When Mac came out of their bathroom dressed in a black silk tunic and pants elegantly embellished with thread and beads handcrafted by Elven D’Vaire, Idris pulled him into a hug. “We don’t need to do this. I thought it was a good idea before, but maybe it’s not the best.”
Mac held him tight. “Sweetheart, it’s fine. I’m glad we’re doing this.”
“I know elves have these kinds of memorial services either the day before or on the day they’re mated, but I’m worried about you.”
“You know, losing my grandparents still seems kind of surreal. The funerals, especially my grandfather’s,¬ didn’t give me any sense of closure. I like the idea of having all of our family around me while I truly say good-bye.”
“Okay, but if you want to stop and come back into the house or whatever, I won’t mind. This is for you, not for anyone else.”
Pulling away, Mac’s eyes met his. There was love over the sadness, and Idris knew it would be a difficult memorial service. “I think I need this.”
Idris raised a hand to his jaw, then brought their lips together. “You ready to go outside?”
“Yeah, I just need to do one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Tell my mate I love him.”
“I love you too, Mac.”
Hands locked, they left their bedroom. Roger flew out of wherever he’d waited while they’d dressed, and he landed on Mac’s shoulder. Idris hoped he didn’t snag the beautiful ensemble the D’Vaire elves put together. They made their way through the house and out to the backyard. The entire D’Vaire household and assorted guests were already assembled. Like Mac and Idris, they were wearing elven attire. Chairs were set up in the garden, and they were all filled. Standing right in front of the large fountain were the five D’Vaire elves and the Valzadari Chieftain.
Idris and Mac strode past the nearly silent crowd and headed straight for the elves.
“Ready?” Evlithar asked softly.
“I’m ready,” Mac replied.
“Thank you, everyone, for joining us today as we honor those that have come before us,” Chieftain Lorcan Acwellan-D’Vaire said. “Elves are born with endless lifespans, but Fate doesn’t have the same plan for us all. As the first of our ancestors passed, a tradition was born not to dwell in sadness but to celebrate the joy once brought by those no longer on this side of the veil. At D’Vaire, we’re a combination of many races and therefore many customs. Tomorrow we will join together Arcanist Idris Vioric-D’Vaire and Duke Macardle D’Vairedraconis. Today, we rejoice in the love of Lloyd and Bretta Stenetdraconis. Duke Dravyn, will you join us?”
Resplendent in forest green, Dravyn left his chair and joined their group. He turned to the crowd. “Grand Warlock, will you unveil the latest addition to the memorial garden?”
Dra’Kaedan bowed his head in a nod as he let a small ball of magic fly from his hand. It headed for an area right next to the stone statues of the warlocks, and a tall tree surrounded by a ring of shrubs came into view.
“This garden began with a single gazebo built for the Grand Warlock. Each statue, each flower, each item has been added in remembrance of someone loved by the D’Vaires. This tree is a cinnamon tree. Bretta Stenetdraconis, I’m told, once made the best cinnamon rolls on the planet. Below it is a ring of gray dogwoods as that was the color of Lloyd Stenetdraconis’s dragon. In our garden, just as he did in life, he protects his mate.”
Idris’s eyes welled at the touching thing Dravyn had done. He glanced over to find Mac quietly weeping. Wrapping an arm around his waist, Idris held on tight. Mac pulled him even closer but remained quiet.
“When you lose someone, Fate leaves us with nothing but memories to sustain them. Elves believe in tying a memory to something tangible. A string of beads you can pull out anytime you need to feel that person close to you,” Chieftain Cadlyr Cwylld-D’Vaire stated. His mate walked over and offered a beautiful gray necklace interspersed with black and indigo. Mac bent his head so Evlithar could place it over his head. He had a second one for Idris.
“We need never say good-bye, for our loved ones are always with us,” Evlithar said as Cadlyr offered matching strings of beads to Mac and Idris.
Lorcan, his brother Corwin, and his mate Talfryn all gave them similar necklaces; then Chieftain Valzadari added the final one.
“Is it my turn?” Mac whispered to Idris.
“You only have to speak if you want to,” Idris whispered back.
Mac put enough distance between them so he could turn, and Idris did the same. Then Mac pulled their bodies snug a second time. He let out a shaky breath before he spoke. “If I could only tell one story about my life, it’d be one that never happened. It all started the day I met Idris. I’ve heard for some it’s difficult to go from being single to giving all of themselves to another, but that hasn’t been the case for me. The moment I saw Idris, I had a dream. I’d be standing right here making promises to him with my grandparents—the people who raised me into the man I am—right in the front row. I wanted them to meet all of you.” Mac stopped for a few seconds and fresh tears fell. “To hug my mate the way they so often embraced me. I wanted them to see this garden and all that Dravyn has planted. On this side of the veil, they won’t get that chance but thanks to all of you, they’ll always be out here waiting for me. I can’t express what it means to me. I know they’re here with us now. Grandpa’s complaining that my speech is too long, and Grandma’s hushing him so she can hear. And tomorrow, on the most important day of my life, they’ll be the ones crying.”
“We’ll conclude with a moment of silence. Let your hearts and your minds think not only of Mac’s dear grandparents but of each person who has touched your life before moving on to the other side of the veil,” Lorcan said. “Nothing is lost from the soul as long as it is not forgotten.”
