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He would find a way to deal with them later.
For now, returning Misha’s eggs and rescuing Reynard were his priorities. Everything else would come in time.
While Bertram continued driving the Vanguard back, he saw in his peripheral vision that Sebastian was fighting, too. His big oaf of a brother was swooping in to knock crowds over and using his breath to set even more things on fire. He worked under a veil of smoke, keeping Bertram from seeing the finer details of what, exactly, he was doing until the wind switched directions just in time for Bertram to see Sebastian swoop down on a group of fleeing omegas and snap one of them up in his jaws.
With a flick of his head, the omega went still, and Sebastian devoured him whole.
Bertram roared in anguish and cut through the air toward Sebastian, but he’d already caught another omega in his jaws and, with a crunch, put him out of his misery. Bertram crashed into him as he swallowed, knocking Sebastian out of the air and sending him plummeting to the ground.
Sebastian caught himself before impact with a few clumsy beats of his wings and glared up at Bertram with narrowed eyes, but his anger was a small price to pay for the lives of the remaining omegas—they’d managed to scatter during the scuffle, and would live to see another day.
Snarling, Sebastian vaulted upward and went straight for Bertram, but Bertram had no time to waste on petty squabbles. Dragon eggs were resistant to fire, but they would be cooked alive if they were left in a burning building… and Sorin, who he knew in his heart was in there with them, wouldn’t have much longer before he, too, succumbed to the flames.
Sebastian lunged for him, not wanting to end the fight so soon, but Bertram dodged and darted off in the direction of the warehouse.
He almost didn’t notice when a third dragon took to the sky.
Reynard rose out of the empty grain silo with the speed and precision of a carefully aimed bullet, then whirled around the burning bunker before cutting a path for Harry, Everard, and Misha. The sight of him was a relief—he never would have left the area without having secured his eggs—but it also sent fear through Bertram that cut deeper than teeth or claws could.
If Reynard had the eggs, then what had become of Sorin?
Had he been injured?
Could he be…
Bertram’s insides lurched, and for a moment, his whole world collapsed in on itself. The night sky became a blur behind the tears in his eyes.
Was he too late?
Overcome with fear, he changed course abruptly and came crashing down on clumsy feet on the other side of the bunker, hoping it would offer him some protection from both rockets and his brother’s claws while he tried to pull himself together.
Surely he’d have felt something if Sorin had died, wouldn’t he?
The bond would have told him.
It would have ripped his soul apart as it was severed, would have gutted him from the inside like an ethereal blade.
Logically, he knew he couldn’t have overlooked pain like that, but when it came to Sorin, not even slipping into Frederich’s cool and emotionally detached headspace could help him see reason. The fact was, Sorin could have been hurt. He could have been killed. He was clever, yes, but Bertram had seen how easily those omegas had disappeared down Sebastian’s gullet.
Reynard could have ended his life just as easily.
And for his eggs, he would have done it without a second thought. Bertram knew it, because if he had been in Reynard’s position, he would have done the same.
But as Bertram fearfully probed inward, exploring the place where the bond resided in his soul, he discovered the bond was whole and as strong as ever.
Sorin was alive.
The relief that crashed through him upon finding it intact was nearly debilitating, but Bertram couldn’t let himself be seized by it. He shut his emotions down as best he could, slipping into Frederich’s uncomfortable mask, and launched himself into the air. He would deal with his emotions later, when tonight’s business was done. For now, Misha and Reynard had to take priority. For Sorin’s sake, and for the Vanguard’s best chance at continued anonymity, he needed to put his family first.
He beat his wings to gain altitude and crossed over the bunker, looking down upon the battleground below. Many of the Vanguard had died, some bloodied by Sebastian’s claws, while others seemed intact, likely having passed from smoke inhalation. A few of the living had fled. He spotted the last of them in the distance, running for shelter.
If Sorin was amongst them, he didn’t make himself known.
With the battle finally over, Bertram landed near Sebastian’s SUV and put his dragon away. Sebastian touched down next to him and did the same, and soon, naked, they faced each other.
There was a bit of blood in Sebastian’s hair.
“Well played, brother,” Sebastian said, grinning viciously in the way he always did when they emerged from a mission unscathed. He held his hand out for Bertram to shake, apparently no longer bothered by the way Bertram had almost knocked him out of the sky, but Bertram hadn’t gotten over it quite yet.
