day their souls were fully bound.

At the start of their relationship, Grymington hadn’t been sure the momentous day of their matebond ceremony would ever arrive.

But he’d been wrong, and he thanked Fate for it.

“I was thinking about how much I enjoy your hands on me,” Grymington remarked softly.

Devlin chuckled and reached out to comb his fingers through Grymington’s messy blond curls.

“My hands are fond of the incredible body you have under your clothes. Especially those sexy little scythes in your nipples. And you know I love it when you wear all black. My fallen angel,” Devlin drawled in a low, sexy voice that had a shiver running down Grymington’s spine.

Not interested in finding himself with an erection in the middle of the new resort they were there to celebrate, he stepped close to Devlin and wrapped his arms around him. Grymington laid his head against Devlin’s chest.

“I love you,” Grymington whispered.

Devlin’s embrace was wonderfully tight. To his delight, Devlin cupped his head and dropped a kiss on his tangled hair. “I love you too.”

“Dinner was delicious,” Grymington said into Devlin’s soft shirt. “I don’t want to insult Victor, but it was as good as his meals.”

Victor Antonov-Daray was the housekeeper and chef for the Daray household. The Russian Blue shifter had been part of Grymington’s life since the beginning, and one of the greatest days the Daray family had ever celebrated was the recent matebond ceremony uniting Victor with his two mates.

“I’m sure Victor wouldn’t mind the comparison. Do you want to go follow that group of Darays we saw heading for the casino or take your girl for a walk?”

Still holding on to Devlin, Grymington glanced at his dog.

She’d planted her butt on the shiny textured floor, but her tail continued to wag enthusiastically.

It was tempting to find out what mischief the Darays were stirring up in the casino, but the night was young, so it wasn’t likely that the group would head upstairs soon.

That left plenty of opportunity to allow Hekate to stretch her legs.

It was normal for Grymington to walk many miles a day with his active dog, and he never tired of making her happy.

“I think Hekate could use a walk,” Grymington told Devlin, who was smoothing his palms over the Lich Reaper’s suit jacket.

“Want to go upstairs, change into jeans, and grab your skateboard?”

Grymington smiled up at Devlin and tilted his chin up for a soft kiss. “Yes.”

“Should we text Orphie and Masse to see if they want us to take their dogs out with us?” Like Grymington, the other two reapers had Siberian Huskies.

It was common for them to walk the huskies together or for one of the men to take all three dogs out alone.

Sometimes the huskies were joined by the other resurrected canine in the family—but Princess was a pug and often grew annoyed at the speed and enthusiasm of the reapers’ pets.

“Yes, I will text them.”

Although Grymington was reluctant to release his hold on Devlin, he reminded himself that he had the entire weekend to enjoy being with him. So, Grymington snagged his phone from his pocket and fired off a group text to his two Scythe Lords. Their replies were immediate.

Both men wanted to enjoy the bright lights of Vegas with Grymington and Devlin. Grymington told them his plans to change and get his skateboard. A minute later, he had his hand in Devlin’s and was heading for the elevator.

Grymington had a busy schedule aiding the Sentinel Brotherhood and making routine visits to cemeteries where he aided lingering spirits trying to find their way across the veil.

Devlin had an equally hectic job as a member of the band he’d founded in the 1990s called Barbed Ebon.

They generally had only one weekend each month carved out for rest and family.

Those few days were spent at the lively D’Vaire mansion, and Grymington adored those visits. He was also embracing this rare opportunity to have nothing to do but enjoy his mate and have some quality time with the people they both cared deeply about.

Devlin waited for the elevator doors to close, then gave Grymington a spicy smile. “I want you to know that no matter how late we wind up staying up tonight, I intend to drag my lips over every inch of you later.”

Once again, Grymington shivered at the thought of being thoroughly loved by Devlin. “If that is a promise, I’ll hold you to it, Devlin.”

Crowding Grymington in the hallway the second they stepped onto the correct floor of the hotel, Devlin nipped the Lich Reaper’s neck above the collar of his shirt and tweaked one of his nipple piercings through his shirt.

“It’s not just a promise, Grym. That’s a guarantee.”

Tugging Devlin close, Grymington smiled at him. “I am eager to be alone with you, so I insist we spend no more than an hour with the dogs. As for the casino, it will be here tomorrow and we can explore it then.”

“I love the way you think, Lich Reaper,” Devlin said.

Grymington was still wearing a grin as Devlin took his mouth in a searing kiss. Despair may have plagued Grymington in the past, but he’d put those dark days behind him, and life was damn good.

∞∞∞

Shane ó Dubhghaile patted his full belly as he stalked out of King of Clubs with his other half, Gryphon.

“I think I ate too much,” Shane complained.

“You aren’t the only one.”

“What do you want to do now?”

Gryphon’s emerald green gaze met Shane’s, and he shrugged. “No clue. Any thoughts?”

“I think the massive amount of food in my stomach is rendering decisions impossible.”

“That sounds completely reasonable and not at all made up,” Gryphon teased as he took Shane’s hand. “Are your feet going to survive a walk around the resort?”

Glancing down, Shane wiggled his toes in the gorgeous navy-and-lavender heeled sandals he had paired with flowing slacks for his date with Gryphon. “Yep. Lead on, Gryphie.”

“I have something to tell you.”

“Okay.”

Although Gryphon made a big production of inhaling deeply then releasing it annoyingly slowly, Shane wasn’t worried. They were best friends as well as mates, and Shane detected no genuine stress on Gryphon’s indisputably handsome face.

“It doesn’t matter how many years we’re together or how often you decide to offer me blowjobs of apology, I will always hate the nickname Gryphie.”

