Chapter 20

Olistaire

The crisp fall air bites at the exposed skin of my nose as I stride purposefully through the event site bright and early in the morning. I sweep my gaze over the bustling activity around me, as workers scurry about setting up a stage for the band and putting the finishing touches on gazebos dotting the perfectly landscaped, sprawling gardens that sweep out over the west wing of the lodge. Despite the frantic energy surrounding me, I find myself oddly uninterested.

That's what friends are for…

Grace's words have been repeating through my thoughts for days. Friends.

I rub at my wrist and keep rubbing as my steps take me through the chaos of the morning, towards where I see Rho and Mal in the distance. I've never felt this way before. Confused and agitated and… unsettled. My thoughts simply won't resolve themselves, and they continue to circle around Grace.

I've got you, baby.

Why did those words hit me so hard in the chest? When she sat on my lap, naked and beautiful, and told me she had me while she slid her heat around me, something shifted in my chest. Why did it make me feel wanted, looked after—all these strange, sentimental feelings that had no place popping up when they did. Am I really so pathetic that a bit of meaningless fun would trigger such emotions in me?

It wasn't meaningless.

The words ring in my head with finality and push out all other sounds.

It's never been meaningless. Not with her.

My steps slow, and I look up at the blue sky with a faint ringing in my ears. I'm lonely. I'm hollow. But she makes me feel…

"Oli,

I've been calling your name for a full minute now!" I blink as Sera's glossy wings flash across my line of sight, and she swoops once through the air around me before landing with a sharp swish of feathers. "Are you alright?"

I take a second to come back out of my thoughts. "Yes."

"Right," Sera says slowly, before lifting the tablet in her hands. "Do you have a second? I wanted to finalize the influencer list for this weekend."

With my strange melancholy still hovering around my shoulders, I do my best to offer her a smile and hold out my hand for the tablet, which she hands over. "Are you… sure you're alright?"

I don't respond, scrolling through the list before me without seeing anything. "Looks good," I mutter, handing the device back. "I trust your judgment."

But when I turn to continue on my way, she slides in front of me again and places her hand on my chest.

"Oli, baby," she hums, and her long nails scrape against my fur as she tucks a finger between my buttons. "I've never seen you like this. Has that silly little human, been treating you badly?"

I take her hand in mine and pull it away. "Don't call me that." It sounds so wrong coming from her.

She purses her red-painted lips, but doesn't step back. "You deserve better than her."

"That's for me to decide." I take a deliberate step around her, but her hand snatches out onto my chest again. I lower my horns and pull her hand away more firmly. "Sera . "

"Look, you're in a relationship for the first time since anyone can remember," she snaps, before taking a deep breath and plastering a suddenly sweet smile on her face. "Fine, I get it. We all have to experiment sometimes. But just know, relationship or not, I'll always be here for you. Come and find me whenever you need, our time together can remain our own little secret."

I shake my head and take a long step back from her. I don't want a repeat of our conversations, I don't want to explain myself to her again and again. She knows that our time together is over. She knows that I'm pursuing Grace. Bringing it up again would just prolong this moment needlessly.

"Have a lovely morning, Seraphina." I try for a polite smile as my wrist tingles with a strange, sparking itch, and I rub it again as I stride purposely past her.

Spotting Rho once more I head straight towards him to cut off any further conversation with the harpy, and I place myself deliberately between him and Ismelda.

"I thought I saw you with Mal," I say, swinging an arm over Rho's shoulder as I smile at the witch. "Good morning, Isme."

"I was." Rho flicks my arm away, unbothered, as Ismelda greets me with a wave. "We finalized what we needed for security on Saturday. He said he was going to grab a coffee, and then finish his own preparations. Why, d'you need him?"

"No." I have an urge to rub at my wrist again, and I shove it in my pocket to avoid it. "Did you know, he drinks his iced coffee without any ice?"

"Huh." Rho thinks for a moment, then shrugs. "Odd."

"How are we going with PR?" Ismelda asks, raising her brow and flicking her gaze towards where I was just talking with Sera.

"It's great." I smile, and feel suddenly like I don't want to be around people anymore. "Everything's coming along as planned."

"Our Seraphina was looking mighty cozy with you, dearie," she says with mild disapproval. "Are you sure that was a good idea?"

I let out a sigh, and even I can tell it doesn't hold my usual flair of lighthearted drama. "I'd… really rather not talk about her." I look over my shoulder, back towards the entrance where I've parked my car. "Do you need me for anything? I might head to the office, I've got work to do."

Rho's hand comes down over my shoulder, and I turn to see him squinting suspiciously at me. "I thought that's what your staff were for."

"Are you feeling alright?" When I turn to Ismelda, her disapproval has morphed to concern.

I rub at my wrist. "Yes." When nobody says anything else, both just looking at me strangely, I begin to turn away. "If you need me, give me a call."

"Oh, one thing before you leave," Ismelda pipes up, although she's still eyeing me with worry. "We'll need you here a little early, all the owners and their partners have a photoshoot to get out of the way before the festivities."

"Alright, I'll be there."

"Will Grace be your date?"

That's what friends are for…

My rubbing turns to scratching against my inner wrist, and I notice a few tiny tufts of fur float up between us on the breeze. "Yes."

Unfortunately, Ismelda notices too, and before I can stop her, she has my wrist in her hand and is gently turning it over. When she gasps, her eyes widening at what she sees, I turn my own gaze up towards the sky again, that strange ringing once more in my ears.

"Olistaire, love, you…"

I put my hands back into my pockets. My heart is beating with a strange, tugging sort of rhythm and I have every desire to simply turn and walk away, following wherever it leads me.

