Matthieu shrugged, and was happy he’d been allowed to, if confused by the how of it. “If you figure it out, you can let me know,mes terribles dragons.”
Geoffrey turned his head as much as he was able and said, “Yourdragons?”
Matthieu shrugged again, then undid a few more buttons. Either Matthieu had found a way around the strange trap Ian had snared him in, or Ian had loosened its grip. “It appears so. You two are a package deal,non?”
Geoffrey and Ian exchanged uneasy looks that conveyed their relationship far better than words were able. How these two had hidden their relationship for as long as they had was a mystery to Matthieu.
Ian frowned. “Uh…”
“I’m not permanent here, and I don’t think I’ll become anyone’s mate.” Matthieu undid the next button. “Not when you two are in love.”
Ian looked, for the first time, panicked. “What are you saying, Matthieu?
It was a good question, and while Matthieu knew the answer, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was making a mistake. What he planned would be a charitable act—something he could feel good about years later, when he was a successful attorney, and Ian and Geoffrey were legally recognized as a couple thanks to Matthieu’s persistence.
Right now, whether he liked it or not,hewas the problem, and since no one knew him better than himself, Matthieu suggested the obvious solution. If there was to be no running from the draconian society enforcing this “experiment,” then they would have to twist the rules to work in their favor until the experiment’s natural conclusion.
Steeling himself for what was to come, Matthieu shared his idea. It was the best—and only—one he had.
“Partagez-moi.”
Share me.
5
Ian
“No.” Ian and Geoffrey spoke at the same time, the foreboding tone of Geoffrey’s voice reinforced by the steel in Ian’s.
“Absolutely not,” Geoffrey added, glancing at Ian with what seemed to be both reluctance and fear.
“It won’t be necessary,” Ian agreed. “In a few hours’ time, we’ll be on the road, and then—”
“We willnot,” Geoffrey insisted hotly—quite literally so. Flames licked from the corners of his mouth, curling upward in fits and bursts like a chancy handlebar mustache. The flames blinked out of existence, leaving behind a wisp of irritated smoke. “Ian, we arenotrunning anywhere.”
Ian’s chest clenched, and his hands did the same in solidarity. “Geoff.”
“Do not use that tone with me,” Geoffrey hissed.
Matthieu, who Ian had temporarily forgotten was still in the room, let out a heavy sigh. Ian looked his way in time to witness him drop his shirt on the floor. It pooled over Matthieu’s shoe, and he kicked it aside like it was a dust bunny he wanted to nudge back under the sofa. Seemingly unperturbed by the argument unraveling before him, Matthieu slid his hands down his narrow torso and undid the belt holding his pants in place.
Ian swallowed and looked away. Geoffrey glared at him.
“There is no need for anger,” Matthieu said. A note rang in his voice that softened his words and wrapped them like a warm blanket around Ian’s mind. Geoffrey’s scowl wavered. He looked at Matthieu, then looked away quickly. As he did, Matthieu undid the button of his fly and let his pants fall to the floor. All he wore beneath was a small black thong that Ian was sure the Pedigree cloister he belonged to had designed uniquely for this moment—the way it clung to his hips and… other… body parts was too perfect not to have been intentional. “En fait,you should be celebrating.Nous avons une solution.”
“And what kind of solution do we have?” Geoffrey demanded. He turned to face Matthieu in full, keeping his eyes locked on the omega’s. “If we don’t run—which wewill not,because we are men, not prepubescent whelps—”
“Debatable,” Matthieu murmured under his breath.
Ian fought a grin.
“—then there is no other choice. Ian will need to breed you. I will not. If I know Sigric Brand the way I know I do, my word that Ian has taken you will not be enough—he’ll need concrete physical confirmation for himself.”
“God.” Ian winced. Thinking about his father investigating his recently bred omega’s most intimate places was not a savory image.
“Is he a biologist?” Matthieu inquired. He traced his fingers over the elastic of his thong, catching one side with his thumb to tease it downward. “A geneticist with a home laboratory,par chance?”
“No.” Geoffrey bristled.
