“And what truth is that?” Matthieu asked.
Ingrid hummed. She tilted her head to look through the foliage and at the sky. “That they have been wrong about the mate bond—and Snorre—all this time.”
Matthieu didn’t know what to say to that. While Geoffrey and Ian seemed to have a working knowledge of who Snorre was, Matthieu only knew what they had told him, and had only been able to cobble together an understanding of the old pervert through context clues.
“Between Harrison’s research, the fact that you are mated to two dragons, and the existence of our complex family, I believe that there is too much evidence for even the ornery clan heads to ignore. What the draconian world knows about mates is wrong and outdated. The answer has been staring us in the face for thousands of years, and yet, we’ve been too blind to see it.”
“That mate bonds develop between dragons and Disgraces?”
“No.” Ingrid turned her head to look at him, her gaze resolute. “If that were the case, every dragon would mate with every Disgrace on sight. It’s more complex than that. A mate bond can only be established if it’s what the heart truly wants. Snorre and I spent a thousand years together before Yinju came into our lives, and before I arrived in Snorre’s life, I know that he was not celibate, and that he made a hobby of sneaking into cloisters and systematically deflowering the omegas within. It’s how we met, after all.” She blushed, and her smile grew at the memory. “What made me different was that Snorre was ready to love me, and I was ready to love him. And when we discovered Yinju, our hearts felt the same way again. When we met Aruna, we bonded to her not because it was Snorre’s will alone, but because it was our collective will to do so. She loved us, and we loved her. Now, she is ours, and we are hers.”
“That can’t be true.” Matthieu pulled his knees to his chest and watched as Stephan crept along the pine branch like an inchworm. He’d meant to continue his train of thought—to tell Ingrid that he hadn’t had room in his heart for love when Geoffrey and Ian had taken him from his cloister and brought him to America to be a lab rat—but he found the thought too painful. At that time, he’d been bitter. Conditioned by the Pedigree to believe that he was nothing more than a pretty thing to be bred and then discarded, his mind had been poisoned by preconceptions of what dragons were.
Greedy. Gluttonous. Selfish.
Geoffrey and Ian had proved him wrong.
Ingrid shrugged. “I’ll admit that there is a chance I could be mistaken. None of us are scientists, although in my many years, I’ve certainly broadened my understanding of the scientific world. But from what I’ve seen happen in our family, and from what I know of the Pedigree and the dragons who frequent it… I can’t help but feel that I’m correct. I know there are other factors at play, and I trust that Harrison, with his big, brilliant mind, will bring them to light, but in my heart, I know I can’t be far from the truth.”
“To form a mate bond, you have to fall in love.” Matthieu snorted. “It sounds so simple.”
“Simple, yes, and yet how many dragons visit cloisters seeking nothing more than an incubator for their clutch? And how many of those dragons find mates?” Ingrid stood, then walked to Stephan, who’d trapped himself at the end of the branch. Ingrid pulled him into her arms, then kissed the top of his head. “How many dragons throw their omegas away without a second thought? How many believe that Disgraces are cursed and unworthy? When the council came to be two thousand years ago, and the idea of the Pedigree was born, the world changed, and we all suffered for it. The old dragons are dead, and their secrets have died with them. If they were to look at us today? If they were to see how we treat our children? I think they would be ashamed of us.Weshould be ashamed of us.”
“Birdie,” Stephan helpfully added.
Matthieu looked up. Killian perched farther up in the tree, his beady eyes judging them from above. Matthieu found himself concerned that he might be the first-ever fatality from a peacock cannonball.
“Then you don’t believe in the Pedigree,” Matthieu said carefully. He looked at Stephan, who, if born in any other family, would have been sent away alongside his defective mother, then thought of Genji, Snorre and Yinju’s daughter, who had been willing to fight them for her freedom. Snorre hadn’t sent any of them away—he loved them all instead. Loved them for who they were, rather than what they offered. Loved selflessly and deeply.
Matthieu blinked back tears.
He’d been raised in his cloister and taught that he was nothing more than an object, but now he had a chance to be so much more.
“There are better things to believe in,” Ingrid assured him. She set Stephan down, and no sooner did she than he ran for the tree and scurried back up as far as he could go. Killian studied him from above, then hopped a branch higher when Stephan tried to pull his drooping tail feathers. “But sometimes, believing is not enough. What we need now is action.”
“I agree,” Matthieu said. He watched Killian hop back and forth several branches above Stephan, teasing him by keeping his feathers just out of reach. “I am ready, and even if my dragons are not, you have my word—I will fight.”
24
Ian
In Ian’s dreams, fragments of his waking life flitted in and out of focus.
The smooth, satiny sensation of scales against his skin. Gold coins so cool upon his body, they felt like ice. The overwhelming need to protect and provide.
Fulfillment.
Heart-filling fulfillment.
Beep.
A burst of purple. A low, lusty roar, followed by a tender gasp of exquisite pleasure. Folding, comforting wings holding him close and never letting go.
Beep.
Red. Deep, beautiful red.
Familiarity. Comfort. Love.