Shane chuckled and wrapped his free arm around the dark jacket of Gryphon’s suit. “Thanks for sharing.”

“What if I found something equally annoying to call you, like Shae-Shae or something?”

“You can do better than that. However, no matter what nickname you come up with, I’m not going to answer to it.”

Gryphon’s black brows drew together in a deep scowl as they strolled through the area of the resort ripe with restaurants and shops. “So, why do you expect me to put up with Gryphie?”

“Easy. You’re nicer than me. Everyone knows I’m the moody, dramatic, spoiled one of this relationship.”

“Normally, I’d disagree with those statements, but you’re ruining my ability to fully enjoy the amount of stress my body is handling right now as it strains to digest the truly appalling amount of food we scarfed down.”

“The staff must be gossiping about us. Two professional dancers out on the town and we both ordered two entrees.”

“And dessert. We’re pigs.”

“That is probably insulting to pig shifters.”

“Do those exist?”

Shane shrugged and lifted a finger to his face to dislodge the mascara-coated eyelashes at the corner of his eye that were determined to get tangled a million times that night.

“Why not? I’m a pony. You’re a griffin. There are all kinds of beasts, including dragons. Why not something common like a pig?”

“Why aren’t they in the Council?”

“Baby, I don’t pay any attention to politics, how would I know?”

“I don’t know. Any theories?”

“Not a one.”

“Do you want to grab a drink at this fancy bar full of hearts?” Gryphon asked as they grew closer to the large establishment. It was about halfway full of people lucky enough to be considered part of the enormous D’Vaire clan.

Shane opened his mouth to answer in the affirmative, but a sound caught his attention. “Do I hear music?”

“Your hearing is better than mine. Lead the way.”

It was at the tip of Shane’s tongue to argue that Gryphon wasn’t inferior to him in any way, but he reined in the part of himself that hated to hear anyone disparage his mate.

As a hybrid, Gryphon’s ears weren’t as finely tuned as Shane’s.

That annoyed Shane. Fate should not have slighted Gryphon and granted him anything less than stellar abilities.

Ignoring the unruly part of him that wanted to bash the face of anyone who mistreated Gryphon, Shane allowed his pony to lead him toward another bar not that far from Hearts.

The lavish hallway they were traversing widened significantly, and they saw that the bar was in the center of the floor.

Instead of walls, there were fancy iron railings separating it from walking patrons.

In addition to the drinks area, there was a low stage. Tonight, instead of a band, they had a DJ playing slow moody music.

“Want to dance with me, Shane?”

Six days a week, Shane was in a studio at Gryphon’s side.

With their father acting as choreographer and director, they were often worked past their known limits.

Once, Shane had been sure there was far more to life than hollowing out his emotions to give audiences a stellar performance and had ended his career.

But combining his soul with Gryphon’s had reignited the passion Shane had for dance in a way that exceeded the love he’d had as a youth for his chosen profession.

Despite the way Shane and Gryphon busted their asses each week, they never tired of taking the floor together.

“I’d love to.”

“Want to grab a drink first?”

“I think after everything we ate, we should probably make some space in our bellies out on the dance floor.”

Gryphon winked at Shane and led him through the iron railings to the dance floor, which already had a few couples—including the Emperors and the Imperial Duke with his mate, the Ducsarcelle—already swaying to the beat.

Within moments, Shane was in Gryphon’s arms, and their feet were moving in sync.

It barely took them any effort to move as a unit.

They were far too close as a couple and used to being partners for any hint of awkwardness.

“I hope I don’t step on your pants and ruin them,” Gryphon said, glancing worriedly down at the palazzo pants Shane had paired with a bowed top.

“It’ll be fine; they’re long but not brushing the floor. My shoes are too high for that.”

“Nice thing about being at the studio is that the clothes you design for us to practice in never get in the way of anything.”

“And they’re way nicer than the ancient rags I wore when I returned to Vegas.”

“You looked like shit.”

Shane threw his head back and laughed. “Tell me how you really feel, baby.”

“I like your clothes now. Your closet—which is disgustingly full like my belly—is an array of gorgeous flowing fabrics that remind me of the first time I met you. They make a statement. That’s my Shane. Vibrant. Bold. And so fucking gorgeous.”

Touched, Shane kissed Gryphon tenderly. “Thank you for putting up with my shit.”

“You put up with far worse from me. But none of that matters now. We’re nailing this matebond stuff.”

“I have a new pair of griffin socks I plan to be wearing later while you nail me.”

“Don’t make me hard on this dance floor.”

“You started it. You were nice to me.”

“If I spend the rest of the night insulting you, will you stop flirting with me?”

Amused by Gryphon’s absurdity, Shane chuckled. “Nope. You’ll feel like shit if I keep being sweet and sexy. Pretty sure you’ll want to make up all that nastiness to me in bed.”

“Shane Tadhg ó Dubhghaile, if you want to stay on this dance floor with me, I suggest you stop talking about the way I’m going to fuck you. Or we’ll forget about the food that needs to settle in our stomachs—and your impossibly high shoes—and run upstairs.”

“Why are you so damn perfect for me?”

“Easy, Fate made me for you.”

Shane slid his hand upward to toy with the dark curls brushing the top of Gryphon’s collar as he brushed their lips together. “Remind me to thank Fate a thousand times later.”

“You can do that while you’re catching your breath after I’ve made such thorough love to you that you’ll briefly wonder if you’ll survive it.”

Laughing, Shane kissed Gryphon again and shuffled closer to him to enjoy the scent of pine that clung to him as they moved to the beat. His life was damn good and centered solely on the man who completed him in every way.