Page 161 of Finch

The… dragonet?

Static fizzled behind his eyes. All of a sudden he remembered why he’d woken up lips to the

floor.

Finch was pregnant.

He was going to be a father.

The strength left his legs and he crumpled to the floor in a heap. The last thing he heard was

Atticus, who tapped his cane gleefully on the floor. “Excellent. Another Drake dealt with. I

suppose in light of the situation, we should invite the doctor in next.”

Finch

Finch looked down at the dragon collapsed at his feet and sighed. It was very much like Hugh

to faint. Twice. For little reason. At least time hadn’t changed him. It was a small consolation

during an otherwise trying time.

“Is it common,” Finch asked the room in general as he sank to Hugh’s side, “for dragons to

faint this often? It seems the sort of thing I’d have heard about if it were.”

Hugh might have fainted, but he was conscious enough to bury his face against Finch’s

stomach once Finch had pulled him into his lap. Finch’s heart skipped a beat, and he took to

stroking Hugh’s hair very gently, emotionally exhausted, but enamored all the same.

Everard, who’d entered the room upon hearing the commotion, smirked. “Ah, no. Things have

been unusual since your untimely departure, notebook. Hugh went a little…”

“Mad,” Geoffrey concluded with finality. “He went bloody mad and stormed about, breaking

treaties and trying to sneak into other dragons’ hoards. Wouldn’t listen to a lick of reason. He

still insists you were kidnapped, despite my assurance hundreds of times to the contrary.”

“Running from your problems, boy?” Atticus whistled low. “I should have known. You can’t run

from your mate, you know. Most don’t try—why would they? But the one or two who’ve tried

over the centuries were found soon enough by their dragons and brought home. You do realize

you’re part of his hoard, don’t you?”

Finch looked at Hugh, who was either still out cold or a truly spectacular actor. “I’m not his

mate.”

Atticus snorted. “What rot. Youngsters these days, I do declare. What can they be thinking?”

Finch lowered his gaze and watched his fingers glide through Hugh’s hair. Yes, he loved Hugh

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