Page 2 of Mytho Investigations: Side Stories

“You seem to be here out of duty and not enjoying yourself,” the elf murmured as he dragged Mason back onto the dance floor.

How did he answer that? He was here to support Jordan. Could everyone tell he didn’t like being here alone? He hoped not. He needed to seem as though he was enjoying himself. He forced a smile.

“I’m happy for Jordan and Edra, but I broke up with my boyfriend a couple of weeks ago, and this is more painful than I imagined.” The words fell off his tongue. Now, he sounded morose. He should’ve kept his mouth shut.

Instead of mocking him, though, the elf nodded and pulled him closer, not even pretending to maintain enough distance to keep the dance respectful. Now they were pressed together in a way that was far more suited to a nightclub at one o’clock in the morning. Not that Mason minded because the elf knew how to dance, and Mason was sure he knew how to dance off the floor as well.

“So you are here alone?”

“Yeah,” Mason said, not sure where this was going or where he wanted it to go. Men in uniforms were trouble. Elves more so. Yet he couldn’t look away, and he liked the way the elf’s hand moved to cup his ass instead of his hip. “I am.” He needed to say something or ask something. He remembered how to have a conversation. “Are you working?”

The elf laughed. It was a rusty sound, as though it didn’t get used very often. “I am always working.”

Right, that wasn’t an answer.

The song ended, and he released Mason, which was rather unfortunate because now he didn’t know what to do. Meanwhile, the elf had already moved on to his next dance partner, which sparked an irrational spike of jealousy because he didn’t want to get grindy on or off the dancefloor with the elf.

Maybe a little.

After a couple of seconds, Mason made his way back to his seat and had another glass of wine. But his eyes kept drifting to the elf. Unlike the others who stood around the room and didn’t join in, the blond not only wore a fancier uniform, but he also had a golden band on his head, much like the ones Jordan and Edra had been wearing. Even though Mason wasn’t sure what they meant, they definitely meant something, which meant the elf was someone important.

Definitely more trouble than he could handle.

CHAPTER 2

Vlash was aware of Mason’s gaze on him as he danced and talked and pretended he was enjoying himself. He didn’t mind weddings, but this one was too similar to the life he’d lived before the collapse. It was the ceremony and the gathering of the important mythos and the damn uniform. The wounds he thought long healed bled afresh.

Everyone in this room had lost someone. He wasn’t special, but tonight, with all the magic and everyone dressed up, it was as if nothing had changed, even though it had been over a decade since the collapse. The loss of his wife and daughter in the collapse clawed at his heart.

And all he wanted was to forget.

To lose himself and exist in the moment in a way he hadn’t done in what seemed like centuries, even though it was probably only decades. In the same heartbeat, he didn’t want to forget because then they would be gone forever. But he was so tired of existing.

When he’d grabbed Mason for a dance, it had been because he’d seemed lonely and a little sad—something he recognized and tried not to acknowledge—but there’d been a glimmer in his eyes when he’d pulled him close. A spark Vlash hadn’t seen since…

He pushed the thought aside. This felt like the past, but it wasn’t.

It was a painful lie because the king wanted to remember for a little longer.

He made it through another two songs and a conversation with Xan, the werewolf alpha, before he let his feet take him to Mason’s table.

The human man looked up as if surprised to see him, but shock gave way to naked desire in less than a second. No one had dared look at him in that way for a very long time. He was the head archer. Elves regarded him with fear. They jumped to obey. Humans hated him, sometimes simply because he was mytho, other times specifically because he was an elf and would outlive them.

To anyone watching, he was making sure the guests were having a good time. Doing his job and making sure everything went smoothly and that no fights broke out. Although a fight would be a nice distraction. He’d been disappointed Carlin Howard had confessed so quickly. Instead of praying for violence, he should bask in the lust.

Vlash held his hand. “We can cry into mead later. We should dance now.”

He should’ve just asked him to dance, but his intent was clear. Neither of them was having a great time, and crying into mead sometimes purged the wound.

Mason opened his mouth, and for a couple of heartbeats, Vlash thought he was going to refuse. Then he stood, and his fingers closed around Vlash’s.

The heat in Mason’s eyes didn’t dim.

On the dance floor, Vlash pulled him close again, in a way he hadn’t with his other dance partners. With other mythos, his rank got in the way, and the other humans didn’t look at him the way Mason did.

That Mason was human wasn’t so easy to brush aside, but the way he looked at him was intoxicating. It was as if Mason didn’t care that Vlash had rank in power. Well, he had those things tonight. The rest of the time, he was just the struggling owner of a corner store with a grown-up son, intent on embracing the human world and forgetting where he came from.

Because he didn’t remember. And sometimes Vlash envied Lekso.