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“I’m sorry, Papa,” said a miserable Piers, much closer than he had been before. Sorin looked up from Bertram’s chest and found him standing an arm’s length away, a handkerchief pressed to his bloody nose. “If I had known the effect it would have on you, I never would have said anything. Grandfather and I thought it would be a kind gesture. We only wanted to make you happy.”
“I know.” Sorin left the comfort of Bertram’s arms to draw Piers into a loose hug. “Don’t think I don’t see the kindness in what you did,” Sorin told him, speaking just above a whisper—just enough so Piers could hear. “You had no idea of the effect it would have on me. You are not to blame.”
“What would you like me to tell Grandfather?” Piers asked in the same near whisper as Sorin. “I’ll pass along whatever message you’d like.”
Sorin’s heart squeezed painfully. “Tell him thank you,” he said, “but that I’m just not ready yet. Not now. If that changes, I’ll let you know, but… there’s a lot I need to unpack before I’ll be ready for that to happen. There’s a lot of trauma there. A lot I need to work through.”
The darkness inside him—that unstable place of fear he tumbled into whenever he lost control—threatened to rear back up, but Sorin refused to let it take hold of him. He tucked himself against Piers and focused on his breathing, pushing through the pain.
It was a little easier this time.
It gave him hope that one day, he wouldn’t need to push at all.
“But let’s not linger on it,” Sorin said, letting go of Piers to step back and look between his sons. Edmund, Waryn, and Owyn had come out from where they’d been sheltering in the garage and now stood a polite distance from their brother, as eager to be with Sorin as he was to be with them. “All of you have taken time out from your lives to be here, and I want to make the most of it. We have so much catching up to do. Your father has told me bits and pieces of all the things you’ve accomplished over the years, but I want to hear your stories from you.”
There was a presence behind him. A stirring in the air. A hand slid comfortably onto his lower back, and when Sorin turned to look, Bertram was there, standing with him, smiling as he looked upon their sons with quiet pride on his face.
What a wonderful father he was.
And what a wonderful partner, too.
Sorin, heart aflutter and light-headed from love, soaked in the sight of his dragon. He couldn’t wait until he saw Bertram look the same way at their new eggs. “Bertram?”
“Yes, love?”
“You asked me if there was anything else I needed to be comfortable in the new house, and I think there is. I know the boys are grown now, but we’re still a family—I want to make sure they have dedicated bedrooms so they can come and go whenever they want. As far as I’m concerned, this is their home, too.”
“Of course.” Bertram chuckled. “You will be delighted to know I have already arranged rooms for each of them. Would you like to go inside and see?”
Sorin did, very much.
And it seemed the boys did, too.
All of them—including Piers—broke out in mischievous grins Sorin recognized from their childhood. Expressions like those were surefire signs they were up to no good.
“What’s going on?” Bertram asked, having noticed the same thing.
“Nothing,” piped Owyn.
“We didn’t do anything,” supplied Edmund at the same time.
Not to be outdone, Waryn added, “We definitely didn’t pool our resources together to fill your empty hoard.”
Piers playfully rolled his eyes. “Waryn, this is why you were always the one who got punished when all of us were up to no good.”
Waryn glowered at Piers, then stuck his tongue out and hightailed it into the garage. His brothers followed, laughing, and even Piers, the serious agent he’d been brought up to be, let loose and gave chase.
It was like they were whelps again.
His boys.
“We should go after them before they end up breaking something,” Sorin remarked with no real intention to get moving. He slid his hand into Bertram’s back pocket.
“We should,” Bertram agreed, but made no move to guide Sorin into the house. Instead, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of Sorin’s head. “Whelps at heart, all of them. I’m glad we made the decision to return—I haven’t seen them like this in ages.”
Sorin smiled. “I’m glad, too.”
At last, they began to walk.
