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Another log would need to be added soon.
Grimbold had not been expecting Bertram, but he did not seem alarmed by his sudden presence in the room. He gestured at one of the nearby chairs, and Bertram took him up on his invitation, coming to sit.
There was much they had to talk about, and none of it good.
“It took you long enough, child,” Grimbold remarked. “I was expecting you’d come to see me sooner. Have you been well? Word has it your mate is with clutch. You’re fortunate that sanctions are no longer needed—I’m not sure even I could have talked the council out of punitive action after you up and vanished.”
“I know.” Bertram folded his hands on his lap, still not finding the courage to look at his father. “We are incredibly fortunate, and we do not take our luck for granted. We appreciate the kindness you have shown us, allowing us back into Amethyst territory. It was well within your right to forbid us from ever setting foot here again.”
Grimbold grunted with laughter. “You speak as though you are not my son.”
“For a while, I thought I might not have been.”
“Then you thought wrong.” Grimbold sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “I am an old dragon, child. I have witnessed cities crumble, seen boys grow into men and die, been there to watch the advent of every modern marvel, but through it all, not once did I stop to think that it might be time that I should change, too. It wasn’t until recently that I realized the way I was raised is not the way you deserve to have been raised. I am not saying I am not displeased about what you’ve done, but rather that I see myself as complicit in your crimes. Had I been willing to grow, had I been willing to listen, none of this would have come about. I have spoken quite extensively with Sebastian on this matter, and both he and I agree that we have not been fair to you.”
“You spoke with Sebastian?” Bertram asked uneasily.
“Yes. Or, rather, he came to speak with me. Many times.” Grimbold paused. “He is much like me—set in his ways and stubborn. More than any of your brothers, he has struggled with the truth. These wounds aren’t ones that will heal easily, but what matters is, they will heal. I have no intention of revealing your treachery to the council, Bertram. The Pedigree has been liberated, and what’s left unresolved is a family matter. If you are ready to come home, all of us are ready to welcome you.”
Home.
For most of Bertram’s life, that had meant inns or hotel rooms. He’d had a lair in Aurora before he’d liquidated his assets and fled overseas, but it had been symbolic at best—a place he stayed at sometimes when he had downtime between missions. An empty, rather somber place like Castle Beithir had been before Sorin had come to live there. A roof and four walls, but nothing he had ever placed great emotional value in.
But home now meant something different.
Home now meant family, not just a place to call his own.
“I’m ready,” Bertram said. “And I truly am sorry for what I put you through. I do not hold myself blameless for what happened, and even should it take the rest of my life, I will endeavor to make things right.”
“I know you will,” Grimbold said, and gave Bertram a rare smile. “I would expect nothing less from a Drake. Which, speaking of—you never answered my question. Have you been well? And what news of your unborn clutch? Everard tells me you are expecting another four eggs. That mate of yours will be giving Peregrine a run for his money soon.”
The heaviness of the conversation lifted. Smiling, Bertram told his father the good news—the eggs were here, and he would be thrilled to have Grimbold over to meet them. Perhaps they could even make an event of it, and invite the whole family.
It would take time to bridge the gap between them, but the way Grimbold’s smile brightened at the idea made Bertram feel as though the groundwork had been set in place.
Epilogue
Sorin
Eight omegas sat around the long and rather ornate table in the dining room of Sorin’s new home. Well, seven omegas and one omega-beta, to be precise. Sorin didn’t quite understand the specifics behind Harry’s transformation, but he didn’t question it.
People changed.
He knew it all too well.
In any case, those seven or eight omegas had gathered for a very special reason. The Dragonet Club was meeting for the first time not just as friends, but as the chairmen of a new council. It had taken a little finagling—and some solid legal work on Matthieu’s part—over the course of the last year, but finally, it was official.
The Vanguard was back.
Well, parts of it, at least.
Down the table, someone cleared their throat. All idle chitchat stopped at once, and everyone turned their head to look in the direction of the noise, including Genesis, who was coiled protectively around the four eggs at the center of the table. She wore a little cowboy hat. It was a perfect match to Steve’s, who was draped over Harry’s shoulders like a scarf, napping. His tiny legs, the backmost of which were clad in assless chaps, twitched every now and then.
It was exceptionally cute.
“Uh… hear ye, hear ye,” said the person who’d cleared his throat. It was Nate, who looked as exhausted as he did round. His pregnancy had not been kind to him, and he hadn’t been getting much sleep, but otherwise he was in good spirits. The downsides of a long gestation far outweighed the stress of dealing with whelps—or at least, so he claimed. “I hereby bring this meeting of the Vanguard to order. I’d like to begin by opening the floor to…” Nate squinted at each of the omegas around the table before setting his sights on Sorin. “Mm, you look prepared. Sorin, why don’t you start us off?”
Sorin was, indeed, prepared. It felt like he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life. While all eyes in the room watched, he opened the binder laid out in front of him and flipped through the first few pages, navigating to his curated list of discussion topics. It was more symbolic than anything—he had spent so much time perfecting his work, he had it memorized.