"For fuck's sake," Rhokar gruffs, before he grabs at my forearm and drags me away. Through the crowd of frantic staff setting up, past the beautifully built but still hollow lodge and beyond the borders of construction, until we hit the line of trees that signify the start of Boise National Park.

He continues to walk us a little way in, until the sound of people fades away, and all I can hear are the leaves around us shifting in the breeze, and the gentle song of birds and insects.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks as we come to a stop, and I quietly slip my hands in my pockets once more. "How long have you known?"

Known what? There's nothing to know. I should get back.

My thoughts begin to spin faster, and I look away.

I hear a low growl of annoyance, and then he grabs my arm again and forces it up, turning it so my slowly scarring wrist hovers right before my face. I finally look at it.

At the long sweep of what was once a tiny scratch, but is now an almost complete and perfect circle. A labyrinth of smaller, geometric lines spin from the outer edges, reaching for the center with a sprawling, unified pattern. Just like what my father once shared with his Fated Mate.

I can no longer ignore it. I've been pretending to myself since I last saw Grace that this wasn't happening, pretending I still thought it was just a scratch. I've been avoiding looking at my own wrist like a child.

But I knew, deep down inside. Something had clicked into place, something accelerated inside me the last time Grace and I came together. Something powerful and frightening. I have a Fated Mark, the sacred Labyrinth that appears on all minotaur's wrists when they find their Fated Mate, the center of their heart's maze.

My heartstring is tied to hers. Our hearts now beat as one, forever tugging us towards each other.

I've spent my life wishing this would never happen to me, and hoping in the same breath that it would. Thinking about the Labyrinth seared into my father's wrist, which he sliced in half with a kitchen knife when Mom died. Each pattern is unique to every mated pair, a matching, visual representation of their connection, and when he lost her, he couldn't bear to see it whole and complete anymore. He admitted that to me once, the only time I ever saw beyond his cold mask.

"Grace doesn't have one." The words come out of me unbidden, and I gesture at my wrist.

Rho blows out a long breath and releases me. "She's a human, you idiot."

"I know."

"So, it doesn't matter if she doesn't have one. It doesn't mean the same thing."

Slowly, I put my hand back in my pocket. "I know."

"Then, why—" He cuts his words off suddenly, before running one big green palm from forehead to tusks, and glaring at me. "Just tell me what the problem is."

"She doesn't want me."

"Did she tell you that?"

"Yes." My heart is still beating with a steady tug, and the ringing in my ears hasn't quite gone away. I feel lost. "And no."

"Yes and no," Rho mutters. "Great. Perfect. I hate you."

My lips twitch in a small smile.

"Listen here you big, hairy moron." Rho shoves both his hands against my shoulders and leans forward. "Where's the male I know who goes after any female he wants without hesitation? What in all fifteen hells has come over you?"

My smile stretches, and my chest begins to warm at the ridiculous, dramatic frustration coursing through my oldest friend. Gods, I love getting a rise out of him. "I thought you wanted me to stay away from your mate's sister?"

He snorts with annoyance and shoves me away. "Olistaire, you stubborn-headed bull.

It's different now. Just ask her out like a normal person and let the chips fall where they may."

"I did ask her out."

"Oh." His expression turns suspicious. "And?"

"And she said yes."

He sighs roughly. "I'm going to punch you."

"As a friend, Rho." My smile dims, even in the light of my favorite grumpy bastard's ire. "She made a point of calling us friends. And bringing up her ex. She said yes for him , not for me."

Rho squints his eyes further. "So, you're just giving up?"

"Well, no." I let out my own sigh, before flopping down to sit between the roots of the pine tree behind me, not caring about dirt getting on my suit. "And yes."

After a few moments, Rho thumps himself down beside me as I stare at my mark, forcing myself to take it in. It's forming similarly to my father's scar, though his maze-lines were thicker, harsher.

"You're not him," Rhokar says gruffly, rightly guessing at who my thoughts are turning towards. "You'll never be him."

I clench my hand and drop it between my knees. "I can't trick a female into being with me."

"Who said anything about trick? You… woo her."

I chuckle and turn to him. "Like you wooed Ella? Grace has more of a temper than her—"

"Ella has plenty of temper, don't you worry about that…"

"—I wouldn't survive a day if I used your idiot tactics," I continue over him, grinning as he rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I was stupid." Rho drops his head back against the tree, and side-eyes me. "D'you remember what you told me, that day in the gym when I was all set to abandon hope?"

I look back down at my hand.

"You said, and I quote, ‘she might just be afraid, you great fuck.' From what I understand, Grace has been burned a lot by males. Sounds to me like trust could be difficult for her. She really might just be afraid."

"She might not be the only one," I whisper, barely audible over the rushing sound of a sudden breeze. Even as the words leave me, I realize the utter truth of them. How can I be with someone like Grace, when I don't know how to be with anyone at all? How could I possibly make it work without hurting her in the process? I don't know what that looks like for me. I don't know how to do that.

I was so happy for so long avoiding all serious attachments with females, and then this pretty little human drops before me and blows through all my defenses like they're nothing. Without even trying to.

What if she doesn't ever want me? What if she does? What if I give in to this feeling and then break her, like my father broke every female after my mother died? I begin to lose myself in a downward spiral of thoughts and wonder if it wouldn't have been better for Grace if I never came into her life in the first place.

Rho punches me in the arm. Hard.

"Ouch," I deadpan, sending him a glare.

"Do you want her?" he growls, glaring right back at me.

"Rho, I don't know how—"

He punches me again, in the exact same spot. "I don't care about all the rest. Do you want her?"

"Yes , " I mutter, rubbing at my arm. "Fuck."

"And does she know that?"

"I…" I frown and look away. "I don't know."

"Then tell her." Rho stands, offers me his hand and pulls me up. "Idiot."