Chapter 14

Olistaire

I've… just been broken up with. I honestly don't think that's ever happened to me before. Well, it probably has and I just can't remember it, since I likely wasn't particularly bothered by the event.

Apparently, I'm bothered now.

I spent what is possibly the most incredible night with Grace that I think I've ever had, and now she says she's done with me. But I am far, far from done. If anything, I want her more now than I ever did before, and that's saying something, considering how obsessively my thoughts had been centered on her. She's beautiful, she's warm, she sets my body on fire and what's more, I just want to be near her. Even simply talking to her satisfies a huge part of me, settles something in my chest. Since when do I invite women to breakfast after a night together? Never. But Grace had seemed ready to leave, and I hadn't been ready to be away from her yet, so out came my invitation.

Was it a date? Had I asked her on a breakfast date, knowing it wouldn't lead to anything physical—simply wanting to spend time in her presence?

I absently rub at my wrist as I cruise along the streets, thinking, with no clear destination in mind. I dropped her off at Rhokar's and left without getting out of the car. Now, I can't seem to decide what to do with myself.

Conversation during the rest of our meal had gone just fine, but I have to admit I'd felt flat. I still feel flat now. Flat, and…

Disappointed? Definitely. She has the body of a seductress and an instinctive, enthusiastic, raw way of lovemaking that is the most addictive thing I've ever encountered. She makes me feel desired beyond only what my performance can give. As if what she wanted was

me,

rejecting foreplay and more pleasure just to have me closer… My heart twangs at the memory. I am more than just disappointed.

But, upset? Am I upset at the loss?

I consider this. Why would I be upset? It's always just a physical thing with me, and the good thing is that physical is replaceable, to a degree. Sure, all females are beautiful and individual, bringing different quirks and pleasures with them, but in the end the rotation is equally gratifying. Constantly tasting new, exotic beauties… It's what I like. Obviously.

And it's better than what Father did, once he'd lost his Fated Mate. I'd never seen him with Mom, she'd died giving birth to me, but I did see him taking on one long-term relationship after the other for the convenience of having someone to look after me while he worked, and fucked anything else that moved on the side. I saw how that broke each and every partner he had, tore her up until she couldn't stay any longer, not even for me. And then he'd simply start the process again with a new female.

It's clear I don't have fidelity in my genetics, so instead of trying to force it and ending up like the cold, calculated man who financed my upbringing, hurting innocent females along the way, I've embraced my nature and spared the emotions. It's worked out fine for me.

Clearly, upset

isn't quite the right description. It can't be a feeling of loss that I'm experiencing, that wouldn't make sense. So, what is it?

I head to the gym without going back home first, since I'm not ready to see all the places I had Grace folded and bent over last night, not until I get my head straight. I have my gym bag packed and ready in my car at all times, so I spend some time building up a sweat, soaking it off in the sauna afterwards, and then shocking my body with an ice-cold shower.

But it doesn't help to clear my thoughts like usual.

I flick out my phone as I hop back in the car, and call Rho. It rings out, and then I get a text.

Kids are having a meltdown. Talk later.

See, this is why relationships aren't for me! No peace, no free time… What are you even supposed to do with screaming children, anyway? I huff and start driving again.

Why am I so agitated? I decide to grab a coffee, just for something to do. Bitter Sweet is always bustling at this time of the day, especially on the weekend, and it's because they undeniably have the best coffee in Whispering Pines, so I'm happy to wait in line.

I order my usual from the snow-white yeti behind the counter. Her fur is always gloriously styled in different waves and intricate patterns every day, her edges unfailingly crisp against the porcelain skin of her face and chest, but this morning I barely have the energy for my usual appreciation of her brand of beauty. I sigh, still feeling

off , when I notice Malachite's all-black form enter the line for a take-away order. He spots me, and when his green eyes dart away awkwardly I smile. Not really very social, that one.

I wait on the side as they make my order, until eventually the gargoyle comes up the line and joins me.

I nod at him, and he clears his throat. "Having a good morning?"

"Not particularly," I reply with a shrug. "I had the best sex of my life last night, but today I've been dumped."

Malachite stares at me with a stony blankness that is either disapproval, shock, or… plain blankness, it's hard to read.

"What about you?" I ask casually.

He blinks. "I'm… fine."

"Ah, sweet Mal," I sigh, clapping him on the shoulder and not minding one bit when his leathery black wing buffets me with a twitch. "Of course you are. You're always fine. I avoid relationships to avoid these sorts of upheavals, and yet they still manage to find me. How do you do it? How do you always seem so drama free?"

