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The tension in Sorin’s shirt went slack. Sebastian must have let him go, but Sorin didn’t notice. Couldn’t bring his eyes to focus. He was lost in his own panic, ears ringing, frozen in place as he looked up at death itself.
Paralyzed as death looked down at him.
His magic whipped itself into a frenzy, the crazed tentacles of a kraken battering a ship at sea.
Blood flowed down Sebastian’s lip.
Sorin could not stop it.
If the dragon did not leave, he was going to die.
But then there came a moment of clarity—a jolt of something that interrupted the cycle, giving Sorin a moment of reprieve. Gasping, he slouched over and curled up on himself, unable to stay upright. If Everard hadn’t been blocking him in, he might have fallen off the bed.
Bertram was pushing his love for Sorin through their mate bond, using it to reach through the darkness and bring Sorin back into the light.
“I’m here,” came Bertram’s voice. His hands found their way to Sorin’s shoulders and lowered him gently onto the bed. Once Sorin was no longer at risk of falling, Bertram gathered him up and held him close, drawing him against his firm chest. Sorin buried his face against it and breathed, and although he could not fully shake his panic, it lessened.
He was safe now.
He was loved.
He was with the one who smelled so much like home.
Everything was going to be okay.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t fend him off,” Bertram said, running his fingers affectionately through Sorin’s hair. “But you needn’t be afraid. The only way he’ll get to you is if he goes through me.”
Sorin melted into Bertram’s touch, answering Bertram’s bond-funneled love with love of his own, but didn’t have time to do or say anything else, for Sebastian interrupted. “Out of the way, brother,” he growled. “Your mate and I have unfinished business. I am not done with him yet.”
“Your business will have to wait,” Bertram shot back. “Come back after our eggs have been laid. There’s but a month left—maybe less. You may speak to him then.”
Through gritted teeth, Sebastian pronounced, “I will speak to him now.”
“Your hostility is a threat to our clutch.” Bertram did not raise his voice, but it became cold and foreboding. “I will not allow my children to be put in danger over a conversation that could happen some other time.”
“Oh?” Sebastian’s voice was just as cold. “And where was this sentiment when you and your mate put the life of my child in danger? I am not going to hold him at knifepoint, brother. Nor will I kill him. Not now. But after all that has happened, I am owed conversation when I want it, where I want it—and I choose here and now.”
Bertram’s muscles clenched like he was preparing for a fight, but even Sorin, in as sorry a state as he was, knew that was not a good idea.
“It’s okay,” he managed to say, pulling back from Bertram’s chest just enough that Bertram could see his face. “I’m not doing great, but I’m doing better now. I can handle this. As long as you stay with me, I should be okay.”
“As a medical professional—but more importantly, as someone who quite enjoys having his blood where it belongs—I cannot say I recommend this,” warned Everard, eyeing the bloody mess on Sebastian’s face with considerable worry.
Sebastian snorted dismissively. Wetly. He wrinkled his brow in confusion, pawed at his nose, and upon discovering that he was leaking, ripped his shirt from his body and used it to sop up the mess.
Everard made a face. “Tissues are a thing that exist, you know. And for heaven’s sake, you carry a handkerchief. Was that really necessary?”
Sebastian ignored him.
Shirt pressed to his nose, he crowded Everard until, with a huff, Everard stepped out of the way.
“Peregrine says I am not to hurt you,” Sebastian said in a loathsome voice as he came to stand in front of Sorin. Sorin, knowing this was his fight, left the safety of Bertram’s arms and sat up, facing the dragon who considered him the enemy. “He has told me your story,” Sebastian continued, “and has explained the reasoning behind why you did what you did, but my heart is not as soft as his. You may never have hurt him directly, but your actions caused him a great amount of suffering and put my family at risk. Had I managed to track you down all those years ago, I would have torn you limb from limb and used your bones to pick my teeth.”
Those same teeth flashed as Sebastian sneered, but the expression didn’t last long. With a shake of his head, he did away with most of his aggression.
Most, but not all.
Dark danger glinted in his eyes.
