Obediently, Geoffrey stopped, even though the voice didn’t have Ian’s magical ability to compel.
“You’re leaving him,” Matthieu accused. Not, “You’re leaving us.”
Geoffrey wondered for a second over the omega’s choice of words, then shook his head. It didn’t matter.
“I have to.” Geoffrey spoke softly, not wanting to wake Ian. He walked to the door, and was a bit surprised when the omega rose and followed him. Apparently, he wasn’t done with their conversation. “He understands, Matthieu. You have to realize the danger we’re in. If Bishop were to see me, the repercussions would be devastating. We wouldn’t merely lose each other—we’d lose everything.”
Matthieu shook his head, a pitying expression on his overly pretty face. “Bishop already knows.”
Geoffrey recoiled. “No. We’ve been so careful. He couldn’t—”
“He does,” the omega insisted. “The Attendant servants always know everything, n’est-ce pas? And since he hasn’t gone running toMonseigneur Topazeso far, I have to conclude that he doesn’t intend to use his knowledge against you.”
“I can’t… I still have to go. I need to informMonseigneur Topaze,” Geoffrey grimaced to show Matthieu what he thought of the moniker, “that you’ve been properly bedded, and then take my leave.”
Matthieu snorted. “Oui, I’d say that I’ve been properly bedded.”
That made Geoffrey pause. “Are you… did we… that is to say…” He trailed off, feeling like a proper idiot.
The omega gave him a look that was equal parts smug and amused. “Do not worry,monsieur dragon.Mytrouomega is…” He paused and seemed to consider. “Extensible. Stretchy. Is that the word? But surely you knew this already.”
Geoffrey narrowed his eyes. He had the distinct feeling that Matthieu knew damn well what the correct English words were, but for some reason chose to enact a sort of smokescreen of false omega empty-headedness.
Instead of calling the omega on his deception, Geoffrey said, his tone dry, “I’m delighted your asshole has suffered no ill effects. You are the first omega I’ve had, so I have no experience on which to draw.”
Matthieu reared back, his mouth fallen open in shock. “Not even one?” he whispered. “Exactly how old is your dick,monsieur ancien dragon?”
“I’ve not quite reached my first millennium. I’m not ancient. That’s Ian’s little joke because he’s practically still a whelp.”
“And how old is that?”
“He hasn’t reached two centuries.”
Matthieu nodded. “Oh,oui. Quiteunenfant.” His tone was heavy with sarcasm.
“We aren’t immortal, you know,” Geoffrey replied, not sure why he felt the need to justify either his species or his continued existence. “We do eventually die. There is no dragon that we know of who has lived much past three millennia.”
Matthieu kept on nodding. “Oui, I can see how such a short existence must trouble you.”
Geoffrey scowled. “I need to go. I don’t have the time for pointless arguments.”
A complicated expression crossed Matthieu’s face. First anger, then frustration, then resignation, then nerves, then resignation again. It was quite singular. Geoffrey knew, because the emotions didn’t only cross Matthieu’s face, but bled into Geoffrey’s soul. Why he felt such a strong reaction, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t care to dwell on it. After today, he would not have to worry about how Matthieu felt… or how wrong it struck him to think such a thing.
“Is this goodbye for now,” Matthieu demanded in carefully enunciated French, “or goodbye forever?”
Geoffrey hesitated, then reached up to sweep a thick curl out of Matthieu’s eyes. “Your place is with Ian,” he said.
“So is yours,” Matthieu whispered back. “Do you think I can’t feel it?”
“No.”
A pang of sorrow convinced Geoffrey he was wrong.
“So I’ll see you again, then,monsieur dragon?We’llsee you again?”
There was only one answer to that.
“Yes,” Geoffrey said softly.