He clears his throat again, gazing at my hand on his shoulder for a long moment. "I don't know."

"There must be a secret to your success. I look up to you in this regard, you know." I pat his shoulder and take pity on him, removing the contact since he seems so awkward about it. "Your life is always so peaceful. So simple. Is it because you avoid the fairer sex altogether?"

His eyes trace up to meet mine silently.

"Because if that's the case, I just don't think I can do it. How do you live without their softness? Don't you ever crave the connection of lovemaking, the fleeting burst of ecstasy to make you feel alive?"

"Irish coffee, extra cream."

"Just a moment." I pat his shoulder again as I grab my morning treat, which I'd been hoping would sooth the… whatever-it-is I'm feeling towards Grace right now.

Malachite stares at me flatly when I return to his side.

"Give me something, Mal," I say with a grin. "Help me out and I'll leave you to your stoic isolation, scouts honor. Not that I was ever a scout."

He regards me unblinkingly, and then lets out the smallest sigh of defeat. "This is about Grace, isn't it."

"She is the loveliest female in all creation, but I've been with plenty of lovely females. And yet I can't seem to…" I pause, feeling something strange swirling in my chest. "Why doesn't she want me? I gave her everything she asked for last night. I know she was satisfied."

"Good gods, why are you telling me this…" Mal whispers, his eyes widening at the floor for a moment before he turns back to me. "How am I supposed to know? Ask her."

I wave my hand. "She already explained her reasoning. It makes perfect sense, and I won't push her."

What little emotion that had leaked into his face falls away, and he stares at me again. I quirk a grin as his silence makes the direct juxtaposition of my own words obvious.

"Alright, fine, not why

doesn't she want me, then."

"Cold brew, no ice, no cream, no sugar."

Malachite grabs his coffee, and I dart a quizzical look at it as we walk towards the door. "Not even any ice?" I ask, as I sip my spiked coffee. "Really?"

"I like it," he says simply.

"It's just that I can't seem to stop thinking about her rejection." I jump back into my conversation naturally, which seems to disconcert the introverted gargoyle as we exit into the sunlight. "It's more than just disappointment at our physical connection being cut short, but I can't pinpoint what it is. It's nagging at me."

"Perhaps you like her."

"Of course I like her, she's becoming a very good friend."

"Romantically."

"Mal, please," I huff, my heart skipping a beat with how… silly that thought is. "Let's be reasonable, here."

He mutters something under his breath, and then stops, turning to look at me fully. I pause too, tilting my head at the slight intensity shift in his expressionless expression, waiting to see what wisdom he might bestow.

"I don't know what to tell you," he says flatly. And then he just stares at me.

I stare back for a second more.

"Well, this has been enlightening." I smile, clap him on the arm, and turn away with a salute of my drink. "Have a good day."

"Oh, thank the gods…" I hear him mutter under his breath at the ending of our conversation, and I chuckle as I stroll back to my car.

Good old Mal, he's a great sport, and at least he helped me narrow down further regarding what isn't the issue here. Romantic entanglement… Please, how unlikely.

But I can't stop nagging at the thought, questioning my reaction. Now that I'm alone again, my thoughts turn back to breakfast, and I can once more feel the way my stomach dropped once I realized where our conversation was heading this morning, my heartbeat speeding up as if adrenaline shooting through my system was any way to deal with the situation. Adrenaline is for sex, fear, and excitement. But we weren't having sex, and there was nothing to be excited about.

I unlock my car as I approach it on the street, pause, lock it again, and keep walking.

But there was nothing to fear, either. Was there?

Why would I fear losing Grace?

It just doesn't make sense. It's not like this changes our relationship. We're still friends, we'll still meet and chat like normal. We may even be better friends now with the shared experience of our terrible exes.

Having sex, not having sex… since when did that do anything to define my feelings towards a female? Sex is entirely separate from emotions, there's nothing tying one to the other.

It just doesn't make sense.

I won't get to touch her anymore, sure. I won't have her naked skin pressed against my fur, won't hear her cry out my name as if I'm the only male in the world, or feel her clutch me to her body like she'll never let me go. I'll not experience the sound of her soft breaths as she falls asleep at my side, snuggling into my chest unconsciously as if I'm more comfortable than her pillow. I'll lose all of that, of course, after only just discovering it.

But I can get all that from anyone else, can't I?

I shake my head and let my feet carry me on, my thoughts uselessly spinning and circling and coming to no conclusion, nothing to satisfy the itch on just what is going on with me.

Why would I fear losing Grace, when I won't be losing her at all?

I just don't get it.