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“No, what was it you called Sebastian?”
“What is the matter, koshka? Sebastian is your dragon.”
“No, he’s not.” Perry’s heart began to race. “Misha never pronounces ‘dragon’ that way. Who are you?”
The door flew open, and all Perry had time to do before he was grabbed and dragged inside was scream. So scream he did, as loud as he could, in the hopes that it would be enough to save him.
26
Peregrine
1509
Peregrine screamed as pain twisted inside of him. It tore through his lower abdomen like a blade slicing him from the inside, then radiated as though his guts were being set on fire. No matter how much he struggled or clenched or cried, it never got any better. Worse, he knew it would continue. Over the last two weeks, he’d received treatments identical to these every other day while Everard chased the rot out of him. It was excruciating. But, if he was lucky, this would be the last of it, and he’d never have to feel this way again.
“Settle, Peregrine,” Everard demanded, pushing his hand more firmly into the space below Peregrine’s navel. “Magic is difficult enough—I need you to cooperate and stay as quiet and still as you can, or I can’t guarantee my work.”
“It burns.”
“I would worry if it were to freeze. We are dragons, omega. Fire is in our blood, and that same fire that fuels us is now fixing you from the inside. Do not fight it.”
Peregrine squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, but the pain continued, and it was torture.
“Much better.” Everard moved his hand lower, closer to Peregrine’s groin, and the pain intensified. Peregrine let loose with another cry, yanked a pillow from the bed, and pushed it over his face to muffle the sound.
“We’re almost done,” Everard said, but the pain did not lessen until he took his hand away. “There. Finished. I’ve flushed the new rot. You should expect to bleed, but not severely. If there is pain, you must tell either me or Sebastian right away.”
Exhausted from the procedure, Peregrine pulled the pillow off his face, but otherwise stayed exactly where he was. It was too much to move. Too difficult. Too potentially painful. And while Everard had promised that he’d been made new, Peregrine wouldn’t believe it. Not entirely. Not after the pain he’d just been through.
“Why isn’t he moving?” Sebastian demanded from where he stood at the bedside, his face stoic, but his tense body language anything but. “You’ve hurt him, Everard. You must fix this at once.”
“Hurt him?” Everard squawked. “Surely you’re mistaken, brother. I haven’t hurt him—I’ve healed him. There’s a difference. My magic knits back together the things your claws have destroyed.”
Sebastian growled in the same deep, fierce way he had when Peregrine had been injured. Peregrine cracked his eyes open a sliver just in time to see his dragon rush the doctor and grab him by the front of his tunic, hoisting him onto the tips of his toes.
“My claws were not what did him wrong, brother,” he seethed, smoke escaping from his nostrils. “I would do nothing to harm him, ever. Do not pretend that this was my fault, or I will be forced to pretend that what happens to you was of your own doing. Now, out with you.” With a push, he sent Everard stumbling back. “I must tend to my omega. Alone.”
Everard grumbled something as he smoothed the front of his tunic, but he left without further complaint after Sebastian fixed him with a glare. Once he was gone, Sebastian came to sit on the bedside and gathered Peregrine in his arms like one might a child. Peregrine, of course, was too old for such comforts, but he sighed and relaxed against Sebastian all the same. He was so large, so strong, and so mighty that it was impossible not to feel safe when wrapped in his embrace.
“Are you well, Peregrine?” Sebastian asked. “Do you feel improved?”
Peregrine smiled as charmingly as he could. “I must admit, now that the doctor is gone, I do feel better.”
Sebastian snorted with laughter and nosed his way into Peregrine’s hair. “Strange how that works.”
“Strange indeed.” A beat of silence passed, during which Peregrine made himself comfortable on Sebastian’s lap. Once he was settled, he looked into his dragon’s eyes and asked, “How much longer will it be before I’ve recovered?”
“I know not.”
“And the doctor?”
“He knows even less.” Sebastian kissed the tip of his nose. “But fear not, for you are strong. I have faith you will shake this, Perry. The rot cannot persist forever. Once it clears from your body, you will be well, and we will begin our lives together in earnest.”
“A pretty dream, my lord.”
“It’s no dream. You and I are destined for each other. I know it. The dragon inside of me tells me so.”
How magical it was that a dragon who spoke so little knew all the right things to say. Peregrine cuddled close and let the joy of Sebastian’s love ease the pain in his heart. All would be well. It seemed impossible, but he knew it to be true.
