Matthieu swallowed down his irritation and spoke. “I am Matthieu Boudreaux, son of Alexandre Boudreaux.” Geoffrey looked at Matthieu in surprise. Disgraces never mentioned their dragon sires. It just wasn't done.
Well, maybe that should change,came a thought, and Geoffrey knew from the compulsion behind it that it was Ian's and not his or Matthieu's.
“Well met, boys. Take a seat. There's a nice couch behind you that'll do if you don't mind being cozy, and I'm fairly sure that's not a problem for you three. Now, let me introduce my family. You already know Erik. Next to him is Yinju and our daughter, Genji. And no, poppet, the dragons aren’t here to take you to the Pedigree. I promise.”
“Yes, Papa,” Genji said, not sounding entirely convinced that head kicking wouldn’t be necessary.
“And next to them is Aruna and our son, Madhav.” Aruna was a lovely woman with warm brown skin, large dark eyes, and a sweet, smiling mouth. Her hair hung down in a long braid that looked like it might trail the floor when she walked. It was threaded with dark green ribbons that matched the silk of her sari. In her lap she held an egg that was an iridescent milky green.
“We are pleased to meet you,” she said. “Madhav wishes he could greet you personally, but he still has several weeks to go before he hatches.”
Geoffrey felt a pulse of emotion from Matthieu. At first, he had a hard time placing it, but then he realized it was a combination of wonder, longing, envy, and chagrin. It reminded him in subtle ways of how he’d felt holding Darwin when Everard and Harrison had come to visit, and also of the strange fixation on the egg-shaped stain on the silk fabric in his parlor.
All this time, had his fixation been borrowed through the mate bond from Matthieu?
He reached for Matthieu’s hand and squeezed it, then glanced over to see Ian had taken the omega’s other hand and held it with their fingers entwined. Another pulse of emotion hit Geoffrey—desire, reassurance, and pure lust—that was from Ian. It was a bit disorienting, but Geoffrey felt, on the whole, that he liked the intimacy. Perhaps Matthieu was acting a conduit for Ian and himself, or maybe a magnifier. It made sense, in a way. Everard’s mate would likely have some sort of scientific explanation for what had occurred, but if Snorre was right and Geoffrey had mated to Ian first, then Matthieu must be responsible for the bond finally becoming something they could feel and recognize.
“Yes, he’s an impatient one, like his father. I do apologize, lotus blossom. That one will be a trial, I feel sure,” Snorre said.
Aruna held the egg close to her heart. “And one I gladly bear,priy.”
Snorre bent to kiss her thoroughly, then gestured to the pale boy sitting next to her. “This is my treasure, Vadim. And, no, he’s not my son, but he does call me Daddy.” The old dragon chuckled at his own humor. It had the rote sound of an old, oft-repeated joke. “Don’t you,zolotse?”
Vadim was absolutely stunning, with white-gold hair, crystalline eyes, and cheekbones that could have cut glass. He fluttered outrageously long lashes at Snorre and purred, “Da, Papa, ya bol'she, chem moy ves v brilliantakh.”
Geoffrey, who’d had to learn Russian when Aleksandr of the Diamond clan was head of the council and the headquarters were in St. Petersburg, translated that to something along the lines of:yes, Daddy, I’m worth my weight in diamonds.
“Without a doubt,zolotse. Boys,” Snorre said, looking at the whelps, who had gone back to wrestling, “do come here. Good. This one is Dmitry, and his smaller brother is Nikita.” There was a sort of psychic pop and in place of the dragons sat two naked boys who were, perhaps, four or five years old.
“I want a cookie!” the slightly larger boy demanded.
The other wandered over to Geoffrey, Matthieu, and Ian. “Pick me up,” he commanded.
Matthieu looked nonplussed and Ian slightly panicky, but Geoffrey had several nephews and was used to the drill.
He leaned down to look Nikita in the face. “Will you be good?” he asked.
The boy nodded.
“A verbal agreement is binding, I will remind you.”
The boy nodded again, looking for all the world as if he understood what Geoffrey meant.
“Alright. Up you get.” Geoffrey picked him up.
The boy squirmed about until he ended up on Matthieu’s lap, whereupon he yawned hugely and promptly settled down as if to sleep, turning back, as he did, into a dragon whelp. Meanwhile, his brother Dmitry sat and ate, with obvious relish, a very large cookie that he'd procured from someone in the room.
With a startling pop, Dmitry was suddenly a whelp again. He sniffed the cookie he held and put it down with a huff of annoyance.
“If you want the cookie,malysh, you’ll have to turn back,” Vadim admonished the whelp. “I’m sorry,” he said to Geoffrey, Matthieu, and Ian, “but they’ve only just started shifting. I’m afraid they’ve yet to fully master the process.”
Next to him, Matthieu sighed and stroked the dragon curled up in his lap. Longing, sharp as a knife, pierced through Geoffrey, and he didn’t know if it was his emotion or not. He was beginning to think it might not matter.
“And, lastly, my Ingrid, who’s been with me since nearly the beginning.” Snorre went to the pretty woman with white-blonde hair and big, blue eyes, lifted her small, pale hand, and kissed her fingers gallantly. “And this scamp,” he added, gesturing to a toddler with the same white-gold hair, who blew bubbles out of a pipe, “is Stephan.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Ingrid said. “It’s been many years, Geoffrey, but I’d recognize your aura anywhere, even if it is a bit changed from last I saw you.” She dimpled. “It’s more complex now than it was before. You’re in love. I’m happy for you.”
“You can see my aura?” Geoffrey asked.
