Page 1 of Mytho Investigations: Side Stories

WEDDINGS AND OTHER ONE-NIGHT STANDS

WEDDINGS AND OTHER ONE-NIGHT STANDS

Since the collapse, head archer Vlash has survived by being what everyone else needed. He rallied the elves, protected the king, raised his son, and tried not to feel the loss of his wife and daughter. But now his son is an adult, according to human law, and no longer needs him.

The king and the other city rulers are stepping down, so the army is no longer needed. He is a relic of another world. A reminder of a past that the mytho youth don’t remember. At the wedding of the knights, he keenly feels the loss of who he was and the life he’d once had. At two hundred and sixty-six, he’s too young to be this bitter. So, when a human dances with him and looks at him without the deference or fear he is used to seeing, he seizes the opportunity.

While it’s only been a couple of weeks since Mason ended his engagement, and he had no plans of hooking up with anyone at the wedding, he has never been able to resist a man in uniform. Elves in their leather and knives are far too tempting.

One night becomes once a week, then twice a week, and…

Weddings and other One-night Stands has a grumpy elf who hasn’t been with anyone since the collapse and a human who thinks that he’s never going to find anyone who wants him as is. Together, they discover that broken hearts can heal and that one night can lead to finding the one.

CHAPTER 1

The moment Mason saw the Elvish soldiers in their leather uniforms, he’d known his vow to avoid men in uniforms was going to be tested. And tested hard.

It wasn’t only because elves were pretty with their long hair and sharp features; he’d also been warned about their sharp tongues. But the way they carried themselves with the same lethal grace cats had and humans could only aspire to. God—or should that be gods?—he wouldn’t mind feeling one of their tongues in his mouth, or on his dick, or anywhere. He needed to keep his eyes off them and remember why he was freshly and painfully single.

During the service, it had been much easier to avoid looking at the elves as he was concentrating on not feeling as though it should be him getting married. Even though marrying Bud would have been the wrong thing to do, staying with him had been the wrong thing to do, he’d wanted him to be the one. He’d wanted it to work out so badly that he’d ignored all the red flags and the griffin footprints, which was the mytho equivalent saying.

He was happy for Jordan and Edra, and they were so clearly in love that it gave him hope there was someone for him. It also twisted the knife that he was single again at thirty-five, and the idea of dating had him reaching for another drink.

Now that everyone was eating and drinking, he had the time to look around at everyone else. Everyone seemed to be coupled up and happy. Sean was with his ogre boyfriend. Mason shouldn’t have been surprised by that. Sean liked big guys, and he was kind of mytho-obsessed. But they were sickeningly sweet together.

The bitterness churned in his gut. Or maybe that was all the glasses of alcohol he’d downed in the hopes of washing away all thoughts, coupled with all the weird food.

He felt like the only single person in the room, even though he wasn’t, not on the mytho side or the human side. When people started getting up to dance, he wasn’t sure he wanted to join in, but the longer he sat there drinking, the worse he felt.

He’d known Jordan for years, back when Jordan had once worn a uniform, but Mason had known it was never going to work with him, and back then, he hadn’t cared about being single. Jordan deserved someone who made him happy, and Edra did. Mason wanted that, too. Did he not deserve to be happy and loved?

He let a werewolf drag him to his feet to dance and then joined in the game of keeping Jordan and Edra apart for as long as possible. It was only after they’d danced with everyone they were allowed to slink off and do what newlyweds did. Mason’s heart joined in with the churning in his gut.

He needed to decide. Did he keep drinking until he passed out, or did he do what his friends expected and hookup, have some fun? Both options lead to regrets in the morning, and he wasn’t naïve enough to think that a wedding hookup was going to become anything serious. He wasn’t ready for anything serious, but at the same time, he wasn’t getting any younger. This time, he wasn’t thirty and single; he was over thirty-five. Nothing screamed ‘catch’ like a thirty-five-year-old dentist with a dad bod.

In the New Year, he planned on hitting the gym because that was one thing he could change, and the last thing he needed was the sneering from a twenty-something potential date who thought he was shit hot because he had youth on this side.

He danced with a few other people, trying to decide how he wanted his regret served in the morning. If he couldn’t decide, he shouldn’t take either option. But that seemed like a waste of a wedding, especially since it wasn’t his. Even though breaking up with Bud had been the right thing to do, it still fucking hurt.

Mostly because he hadn’t done it sooner. His ego was smarting as much as his heart. But he couldn’t be with someone who hated mythos now that one friend was married to one and another friend would be soon. It would take Sean less than a year to be married, and Mason would be sitting at another wedding complaining about being single and getting closer to forty. Was he turning into one of those people?

No, he wasn’t turning into one of those people he already was.

Which was so much worse.

He needed another drink. Then he’d decide what to do. But he only made it two steps off the dance floor before an elf kitted up in a very fancy leather uniform put his arm around him.

For a heartbeat, he considered pulling away. Elves were dangerous. And not just because they were armed but because they had the magic to bind a person with their own words.

Maybe it was possible to make some kind of vow to find the right man and let mytho magic sort it out.

The elf’s touch was firm, and Mason wasn’t sure he’d be able to get away even if he tried. The leather was buttery soft beneath his fingertips and highly decorated—colored and embossed. This wasn’t the kind of uniform worn in battle, despite the number of weapons the elf was wearing.

Mason made sure not to touch the sword or the knives that he could see. He was sure there were some he couldn’t. He lifted his gaze to meet the elf’s. His eyes were impossibly blue, and his long, honey-blond hair was elaborately braided in places while the rest tumbled down his back.

The elf didn’t need magic…Mason would do whatever he asked as long as it involved getting naked. He swallowed and looked away. Rebound sex was not what he needed.

But it was what he wanted, and the alcohol in his blood had washed away all the reasons it was a bad idea.