by Piper Scott
Hugh stroked Finch’s sweaty brow and kissed his temple. “There. That’s better, isn’t it?”
“It’s… acceptable,” was as far as Finch was willing to go.
“All right, then,” Everard said, sounding far more cheerful and sure of himself. He placed himself between Finch’s legs. “Let me have a bit of a rummage around in here.”
“I say,” Hugh began, sounding indignant.
“Hush, brother. I’m working here and this is very delicate. I need to concentrate. Can you be still for me, fountain pen?”
“I… I can try. What exactly are you doing?” Finch couldn’t help the note of suspicion that crept into his voice.
“Something important. Now, do not push. Not yet. Even with the pain numbed, you will still want to bear down, but hold it back.”
“What are you doing, brother?” Hugh asked with trepidation. He gripped Finch’s hand with equal fervor. “What aren’t you telling us?”
“Your baby is being stubborn. Instead of being head-down, like a proper birth, your child has decided to turn his back on the proceedings. I need to turn the baby, and if this doesn’t work, I’ll have to do a caesarean.”
Finch closed his eyes, held tightly to his mate, tried not to push, and prayed that the universe would keep his baby safe.
The universe, cheeky as ever, responded by sending someone through the bedroom door. Finch heard it open, then shut.
“What did I miss?” asked Harrison. “Not the birth, I hope.”
Everard looked briefly over his shoulder. “No, pudding cup, you haven’t. In fact, I’m in need of your assistance. Come here.”
“What do you need me to do, Ev?” Harrison asked as he appeared at the bedside.
“I need you to perform an ECV while I administer magic to numb father and child.”
The door opened again and Finch cursed internally. What now? There was already far too much chaos as it was, and the more bodies in the room, the worse it would get. He wanted, very badly, to tell everyone who wasn’t necessary to go the hell away.
“Is there anything I can do?” asked Calvin Drake.
“Hold your son’s other hand,” Everard barked. Calvin trotted over to the bed and did so, and had Finch not been on high alert over what Everard had said to Harrison, he might have found it nice.
“Okay, Finch,” Harrison began. “I’m going to be putting some pressure on you so we can get the baby into the position he or she needs to be in. It’s not going to feel great, but I promise it won’t last for long. I’m going to make this as quick as possible, so please bear with me.”
Harrison laid his hands on Finch’s distended belly and pushed. Even with Everard’s numbing magic, the pain was intense. Involuntary tears streamed down Finch’s face. Hugh wiped them away ineffectually with his shirt sleeve until Calvin produced a snowy handkerchief and presented it to his son-in-law.
“You can do the honors,” Calvin said to Hugh as he held Finch’s hand in both of his. To Finch, he said, “You can do this, child. I have faith in you.”
It was strange, but also good, to have a father in his life for the first time. Finch knew Calvin was trying, in his gentle way, to make up for missing his childhood. It was hard shedding years of resentment, but Finch was also trying, and the two were slowly growing closer. He only wished they weren’t growing closer now, when he was in the midst of the greatest pain of his life.
“Steady,” Everard said, speaking to his mate as he pushed on Finch’s abdomen. “I can see movement. Come on, now. Come on.”
One last jolt of pain tore through Finch, and he screamed. For a moment, the world was dark, and when he opened his eyes again, his fingernails were dug into Calvin and Hugh’s hands. Neither dragon tried to pull away.
“It’s done,” Everard said. “I can now safely deliver the babe.”
Finch gasped and sank onto the mattress. He tried not to think about what Everard was doing between his legs, but it was hard not to. Even with his healing magic, Finch felt his hands and the tremendous, splitting pressure as his child was slowly born.
“Push,” Everard said, and when the next contraction came, Finch let it wash over him and allowed nature to take its course. He pushed like he never had before.
“You can do it,” Hugh praised in a whisper as he squeezed Finch’s hand. “You can do anything. I’ve always known that.” He kissed Finch’s cheek. “I love you so much.”
Finch, meanwhile, held on to his father and his mate and labored to bring his first child into the world.
