Having discovered what had happened to his favorite herpetologist, Ian looked back at his children and marveled anew. The twins weren’t Topaz or Amethyst—they were, somehow, both. One had an apricot snoot that shaded into violet as it reached his tail. The other’s muzzle was a deep burgundy that blended into brightest copper. They were beautiful, and unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Both went right to Matthieu and climbed onto their omega papa, each one sitting on a shoulder and looking around themselves imperiously.
When the final baby was in his parents’ arms, the ring of juvenile dragons flapped their wings, chirped, and jumped on the spot. Chaucer shot a tiny jet of flame into the air. Julius found Darwin, and the two butted heads. Nikita, Dmitry, and several of Perry and Sebastian’s whelps roughhoused. Madhav, who was small and timid, made his way to Snorre and scaled his leg. Snorre lifted him up and spun him around, then held Madhav to his bare, silver-haired chest and laughed. “Well done, children!”
“The babies did do a good job, didn’t they, Grandpa Snorre?” Harry smiled. “Well done indeed! Matthieu, by visual examination alone, I can see that all of your children are happy and healthy. Congratulations! Maybe Ruby eggs don’t need as much time to incubate. But then, what about Iggy? Hmm. It seems I have more research to do. How exciting!”
Steve, who’d watched the hatching in silence, flicked his tongue. Science, it seemed, excited him, too.
“Congratulations to our new fathers,” Everard declared. “Geoffrey, Ian, and Matthieu, may your hoard be vast, and your whelps happy.”
Around the room, others joined in on the toast, echoing Everard’s words. Ian sat back and let it all soak in.
Here, on what had once been hostile grounds, he’d found a way to make life work with the man he loved, but whom he was never supposed to have. Months ago, Ian had become a Drake on paper, but now he felt the change in his heart.
“I love you,” Ian whispered to Geoffrey and Matthieu, without whom he would have led a sad and sorry life. “I love you so much. My mates, my loves,mes raisons d'être.”
“And I, you,” Geoffrey vowed.
“Andus,you,” Matthieu corrected.
Six beautiful cords rang in harmony through their bonds, sounding their agreement.
With a laugh that masked a cry of joy, Ian tugged Geoffrey and Matthieu down into the nest with him, and they lay like that for a while together, their hatchlings roaming freely over their bodies and burrowing beneath the donated vestments. Elsewhere in the room, the music resumed, conversation picked back up, and laughter filled the spaces in between. Life didn’t simply go on—it progressed. And Ian, who once would have rather run than fought, vowed to help it, not only for himself, but for the eight dragons who owned his heart, and for his newfound family, who loved him scales and all.
Epilogue
Matthieu
“That’s the last one,” Ian said, sounding both tired and pleased. He started the ignition in the Pininfarina Sergio Geoffrey had bought him only a month ago. It was bright, screaming yellow, and Ian adored it.
Matthieu was less sure of the vehicle. Even though he knew Ian drove carefully with him inside, he still made sure his safety harness was securely fastened. He held onto the peacock in his lap tightly. Luckily, Lucian tolerated his over-firm grip. He really was the best traveling bird.
“The last Topaz cloister,” Matthieu murmured. It had been hard, but worthwhile work, initiating the end of the Pedigree. The first clan to abolish cloisters had been the Amethyst clan, and the Opals had been right after them. Despite opposition from the dwindling rebellion, Ian had succeeded in corralling the Topaz clan into doing the same. Now they would need to convince the rest of the clans to follow their example. Old habits died hard, and some clans, most notably the Onyx, resisted changing the old ways.
“I know, Matthieu, but it’s only a matter of time until they are all a relic of the past.”
“Honk,” Lucian agreed. Ian rewarded the bird with a raisin. Eager for more, Lucian honked again, but Ian was wise to his game, and he offered no more.
Matthieu still struggled with the concept of nearly infinite time. He was three decades old, which was the blink of an eye to a dragon. Even Ian, who was considered to be barely more than an adolescent to most dragons, was five times his age. It was hard to convince dragons that while they literally had all the time in the world, the omegas trapped in cloisters did not. But still, Matthieu contented himself with the progress being made. He would not stop until he’d convinced the entire council to abolish cloisters completely.
Matthieu grunted, then smiled when Ian’s hand came to rest on his knee.
“Kitten, have you made up your mind?”
Matthieu had no trouble following Ian’s change of subject, because it was a topic the three had often discussed, to no concrete conclusion, over the past six months. At the end of the semester, Matthieu would have his degree in philosophy and would need to choose a law school. His LSAT score had been very high, and several university deans had contacted him personally to try and woo him into enrolling with their institutions.
Matthieu nodded. “Oui, monsieur dragon persistant.”
“And are you going to share that knowledge?”
Matthieu waited a few moments, then said, “Oui.”
“When?” asked Ian, starting to sound impatient. “Today?”
“Perhaps.”
“Now?” Ian didn’t even try to keep the wheedle out of his voice.
Matthieu laughed. “Non. But soon. When we are all together as a family.”
