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any exception.”
Finch’s face went bright red. “Sir, you must already be under the influence of my scent. Please,
leave. Everyone is waiting for you downstairs. You’ve wanted for so long to find your mate,
and she’s finally within your reach. Besides, if you don’t act soon, your sanctioned period to
produce a clutch will end, and—”
“And it’s of no matter.” Hugh leaned down to kiss Finch’s forehead. The scent of him grew
stronger and more delicious by the second, and while Hugh became progressively more
aroused, he was determined to stay the course. He would be strong for Finch. “What kind of a
dragon would I be if I didn’t give my all to protect and cherish that which I already hold dear?
You are more important than a ball, Finch. More important than any Disgrace. More important
than a clutch. None of that means half as much to me as you do. If you want me, I’ll give myself
to you wholly and without a single regret. For as long as you shall live, I will never take a mate.
You are the only one for me.”
Tears glistened in Finch’s eyes. “You’re certain?”
“Very.”
“Then I will be your treasure, sir.” Finch squeezed his hand gently, and Hugh’s heart soared.
“I’ll be yours in body and spirit for as long as my short life will last, and I’ll do everything in my
power to make you as happy as you make me.”
Hugh had never felt such a rush. Knowing Finch was his, even if they would never be mates,
brought him even greater joy than when he’d finally fished that coin out from the stream behind
Drake Manor. He couldn’t help himself—he had to ask. “May I kiss you, Finch?”
But he needn’t have said a word, because Finch had already tangled his fingers in Hugh’s hair
and upon hearing the question, kissed Hugh like no secretary ever should.
Finch
Hugh tasted every bit as sweet as Finch knew he would. At the same time, he was wilder than
Finch had expected. Perhaps it was his dragon, or perhaps it was a part of Hugh he’d
heretofore only seen in small flashes. Finch tended to think that Hugh was like he acted—a
pure innocent. Logic screamed that couldn’t be the case. He was over nine hundred years old
and had taken the heats of countless omegas. Finch, on the other hand, only had his training.
Despite being in his late thirties, he was coming to Hugh’s bed—or rather his own bed—as