The ringing cry that sounded when the babe was finally born was the sweetest sound Finch could imagine.
“It’s a boy,” Harrison revealed. “Can I wash him?”
Finch was too tired to think of doing anything other than being in bed. He closed his eyes and nodded, hearing rather than seeing Harrison leave for the en suite bathroom. Water ran. While it did, magic flowed through Finch once more, making him tremble from the pleasure it brought.
Magic, he thought, is my new favorite thing, right after Hugh, our child, and an efficiently organized desk.
Finch didn’t open his eyes again until a soft, small bundle was placed in his arms. Harrison had brought back his son. The child was naked and quite warm to the touch, his face small and wrinkled. A dusting of dark hair covered the top of his head. He was perfect. Utterly perfect. Finch was already in love.
“Look at him,” Hugh whispered in awe as he drew Finch into his arms. “Finch, he’s more amazing than I could have ever dreamed. Look at him. Look how small he is. Can you believe it? And he’s ours now to love forever. Our son. Our pride and joy. Our Theodore.”
Love hummed through the mate bond from Hugh, which Finch met with love of his own. It was, perhaps, the greatest moment of his life to be here in bed with his mate and son, and surrounded by family who loved them. And if it was not the greatest, it would still be the moment he’d hold up to every other wonderful thing to happen to him over the course of his long life.
While Finch fed his son, three dragons and an omega-beta made themselves useful by setting the room back to rights. When the last pillow was placed back on the bed, Everard asked, “Are you up to visitors? Although I’m fairly certain you won’t have much of a choice soon enough. Nothing will keep them out for long.”
To prove his point, there was a knock at the door, followed by Grimbold Drake’s booming voice. “We heard crying and a lack of swearing. When will we be permitted entry to meet the newest Drake?”
Finch growled. He wanted to send them all away forever but knew that idea was futile. They were dragons and they’d do what they wanted to do, everyone else be damned. It didn’t matter that he looked a fright and all he wanted to do was cuddle in bed with his two favorite men. Finch knew, better than most, that some things took precedence.
“Should I kill them all for you?” Calvin asked. He sounded earnest, but there was a twinkle in his eye.
“Oh, let them in. Better to get it over with. Then can you herd them all somewhere else?”
“It would be,” Calvin said with a smile, “my pleasure.”
The next few hours went by in a Drake-shaped blur. Most of Hugh’s family stopped by to greet Theodore, but there were a few notable absences. Namely, Sebastian and Peregrine. But the rest were there, even Geoffrey and his mates, who’d flown in from California, and Atticus, who’d come with Calvin. The men all cooed and made silly faces at the baby as they passed him around. The only one who didn’t hold him was Grimbold, who had his own baby held securely in his arms. He did smile at his grandson, however, and held his daughter in only one arm long enough to touch Theodore’s dark, downy hair.
Finch was sad not to see Peregrine, as he rather liked the sweet omega. Hugh also seemed puzzled as to why they hadn’t shown up, and asked Everard if he knew anything the next time his brother passed by.
“Sebastian sends his regrets,” Everard relayed without coming to a full stop. He was on his way over to Harrison, who was condu
cting science on a wide-eyed Walter and his daughter, Joy. “He says his mate is not up to leaving the house at the moment.”
“I hope he’s not ill,” Finch said when Everard was gone. “But if he’s unwell, it’s best he stays away. I’ll make a point to visit with him later. I’ll bring the little man with me.”
“You’ll bring the big dragon along as well,” Hugh said with a somewhat uncharacteristic huff. “Something is brewing. Don’t know what, but my dragon senses it.”
As if to illustrate the point, Bertram, who’d been having a very quiet argument with Grimbold in the corner of the room, stalked away from his father and came to stand by where Hugh and Finch sat. “I apologize, but I must go. I’ve business to attend to.”
Hugh narrowed his eyes. “Do you?”
Bertram clapped his brother on the back. “I do, indeed. And never fear. I’ll make sure all is well. It is, after all, what I do.” He bowed slightly and left the room.
Finch frowned after him. Of all of Hugh’s siblings, Finch knew the least about Bertram. “What exactly does he do?”
