Chapter Nineteen

I kept checking my phone and the digital clock on the TV, reminding myself I didn't have to be at the bar by eight anymore. I'd quit. For real. It felt so good.

I was almost totally moved into Armel's house. The last thing to bring in was my hoard.

Armel's house wasn't huge, but we had enough space for three and were planning to add on in the next months.

The guys had given me the spare room for my hoard. They had surprised me with already-built display shelves for it. I was overwhelmed by their respect and caring for my need. My dragon was so happy that his pens could be on display now and not hidden away like some shameful secret in the closet.

Clay and Armel helped me unload my car. I had a bit more than the toy chest. There were also plastic bags and cardboard boxes.

"Is all this pens?" Clay asked.

I nodded slowly, head down.

Clay came to me and threw his arms around me. "I wasn't criticizing, just amazed. That's a lot of pens, my alpha love."

"They've been my hoard since I started kindergarten and discovered there was more to write with than crayons."

"So, we can be assured there are no crayons in here?" Armel asked.

"No way. No crayons, I assure you both. My dragon is very focused. Pens only."

"Good, because crayons can melt, right?"

"What?" Clay scrunched up his face.

"I'm just saying, it's a hot day." Armel grunted merrily and grabbed up a bunch of boxes, followed by Clay with handfuls of bags. I used the dolly for the wooden toy box and rolled it through the door and down the hall.

My hoard room was amazing. Glass shelves lined the walls. The guys had picked out different-colored glassware to set bunches of pens in, but also had bought clear pen holders for the special pens I loved most and wanted on display. I could also just set pens side by side on the glass. There was plenty of room everywhere for them all. It would be hell to dust, but I was so happy with it all.

"Now I need to decide if I want to sort by color or value or…" I ran my hand through my hair.

"I love the idea of sorting by color," Clay said. "It will look like a rainbow in here when you're done."

"We can help," Armel said.

I hesitated. A weird sort of panic rose up.

Clay, who was tuned in strongest to me emotionally through our bond, said, "Hey, we won't touch anything you don't want us to." He put his hand on my shoulder.

"No, it's okay. I just need to take a few breaths for a minute."

"Take your time," Armel said.

I filled my lungs then began to speak. "I need to explain to you both. This hoard is for my mates, too. I'm compelled to share it. Of course you can both touch them. But I've always known it's worthless. People in my flight told me no one would want me because I had what some meaner dragons called a trash hoard, and that I could never attract a mate with something that could not be monetized."

"What? They said stuff like that to you?"

"I left because of that toxicity. But I still have those feelings inside me. That it really is just a trash hoard. Sometimes I'm embarrassed."

Clay made a dramatic frown. "Fuck them. I think pens are awesome."

"Me, too." Armel came to my other side. "You can use them for more than writing, too."

"Like what?"

"Like you could tape them to a sign and there you go; you have a sign with a handle."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"You can pop a balloon with them," Clay said.

"Not helpful," I muttered.

"No, really." Armel was determined. "There are other things, too. Think about it. Everyone's always losing pens or looking for a pen. But, here in this house, we have them. And they're all going to go in a special place, so they'll never get lost."

Clay raised his hand. "I thought of something else. Pens can be used as pointers. You know. When you want to get your point across."

"You guys are teasing me."

"No, we're not. They're great for pen fights, too," Clay said.

"What's a pen fight?" I asked.

"Like a sword fight. Just smaller swords."

"That sounds fun." Armel made a swishing motion with his forefinger.

"You can throw pens at your friends," Clay offered.

"What? No," I said. "No throwing pens."

"They're also good for putting behind your ear. The perfect place to carry a pen," Armel said.

"If you're bored, you can spin them on a table like a top," Clay said.

"And you can put them in your front shirt pocket when you want to look professional," Armel said.

"Any other suggestions, guys?" I was smiling now.

"Yeah." Clay gave a little jump. "If you have long hair, you can use the pen to put it up and hold it in place."

We all burst out laughing. My mates were the best.

Soon, all three of us were on the floor and sorting amid a lot of oohs, aaahs, and wows.

Until I saw them all unwrapped, I hadn't realized how many I had. Some of them were really nice, too. My dragon loved them all the same, unconditionally.

We decided to sort by color. But when we found special pens that were unique, bigger, or looked more expensive, we set them aside to be placed in the single display holders.

I had duplicates of so many. Those were the results of sales, when I had bought packs of the same brand.

When I looked up at the window, the sunlight was receding.

"Guys, we've been at this for hours."

"It's fun," Clay said. "I barely noticed the time."

"We only have one shelf done though." I hung my head.

"No big deal. We can work on it some every day." Armel ruffled my hair.

"Thanks." My eyes stung a little.

My mates were so kind to me, even the smallest of gestures could bring me to tears. I realized how empty and lonely I'd been since leaving my flight. And even in the flight itself, I'd been alone, different, not really loved. Plus, my parents were not the emotional, hugging types I'd always wished for.

This was my new life, and it was so wonderful, I lately wondered what I'd done to deserve it.

As always, Clay was deeply tied in to my emotions. Often, it was like he could read my mind.

"You're a beautiful alpha with a beautiful heart," Clay said. "You deserve this."

My lips trembled.

He stood up on his toes, caught my face in his hands, and kissed me. When he broke away, he said, "You deserve everything."

I turned to face Armel, Clay at my side. "I love you both. So much. I couldn't have imagined better mates."

"I feel exactly the same." Armel brushed his fingers over my left cheek.

"Same," Clay piped in.

"Now." Armel rubbed his hands together. "Anyone hungry?"

In unison, Clay and I answered, "Yes!"

"Okay, then. We're going out to eat. We need to celebrate. Our new place and Rome's beautiful hoard."

"Our hoard now," I corrected.

"I'm honored." Clay made a dramatic bow.

"We're both honored," Armel added.