Idris bowed his head and thought of the two lovely people who’d raised his mate. He was sorry they wouldn’t be there for their ceremony. His own grandfather came to mind, and he hoped he’d found the solace in death he didn’t have in life. Mac’s arms came around him, and he held him close with all his strength. He made a silent promise to himself and to Mac that he would always keep Lloyd and Bretta in his thoughts. It was the least he could do after Fate gifted him with the man they’d raised.
* * *
After an emotional week, Idris was excited to finally see a real smile on Mac’s face. He’d just joined him in the freshly expanded memorial garden. They were both wearing black and indigo cloaks over sleeveless shirts and pants. The chairs around them were filled with people in their finest ensembles, and Idris grinned when he spotted Imperial Duke Damian Draconis holding Roger securely in his lap.
“We can begin whenever you’re ready,” Aleksander told them.
“I’ve been ready since the day I met Mac,” Idris replied.
“I believe that means you may proceed, Your Highness,” Mac said.
“Ladies and gentlemen, today Court D’Vaire gets to unite two of our own. Arcanist Idris Vioric-D’Vaire came to us at the tender age of sixteen and from the moment we met him, we understood this was his destiny. A powerful young wizard who, in a matter of weeks, will join the Spectra Wizardry as a respected voice in its leadership. He was born with substantial magic, but it was his hard work and dedication which has him poised on the cusp of greatness. Idris brings to us all his large heart and positive attitude. He’s an inspiration to all who meet him,” Aleksander stated.
“Duke Macardle D’Vairedraconis is the newest addition to our family, yet it seems as if he was born a D’Vaire. Raised by two remarkable people, he’s a man of honor and integrity. In a large group of men invited to interview here, he was the only one with the wit and experience necessary to be considered. From the moment he arrived, we’ve all been impressed with his innate desire to protect and care for us all. For me personally, I couldn’t imagine a better man for our Idris.”
Mac gave Idris a wink as Aleksander spoke again. “Gentlemen, please raise your left hands.”
Cadlyr approached Idris with one of the daggers made for Mac. Chrysander had the other, and the pair cut matching marks across Mac and Idris’s palms.
They placed their hands together as Aleksander’s voice rang out again. “Draconis to Wizard. Arcanist to Duke. Their souls are now tied and their lives now linked. May their hearts always stay united, so they will never want another.”
Idris felt the connection begin between them and while it caused love to fill his heart, it wouldn’t be complete until Mac bit him later.
“Dragons claim their mates with a bite that leaves no mark. Centuries ago, a draconic tradition began of exchanging rings,” Aleksander said. “Mac and Idris will exchange bands to allow the world to bear witness to their joining.”
Their metalsmith, Madeline D’Vairedraconis, approached them. She handed each of them a stunning ring. In the center was a band of silver that once belonged to Lloyd and Bretta. Around it was a stylized mix of black and indigo, and along the edge of each was a thin line in D’Vaire blue-black.
“Thank you for entrusting me with such treasures,” Madeleine said.
“I love them,” Mac responded. She smiled, then returned to the seat next to her mate, Larissa.
Though his eyes were a little damp, Mac raised his head high as he slipped the band down Idris’s finger. “Chosen by Fate and accepted by my heart as true, I accept you as my mate.”
Idris’s hand was shaking, but he managed to get Mac’s ring on. “Chosen by Fate and accepted by my heart as true, I accept you as my mate.”
“By the tradition of the Draconis Court of D’Vaire, you are now mates. You have honored all of us by allowing us to bear witness to your joining,” Aleksander said.
Mac shrugged off his cloak and Idris followed suit. This time it was Delaney who cut Idris’s palm, and Vadimas did the honor for Mac. Mac’s voice boomed out. “Draconis to Wizard. Arcanist to Duke. Our blood has spilled, and our spirits have bonded. We ask Fate to grant us a mark from left shoulder to elbow, so the world may bear witness we belong only to each other.”
A fiery burn worked down the top of Idris’s arm, but when he peeked and saw Mac’s beautiful dragon emblazoned on it, he forgot all about the pain. He turned his gaze to Mac and his mating mark was Idris in an indigo crown. His likeness was standing with Roger at his side and he was dressed in a dark suit. Over it, he had a stunning cloak of indigo and black dragonskin.
“It seems Fate already thinks you’re a High Arcanist,” Mac remarked.
“I guess I’d better not let her down.”
Mac took Idris’s face into his hands and kissed him long and deep. “I love you,” he whispered when he raised his head.
“I love you too.”
“Congratulations, gentlemen. A long and happy life awaits you,” Aleksander said.
“Thanks,” Idris responded. He turned to the crowd as Roger wrestled his way out of the Imperial Duke’s hold and landed on Mac’s shoulder. “And thanks, Brogan, for thinking we needed more security.”
Brogan smirked. “About time you thanked me for Mac.”
“Oh, Idris. You have no idea what a monster you’ve just created,” Dra’Kaedan lamented.
“No worries, Dra’Kaedan. Noirin made us all a cake out of donuts for you to drown your sorrows,” Mac said as he held Idris close.
“A cake of donuts? Tell me more. Is there still frosting?”
Idris laughed at the warlock’s sweet tooth and kissed Mac again. His mating ceremony was perfect.