“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Hugh said, “and I’ve no wish to know. Something dull, I’m sure. Bit of an errand boy for our father. Not my cup of tea.”
“Hm.” Finch frowned, but didn’t pursue it. If it was important, the information would come to him in time. It always did. And he had far more important things to do now. He was a father, and he was determined to be the best one that ever was.
“This is, without a doubt, the absolute best day of my entire life.” Hugh sighed happily. “I love you. I love you both more than I can ever express.” A thought drifted through Hugh’s eyes like a cloud, and in a sudden panic, Hugh peered down at newborn Theodore. “Finch, we need to find him a mate!”
Finch raised his eyebrows. “Hugh, he’s not even a day old. You’ve got many years yet to meddle in his life.”
“But he can’t die, Finch. Not ever.” Hugh turned huge, beseeching eyes upon Finch. “I won’t allow it.”
Finch gave Hugh a quick kiss. “Give him time, my dear dragon. Let him grow up.”
“But—”
“And if, in time, he needs a mate, I can find one for him. I found one for you, didn’t I?”
Hugh grinned hugely. “What would I do without you, Finch?”
Finch leaned over and kissed his mate. “A better question, my love, is what would I do without you?”
Epilogue
Hugh
Theodore Frederick Drake, born September nineteenth at 7:17 AM and weighing six pounds, two ounces, was not a whelp, but he was perfect. From the swirl of dark hair on his head to his ten tiny toes, there was not a thing about him Hugh would change. According to Finch—who was far smarter than Hugh would ever be—babies only started to resemble their parents at around the three-week mark, when they became less wrinkly and red and more adorably round. It didn’t stop Hugh from seeing echoes of Finch in his tiny button nose and in the shape of his lips.
“He’s just like you,” Hugh told Finch proudly when all non-resident Drakes had been shown from the room. “Do you see it, Finch? Do you see the resemblance? I know you said it’s too early, but I swear, it’s there. He’ll grow up to be every bit as gorgeous as you, I can already tell.”
Theodore, who was cradled in Finch’s arms, opened and closed his mouth soundlessly. Hugh, smitten with every little thing he did, cuddled closer to Finch’s side and stroked his son’s dark hair. His earlier buzz had, thankfully, started to wear off. All that remained was a dopey kind of cheerfulness that amplified his current mood.
“Do you think so?” Finch smiled down at Theodore. “If that’s the case, I hope he inherits your charm.”
“But with your sharp wit and intellect,” Hugh was quick to add. “Oh, the things he’ll accomplish in life. I can hardly wait to see. We should set up a college fund—no, two of them. Three? Finch, how often does a young man go to college? I’m afraid education was never a top priority of mine, and even had it been, so much has changed since I was of schooling age that I doubt my experience would be much of a help at all.”
“Sir, you are in possession of a hoard. A college fund won’t be necessary.”
“Are you saying college costs a hoard’s weight in gold?” Hugh’s eyes bulged. “Good lord, how does Rey sleep at night?”
“No, sir.” Finch chuckled. “College is expensive, but even if we had eleven children enrolled in the finest institutions in the world, it wouldn’t put a dent in your net worth.”
“Ah. Good. And we will send Theodore to the finest institutions, won’t we?”
“If it’s what he wants.”
“Yes. Yes, of course. As long as it’s what he wants.” Hugh introduced his pinkie finger to Theodore’s hand and was delighted when he grasped it. The boy was small, but his grip was sure and strong. A Drake through and through. Hugh couldn’t be more proud. “He will have everything he wants, and so will you. I will take care of you both to my last breath, Finch. I swear it.”
“I have no doubt that you will.”
All three were silent after that. Hugh rested his head on Finch’s shoulder and watched Theodore fall asleep. It was hard to believe that this was his life now—that after so many years of unhappiness, not only had he found the family he’d been so desperately seeking, but the love of his life as well. His darling, beloved, irreplaceable Finch would be his forever, and at his side, Hugh would learn to be a better man than he’d ever been before. A better dragon, too. Simply better as a whole. And all due to Finch’s influence.
