“My great-nephew?” Viraj glanced over his shoulder to see the two beaming behind him. And certainly, the boy favored Gaspard in many ways, save for pallor and something similar about their lips. Golden hair, almost blond, a trait from his Dior heritage. Still, he carried something about his lips and stature from the Vritra.
“Nephew! It has been too long. The last I saw you, you were still a pup about—” Viraj halted as two little ones clung to Bastien’s pant legs, soft light-brown skin, bright eyes, and coppery and dark hair. Their names escaped Viraj when he tried to recall the boy’s mate—mates. “About that size. Hello, little ones.”
Viraj had great-great nephews; the first time seeing them, and he loved them already, opening arms wide. A Dette and a Drake by their scents, free of the Hijada curse. Though, Bastien… He’d not noticed it before. He scented of Dette and something else, powerful though.
“Uncle Viraj, this is Lyam and Faolan. My little ones.” Bastien beamed and shooed them forward, but they circumnavigated Viraj to run with open arms to Gatlin and Teige.
“Da!” Faolan practically climbed Teige, reaching for hair a similar shade to his own, perhaps a little darker.
“Nae, little one.” Teige laughed, halting as he sniffed the little one with a long draw. “I’m a Stoor, not a Loch.”
“They’re the same thing.” Ryan sniffed as he waved them off and plucked Lyam up to shove into Gatlin’s arms. “But leave it to my ilk to chase the red-haired bastards.”
Gaspard cleared his throat, as blond as any of the Dior, but Viraj was well aware of the head of their den, Felix.
“We do love beautiful rubies.” Ryan fingered Faolan’s hair as he strode by, smiling. “Come, little ones. Pepa and Papa have things to do with Uncle Viraj. Let’s go pester the roosters.”
Viraj watched, eyes wide, as they left him with Bastien and Gaspard. “I’m not certain it’s—Right now? I mean—and Bastien? Should he?”
“Bastien has a capacity for healing far beyond my ability. He’s still in training, but remarkably astute,” Gaspard assured him, and they parted from his brother, his mates, Gaspard and the little ones Viraj so very much wanted to visit with. Little ones made something in his aching heart feel right.
Viraj sighed and reluctantly brought them to his shared chambers, the antechamber to their hoard where there was enough room to shift, their nest behind another door that stayed private—for good reasons. Viraj needed privacy and seclusion.
“I’ve not disclosed the details of your symptoms to Bastien, because you’ve not given permission, but I would like your blessing to do so,” Gaspard said as Viraj unbuttoned his shirt and sat on the edge of a chaise lounge.
“You understand my reluctance. After all, I am the boy’s great uncle and—”
“Behind these walls, I am a physician. I will not refer to you as Uncle. I will call you ‘sir,’ as anyone would respectfully. What you say to me goes no further, and I have no judgment or comment for anything I learn.” Bastien placed a leather monogrammed bag on a gilded console table and gently relocated a few knickknacks to make room for his materials. The most important of which, by his careful movements, was aleather-bound journal that he flipped pages through and poised a pen above the page with a few errant flicks.
“Gaspard can tell you.” Viraj hung his head, not wanting to look at the boy.
“Intense sexual arousal and delirium outside of nesting season, hormonal shifts, inconsistent sexual characteristics, aversion to Dettes and females, and intense attraction to Drakes. Nestblossom helps.” Gaspard tallied off the details Viraj had given him over the years.
“Huh.” Bastien scribbled details down, frowning as he turned to stare at Viraj with a furrowed brow. His nose twitched, mouth open slightly. He resembled the coyote child they’d sent away with Ryan so long ago, undoubtedly his mother, such a rare and strange mixture. He could probably smell far more than a dragon.
“What does ‘huh’ mean?” Viraj gave Bastien a wary glance and earned a pitiable smile in response.
“It means I’m uncertain. Pepa, have you seen him shifted, before?”
Gaspard shook his head.
“Please shift, sir.” Bastien turned his back, and Viraj flinched as Gaspard did the same, allowing him that modicum of privacy.
Viraj stripped his clothes, folding each item of clothing to lay across his lounge, anxious of one feature that even compared to a Dette might bring shame—a lack of endowment. Viraj covered his groin and shifted, scales stretching along his flesh in the most satisfying of ways. Horns sprouted, weight pleasantly grounding his head. Everything about being a dragon felt better than being in human form, and being naked, left nothing to show the world of his shame. Having a micropenis brought him so much shame, and fear that he’d never be able to please a Dette, even if he forced himself for his mates.
Viraj snorted, a sign to let the two turn back around.
Gaspard and Bastien turned back around, faces neutral as they gazed over Viraj’s form. Bastien put on a pair of gloves and approached, waving at Viraj to lower his head as he sniffed his breath and prodded his face, cheeks, temples and opened his bony jaw to inspect a mouth thatprobablywas overdue for a clean. Bastien said nothing, though, despite every one of Viraj’s senses picking up on confusion, frustration, and more through scent and posture, a change in heartbeat.
“Lift your tail, please.” Gaspard spoke by Viraj’s tail, and every alarm bell went off inside Viraj’s head; his dragon in a full-blown panic.
“Calm down. Pepa is going to do that examination. Not me.” Bastien’s soothing words carried a hum of magic in them, and Viraj leaned his head down, resting it against Bastien’s chest while slender arms wrapped around it for a calming embrace.
Unwelcome hands palpated Viraj’s vent the moment his tail lifted. A spit of smoke and a croon of unease escaped his maw, but Bastien only whispered soothing words until Gaspard halted and withdrew with a sudden gesture. “So, Viraj. Have you ever been intimate with a Dette before?”
Viraj shook his head, jostling Bastien.
“Spent any time shifted around Dettes?” Gaspard waited. “Even Ryan?”
