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Sebastian didn’t like being separated from Peregrine for even an instant, but this was a task that he could not entrust to anyone save himself. It was far too important to leave to a servant.
He reached into the dovecote and grabbed a pigeon, pleased to find it was Nisaba. She was the most reliable of the lot. He took his message, rolled it into a tube, and put it in a small container he fastened to her leg. Sebastian lightly threw Nisaba into the air and she took off, flying east toward Hillah, where his brothers had taken lodging while Alistair poked about in the ruins of Babylon. She would find his brother and he would come.
Peregrine would not die. Sebastian wouldn’t allow it.
* * *
The trouble had begun that night while he and Peregrine lay in their bed. There had been no sound that emanated from his omega, but somehow, Sebastian had still woken up. To his distress, he’d not found Peregrine cuddled up against him, but rather a distance away, where he lay rigidly on his back and shook.
“Love, what is it?” Sebastian lit the fat candle that sat on a table by the bed to see Peregrine more clearly. His omega’s pale skin had bleached to the color of old parchment and looked just as fragile, and his teeth worried at lips nearly as pale. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Silent tears streaked his face.
Alarmed, Sebastian pulled Peregrine into his arms. The movement made Peregrine cry out, sounding like a small, wounded animal. The mattress showed a dark red stain that looked almost black in the candlelight. Peregrine was wet with blood.
“It hurts,” Peregrine moaned. “It hurts so much.”
Labor was supposed to hurt, Sebastian was sure, but the blood… was it normal? He couldn’t be sure, but he had a sinking feeling that it was not.
What was he to do?
He’d hoped for a clutch when Peregrine’s heat had ended prematurely, but not at this kind of cost. Eggs without their father meant nothing to him.
“How can I help you?” he asked, never having felt more helpless in his entire life. He’d foolishly allowed Everard to leave with Alistair and had failed to send for him, even after Peregrine had fallen pregnant, wanting as much time alone with his omega as possible.
Now his avarice would cost him everything. It could very well be too late. If he was right, and this bleeding was abnormal, there was a chance that Peregrine could die.
With Peregrine in his arms, Sebastian walked to the bedroom door, opened it, and bellowed for the servants. Then, leaving the door open, he went into the courtyard and to the pool. Once there, he lowered both himself and Peregrine into the water. Despite the chilly night air, the water was still warm from the day’s unforgiving sun.
Peregrine’s trembling eased.
“Is this any better, love?” Sebastian asked.
“Some,” Peregrine whispered. “The water helps a little. And you. You help. It doesn’t hurt so bad when you hold me. But this can’t be safe. Not for the eggs. You should take me and—”
“Hush,” Sebastian crooned. “Focus on me. Forget all else.”
Peregrine frowned, as if he thought the order impossible to follow. “I’ll try, but—” He broke off speaking and began to scream. Around them, the water in the pool began to take on the color of blood.
I’m going to lose him, Sebastian thought. He’s going to die and already I don’t know how to live without him.
He felt like opening his own mouth in a bellow at the agony of the thought, but that was halted when Sebastian saw several servants hurrying their way. Men and women. Nearly all omegas, but some betas. They chided him in a language he couldn’t understand, but it became evident that they meant for him to bring his ailing omega out of the pool.
Peregrine grasped Sebastian tighter. “They can’t see the eggs. Not one of them can be trusted with the secret.”
Sebastian’s heart felt like it was breaking. “Don’t fret, love. I will speak to the council and right all wrongs. You are more important than keeping the secret safe.”
“But…” Peregrine began, then stopped. Pain racked his features, and he did not pursue the conversation any further than that.
Not having any idea of what the correct path was, Sebastian ended up surrendering to the bullying of the servants. He didn’t like feeling helpless. He didn’t like it one bit. But what was happening to Peregrine wasn’t an alpha problem or even a dragon problem—it was an omega problem, and Sebastian had to hope that the omegas surrounding them would have more of a clue than he did how to fix it.
Sebastian carried Peregrine back into their bedroom. The bedclothes were gone and new ones put in their place. Instead of fine white sheets, the bed was now covered with thick brown blankets. The servants mimed Sebastian laying Peregrine down onto the newly made bed, which he did, noting while he did so that the blankets were soft as down. They had been made from lambswool, he thought, and that of a remarkably fine quality.
Once Peregrine was on the bed again, crying and moaning softly, a few of the servants chattered at Sebastian and pushed him away. A snarl built up inside of Sebastian at the mistreatment, but he held it in. He would be strong, if only for Peregrine’s sake.
While the servants tended to Peregrine, Sebastian went to do the only thing he could think to help—he penned three words on a piece of parchment, then sought the dovecote.
Come at once.
If Everard received the message in time, perhaps Peregrine might be saved.
