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It was checkmate.
Bertram had lost the game.
20
Sorin
The lock on the hotel room door whirr-clicked! right as the pinprick of blood on Sorin’s finger quivered and sluggishly began to rise, stretching upward like a cobra charmed out of a basket. Sorin, spooked by the noise, lost focus, and the tendril of blood collapsed.
He did not try to tease it back up again.
Instead, heart racing, he popped up onto his feet. Bertram had gone to a family function and wasn’t due to return for another hour, and housekeeping never came at this time of day. Which meant…
Sorin’s entire body went rigid with fear.
Had an agent tracked him here?
He didn’t want to have to kill another dragon, but if it came down to it, he would do whatever he had to in order to survive.
Shaking, Sorin forced himself to focus and found the well of magic inside himself, just like Bertram had taught him to do over the course of the last few months. Much like his mate bond, it occupied a unique space inside his soul, but unlike the bond, which was an unchanging golden thread connecting him to his dragon, his magic was fluid. He could tap into the reserve inside himself and dole it out slowly, or in emergencies he could dump it all at once, but no matter how quickly he used it, one thing remained the same—it was finite. Once it was gone, it was gone, and it took a considerable amount of time for it to come back.
Sorin dipped into that reserve now, preparing himself for whatever was about to happen. He didn’t know how much of his magic he’d need to kill a dragon, but he was certain there was enough of it in him to at least severely injure one even though he’d used quite a bit this morning while he practiced.
“Stay back,” he warned, putting a bit of a growl into his voice as the door began to open. “I won’t hesitate to kill you if you come in here.”
The person on the other side of the door was unperturbed by his threat, and the door swung the rest of the way open. Sorin gritted his teeth and broadened his stance, readying himself for the fight of his life, only to have the metaphorical rug yanked out from beneath his feet.
“It’s me, love,” said Bertram as he entered the room. “There is no need for alarm. You are safe. I am alone.”
Sorin’s shoulders slumped. “I almost unleashed my magic on you,” he grumbled, but his temper quickly melted away as Bertram shucked off his suit jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt, exposing a tempting amount of his chest. “You’re home early. Did something happen?”
“Aye.”
“Are you okay?”
Bertram looked up from taking off his shoes and fixed his gaze on Sorin, true gentleness in his eyes. “You have no idea what it means to me that you’d ask,” he said, smiling in a way that told Sorin no, he was not okay at all.
“What happened?” Sorin asked, coming over to join him. He laid a hand tenderly on Bertram’s arm, and Bertram—his strong and unflappable dragon—seemed to break a little. He brought Sorin closer to him and rested his chin on the top of Sorin’s head, nosing into his hair.
“Father had words with me,” he murmured. “Not good ones, I’m afraid. He is displeased I’ve yet to capture you, and has issued me an ultimatum—either I bring you to him before year’s end, or he will relieve me of my position and appoint a new agent to take my place.”
“Isn’t that good news?” Sorin asked. “If you’re let go from your position, you won’t be sent away on missions anymore, and now that I’m getting a handle on my magic, we can finally be together. We’ll get to make up for all the time we’ve had to spend apart.”
Bertram laughed soundlessly—humorlessly—into Sorin’s hair. “I wish it were that simple, love, but it’s not. I am the sole agent tasked with tracking you down and bringing you to justice, and should I be let go, another will take my place—one who will not rest until you have been caught. You will have to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder and watching your every step, never certain if you are safe, or if he will find you, and that is no way to live. But what other option do we have? We are being backed into a corner, and there is no way out. They will have you one way or another. I thought I could keep you safe, but I have failed.”
“Don’t say that.” Sorin looped his arms delicately around Bertram’s waist in a loose hug. “I know things look bleak right now, but it’s not the first time we’ve been in a situation like this, and they haven’t bested us yet. We’ll get it figured out.”
“No,” Bertram whispered brokenly. “I don’t think we will.”
The sorrow in Bertram’s voice was almost too much to bear. Feeling defeated, Sorin closed his eyes and rested his head on Bertram’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. At one time, he had been convinced he would never hear it again, and yet here they were, alive and well despite it all.
It couldn’t really be the end, could it?
There had to be hope for them yet.
“It’s not over for us,” Sorin said quietly, sharing reassuring feelings through their bond. “It can’t be. We might not like the solution we come up with, but anything is better than giving up and accepting death. What if…” He paused. “The council still believes I’m just some omega, right? A human with a normal human lifespan? Maybe all this means is that I have to lie low for another fifty years. When they think I’m either dead or too old to cause any trouble, they’ll forget about me, and we can start again. I’ll come out of hiding, and we’ll spend the rest of our lives together. We’ve already lived apart for hundreds of years—I won’t like it, but I can survive another few decades alone as long as I know at the end, I’ll be with you.”
“I considered it,” Bertram admitted. He pulled back from Sorin and took him by the hand, guiding him to the bed. “But Sebastian has seen your face, and even a hundred years from now, I doubt he’ll have forgotten it. Not after what happened. He will remember, and he will tear the world apart until he finds you and avenges his mate.”
