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carved not to reflect, but to improve modern sensibilities. With its fine purple sheets and
exquisitely soft blankets, it would be a marvel not only to look at, but also to touch. Comfort
was important. Hugh would spare no expense when it came to his wytad’s wellbeing.
And how it made his heart sing to think that his wytad was Finch.
He would look stunning framed by dark Drake purple, curled around their eggs while they
bathed in soft morning sunlight. Hugh imagined the way the light would play in his dark hair
and soak into his skin to set him aglow. The eggs they made would be every bit as stunning,
Amethyst gems in motley shades, the most important jewels of his life. Hugh would protect
them always, and knew Finch would do the same.
What an amazing father his Finch would be.
Enamored with the thought of a lifetime with him, Hugh indulged in a wistful sigh before
redirecting his focus to the task at hand. If he was to secure an egg bed before his clutch
arrived, he’d need to get it ordered now. But from where? He’d need to get in touch with
Sebastian, who’d commissioned one for his newest clutch not all that long ago. Surely he
would know.
Now, where was his phone?
Hugh hurried out of the room to find it. Or at least, he tried. One second he was making haste
toward the door and the next he’d fallen on his face. The floor, wet with oil, had become a
slippery deathtrap. Hugh, now facedown in it, had become its first victim.
“Finch!” he cried out instinctively while he flopped across the floor, trying—and failing—to rise
onto his knees. “Help!”
Neither Finch nor help arrived. Hugh—poor oil-covered Hugh—was on his own.
Never one to give up easily, Hugh tried a few more times to lift himself onto his knees, but the
second he put any pressure on his palms, his arms shot out from beneath him. After falling on
his face a few too many times, he concluded there was only one way out of this. He rolled onto
his back so he could unbutton his shirt.
“Sir?” Bella asked timidly when he was two buttons from sweet freedom. “What—” She gasped,
sounding absolutely scandalized.
“Bella!” Hugh ripped his shirt open and flipped onto his chest to try to get a look at her. “I’ve
never been so slippery. Send Finch!”