“What now?” Hugh asked when want of sleep began to prickle the backs of his eyelids. “I don’t want to let Theodore out of my sight, but I could use a nap, and I’m sure you could, too.”
“Place him in the bassinet,” Finch said.
In retrospect, as beautiful as the nursery looked, it’d been foolish to set up Theodore’s accommodations in a separate room. Geoffrey and Ian had been kind enough to carry in the necessities during their visit, insisting Hugh would want to keep Theodore close. They hadn’t been wrong. Hugh was especially glad for their generosity now as he laid Theodore down to sleep.
“Is it okay to leave him there on his own?” Hugh asked as he settled into bed. “I placed him on his back, like you said, and there’s nothing in there with him. That should be enough, shouldn’t it? I haven’t forgotten anything? I—”
Finch hushed Hugh with a tender kiss that didn’t end until Hugh physically relaxed.
“He will be fine,” Finch told him as he tucked in close to Hugh and wove their legs together. “You’ve done everything right. All that’s left to do is hold me.”
If their son hadn’t been in the room, Hugh would have done more than that, but he was a family man now, so he wrapped Finch in his arms and let his mate get comfortable.
“I love you, Finch,” Hugh whispered into Finch’s dark hair as they fell asleep. “You’ve made me the happiest dragon in the world.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Finch said, a smile in his voice. “Being with you has made me uncommonly happy, too.”
Fatherhood suited Hugh, and he wore it as proudly and boldly as he could. Babies, he’d learned rather quickly, couldn’t do much, but Theodore—Theodore was different. Hugh would teach him everything. And he would teach him right.
“This is a dragon,” Hugh told his infant son at their daily lesson. As usual, Theodore was in his bassinet and Hugh was stationed beside him. In his hand, he held a flash card. On it was a drawing of a friendly Emerald dragon and the letter “D.” Despite Hugh’s best efforts, he’d been unable to find flash cards with Amethyst dragons. A pity that his art skills were disastrous at best—he would have loved for Theodore to see his clan represented in human media. Alas, it wasn’t to be. “Dragon,” Hugh said, making sure to enunciate the word. “Dragon starts with a ‘D’ and ends with a ‘ragon.’ Do you see the picture, Theodore?”
Theodore, who was only three weeks old, kicked his feet.
<
br /> Hugh took it as an affirmation.
“Good. Now, do you know why dragons are so important?” Hugh reached into the bassinet and stroked Theodore’s soft hair. “Dragons are important because they are family. I am a dragon, and my brothers are dragons, and we have been dragons for as far back as you can imagine. But what you might not know is that your father is a dragon, too. And so are you. A dragon through and through.”
“Hugh?” asked Finch in an amused tone of voice from the door. “What are you doing?”
“I’m teaching Theodore about dragons,” Hugh replied. He showed Finch the flash card. “Whelps are born with their scales, so it’s easy for them to understand who they are, but dragonets aren’t. I want Theodore to know from the very start that he is no less a dragon than his cousins. I will not have him doubt himself. He will grow up strong and certain and proud of his heritage. Everything you went through, Finch, and all of the shame burdened on Disgraces out of sheer ignorance… I won’t have it. If there is only one thing Theodore learns in life, it will be that he is worthy of the Drake name.”
Finch was very still and quiet for a moment. When it came to the point where Hugh thought he would not speak at all, he swept into the room and stood by Hugh’s side. With such scant distance between them, Hugh saw for himself the glimmer in Finch’s eyes. “That’s a very sweet thing of you to do.”
“Sweet?” Hugh shook his head. He set the flash cards down—education could wait for another day. “No, Finch. It’s not sweet. It’s essential. For thousands of years we’ve told ourselves that our human-born children are lesser, unwanted creatures better left to perish in the cloisters than be a part of our lives, and a mindset like that won’t change overnight. Theodore will encounter dragons in his life who are convinced that the old way is the only way, and he needs to know to the depths of his very soul that he is worthy, so that when he meets dragons like that, he can continue to hold his head high and know he is loved and valued no matter what they say.”