Bella gasped, all the more scandalized. All Hugh caught was a swish of her skirts as she raced
away from the room. Curiously, she ran in the opposite direction of Finch’s office. Perhaps she
had it on good authority where the man was hiding. In any case, while he waited for rescue,
Hugh resumed what he’d been doing—attempting to save himself. He balled his discarded
shirt and swabbed it over the floor, hoping it would suck up the oil, and it did. To a point. The
problem was that there was much more floor than there was shirt, and Hugh still had a long
way to go before he made it to the door.
“Bugger.” Hugh pitched the shirt across the room and was moments away from stripping out
of his pants and repeating the process when an idea struck. Inspired, he lay chest-down in the
oil slick and invited his dragon out to play. Dark purple scales tumbled down his spine and over
his shoulders. While they did, his bones creaked and complained as his musculoskeletal
system changed to accommodate his wings. Once they were present, he flexed them to warm
them up. Then, with a few mighty flaps, he glided through the oil like a reptilian pontoon boat.
Hugh reached the door before Bella returned with help, which was just as well. Even outside
the deathtrap that was their future nesting room, Hugh found it difficult to stand. In the end he
had to remove his shoes and socks to get purchase on the floor. Shirtless, barefooted, and
glistening with oil, he walked to his room in silence and spent the evening in the shower. Dinner
was served late that night for shower-related reasons. Hugh, hair still wet, descended into the
dining room and discovered the table had been set for one.
“Did Finch eat already?” he asked when a skittish Bella brought out his meal.
She shook her head and set his plate before him, then scurried away.
“Will you send for him?” Hugh called after her.
He could only assume by her squeak that she would.
Hugh waited a few minutes for Finch to appear. When he didn’t, a despondent Hugh ate dinner
alone and returned to his room to wait for Finch to come home.
* * *
Hours passed. Close to midnight, Hugh ventured from his chamber to see if Finch had gone
to sleep in his own bed. It would be unusual in the extreme, seeing as how they’d been
cohabiting since Finch’s heat, but Hugh could think of no other explanation for Finch’s bizarre
absence.