Once, years ago, Ian had heard tales of Snorre Jormun. While some claimed that Snorre was insane, others insisted he was sound of mind and had merely given up trying to maintain appearances. By all accounts, he was a lecherous old dragon who caused trouble wherever he went, whether it was pissing in the Imperial Garden or being found naked and unconscious in the council room after a night of self-indulgent debauchery.
It both surprised Ian and didn’t surprise him in the least to discover that Snorre, despite his advanced age, was not only in decent shape, but was strikingly attractive.
“Geoffrey, Matthieu, come here,” Ian ordered quietly, exerting a small amount of magic into his request. Geoffrey obeyed immediately, but Matthieu took an extra moment to glare at Snorre before he made his way to Ian’s side. If Matthieu had been capable of producing flame, it would have been pouring out from the corners of his lips. “Mr. Jormun, allow me to introduce myself. I am Ian Brand, legal counsel for—”
Snorre lifted a finger, stopping Ian mid-sentence. “Ian? Wonderful. Very nice to meet you. Can you give us a second?”
Ian blinked. For the first time in what felt a long time, he wasn’t sure what, if anything, to say.
“Are you upset,älskling?” Snorre asked. He passed Ian, Geoffrey, and Matthieu and came to stand by Erik, who’d crossed his arms over his chest. “You seem upset. Let Da—”
“No,” Erik said briskly. “No, no,no.Snorre, these are the representatives for the Amethyst and Topaz clans. We arenotdoing this now.”
“Erik,” Snorre warned. “After what happened this morning, I will not tolerate you mouthing off to me. You will be nice, and you will respect me, or there will be consequences. Is that understood?”
Erik’s hand found its way back to his face. No matter how far he spread his fingers, he couldn’t hide his bright red cheeks. “Yes, Daddy.”
Fifteen fully grown dragons could have performed a choreographed tap-dancing routine complete with shiny top hats outside the study window and Ian never would have noticed. He stared first at Snorre, then at Erik, until he finally gathered his wits enough to ask a single, hesitant question. “Daddy?”
Geoffrey was less eloquent—he choked on his words. “Erik, did you sayDaddy?”
Matthieu grumbled something in French that Ian couldn’t make out, then asked in English, “This pervert is your father?”
“God,” Erik muttered. He kept his face covered, his cheeks scarlet. “I cannot believe this is happening. What do you want to keep this quiet? Gold? Power? Indentured servitude? A Swiss chalet? There aren’t any laws that I’m aware of that would prohibit you from telling everyone about this, so—”
With fluidity that belied his age, Snorre crossed the room and drew Erik into his arms. He kissed the top of Erik’s head, and with a sigh, Erik melted onto his chest. The tap-dancing dragons followed up their routine with a speaker-destroying death metal concert, and Ian failed to hear a single note. He, like Geoffrey, gaped at the flagrant display before them.
Dragons did not consort with other dragons.
Ever.
For the last hundred years, Ian had hidden his relationship with Geoffrey—the consequences of entertaining a forbidden love were too steep to risk exposure. Yet here, now, he watched Snorre lock Erik in his arms and hold him close the same way Ian longed to do with Geoffrey. The affection between them seemed so tender and sincere that it couldn’t have been an act.
Snorre and Erik were involved, and neither man was hiding it.
“There you go again, fearing the worst,” Snorre scolded softly. His lips brushed the top of Erik’s head as he spoke. Ian’s heart twisted so thin, it threatened to snap. All his life, he’d fought his attraction. For the last hundred years, he’d been forced to hide the one man he wanted to show off more than all the treasure in his hoard like he was a dirty secret instead of a show-stopping jewel. Seeing Snorre treat Erik with such unapologetic love made Ian want to weep both with joy and punch through a wall with furious frustration.
Why couldn’t that be him and Geoff?
What he wouldn’t have given one hundred, fifty, even five years ago to have been able to kiss his lover without anyone blinking an eye, or to decorate him in the finest jewelry he could afford.
“You don’t need to offer those dragons anything for their silence.” Snorre rocked Erik back and forth, but even as he did, his gaze darted over to Ian, and he smirked. “They’re in no position to rat us out.”
“Why?” Erik asked, so relaxed, it almost sounded like he’d just woken up from a long and restful sleep.
Snorre winked. “Because they’re mated just like we are,älskling. And, quite frankly, to do so would be rude.”
19
Geoffrey
Erik let out a surprised gasp. “That’s not possible.”
“And why not,yngling? Have you forgotten about the mark you carry upon your own delectable ass? Should I spank you until you remember?”
“No, Daddy,” said flaming-red Erik.
Geoffrey's mouth fell open. He was absolutely speechless.
