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Everard, who was still on the floor, opened his mouth, then closed it again. He glared at Atticus,

who glared back, then stiffly rose to his feet, dusted off the back of his pants, and allowed

himself to be herded from the room by his mate.

“What about me?” Geoffrey asked.

“Oh. You.” Atticus narrowed his eyes at him. “You seem crotchety. I like you. You can stay.”

Geoffrey’s expression fell flat. He arched a brow, folded his arms, and leaned against the wall

by the door.

“Which brings me to you.” Atticus directed his cane at Hugh. “I don’t suppose you’ll relinquish

your grip on my secretary, so until Willoughby procures an omega-sized amount of grease to

coat him in so we can work him out of your grasp, I suppose I’ll have to put up with you.”

“He is not your secretary,” Hugh fumed. “He is my secretary! You pilfered him from me.”

“I have done no such thing.” Atticus tramped the floor between them with his cane rather like

a judge would a gavel. “Quiet down, now. This isn’t about you. This is about Finch. It can be

about you later, once we’ve neatened all this chaos. Until then, I don’t want to hear a peep out

of you. Calvin, say your piece.”

It was ridiculous that such an old and feeble dragon could command a room in the way Atticus

did, but Hugh, as outraged as he was, felt compelled to stay silent. If Finch really did have

unresolved business with these vile kidnappers, it was important he have closure. Hugh could

restrain himself long enough for that.

“I truly had no idea,” Calvin, the younger dragon, said. “I attempted a clutch five times with five

separate candidates to no avail during my sanctioned period. The Pedigree omegas I bedded

remained in their cloisters, and that was the end of that. No one thought to tell me that I had

conceived a Disgrace.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Or, should I say, a

dragonet. If I had known…”

“What?” Finch prickled. “What would knowing have changed? You still wouldn’t have wanted

anything to do with me, and I would have been brought up in the cloister regardless.”

“If I had known, I would have made an effort to meet you,” Calvin said softly. He looked

genuinely crestfallen. “Perhaps it’s not much, but it would have been something. If I could

change the past, I would, but I can’t. All I can do is tell you the truth—that if I had known you

existed, things would have been different. I never meant to make you feel unloved.”

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