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Peregrine looped his arm into Sebastian’s and leaned in toward him by a degree. To his delight, Sebastian didn’t pull away or ask him to leave—he tucked Peregrine’s arm closer to him and stood proudly at his side. “He may conduct himself as he wishes, for he is my mate.”
Peregrine hadn’t thought it possible for Everard to look any more like a fish, but his wide eyes really completed the look. “I beg your pardon?”
“Peregrine,” Sebastian pronounced, “is my mate.”
“Are you in need of medical attention, Sebastian? Did you hit your head when I wasn’t looking?” Everard narrowed his eyes, thank goodness. Fish was not a good look. “Mates are so rare, they might as well not exist, and to find your mate in a Disgrace is—”
“Silence,” Sebastian boomed. “He is my mate.”
“Sebastian, really. Where is the proof? You can certainly say what you like—no one can stop you from doing so—but saying something doesn’t make it true.”
Smoke poured from Sebastian’s nostrils, and his skin grew hot to the touch. Peregrine looked up at him, afraid he’d misjudged and made things worse, but rather than attack, Sebastian stayed still and held Peregrine close. “You can talk down to me all you’d like, Everard,” he said, “but I know it to be true. I feel it in my bones and to the very depth of my soul. Peregrine was made for me, and I will keep him forever.”
Everard clicked his tongue. “Delusional, you and Al both. Until there is evidence, do you think anyone will believe you?”
“I don’t care for the opinions of others.”
Everard gave him a lengthy look. “Perhaps you should.”
Sebastian snorted, expelling a cloud of smoke. “Are you quite done?”
“I should think so, unless you have other ludicrous notions to declare.”
“I have none.”
“Brilliant. Then I’ve officially said my piece. I’ll be at the inn should you need me. If you wouldn’t mind speaking to Alistair in the meantime, it would be appreciated.”
Sebastian nodded. “I shall.”
“Good.” Everard turned his attention to Peregrine. “Should you experience further pain, be sure to speak up and let us know.”
“I will,” Peregrine said with a nod.
“Well, I shall take my leave, then. Farewell, brother.” Everard bowed his head. “May your journey for a mate bond prove less eventful than this disaster of a trip.”
That said, Everard left.
“Is he always like that?” Peregrine asked once he was gone.
Sebastian’s expression stayed flat, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “Sometimes he’s much worse.”
“Will he come to accept me one day?”
“He already has, my love. He would not act so much like himself if not.”
“Oh.” Peregrine chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Well, was it right for me to have interrupted? I wasn’t sure, but it seemed the best way to protect you from an otherwise avoidable argument.”
Sebastian kissed the top of his head. “It was fine.”
“I’m relieved. I wasn’t sure. I came to tell you the bleeding had stopped and the tissue has been passed.”
Sebastian paused. “In earnest? It wasn’t something said to get Everard to leave?”
“Yes, my lord. I’ve stopped bleeding in earnest, and I am well. Better than I’ve been in ages.”
“Well, then.” Sebastian let go of Peregrine and scooped him into his arms. It was as much a thrill now as the first time he’d done it out on the streets of Ljouwert, causing Peregrine to gasp and lock his arms around Sebastian’s neck as pleasure rushed through him. “I believe there’s somewhere you and I should be.”
The somewhere was the bedroom.
