Peregrine by Piper Scott
Perry
Present Day
Once the boys were fed and their syrup-sticky hands were cleaned, Perry kissed them each on the top of the head and left home to visit a certain Harrison Lessardi-Drake. In the week since his appointment with Everard, he’d come to the conclusion that while his brother-in-law was a very fine doctor, there were some matters an alpha simply could not understand. How fortunate it was that his mate was just as capable a physician. With his sharp mind, unending curiosity, and love of all things reptile—human-shaped or otherwise—Harrison was bound to know something that would help Perry’s condition beyond simple bed rest and beet juice, and if not, Perry had no doubt he’d bury his nose in a book and plumb the scientific depths of his mind until he did.
It was a quick trip from Sebastian’s lair to Everard’s estate. Perry’s personal chauffeur, Williams, slowed the Lexus to a stop before its impressive front staircase, shifted into park, and turned in her seat to make eye contact. “We’re here, sir. Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Perry offered her a smile that did nothing to ease the concern on her face. “Harrison is a dear friend and I’m here to pay him a visit. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
Williams did not look convinced.
“Despite that, I’d appreciate your discretion.” Perry chewed on his bottom lip. “Sebastian is not entirely aware of where I am, you see, and for simplicity’s sake it should remain that way.”
Williams looked less convinced than ever, but she was nothing if not trustworthy, and offered him a curt, professional nod. “You have my word.”
“I shan’t be long,” Perry promised. He smiled a little more brightly, but no amount of love nor joy could do away with the knot lodged in his throat. It reflected in his smile. It had to. “Your sister lives near here, doesn’t she? Why not stop in to see her? I’ll be in touch when I’m ready to leave.”
“That’s very generous of you, sir.”
“Think nothing of it.” Perry moved forward in his seat and laid a hand delicately on her shoulder. “After I’m done here, there will be nowhere else I have to be. You’re welcome to take the day off once my business has concluded.”
Williams paused, then sighed and tucked a strand of gray-streaked hair behind her ear. “I understand that you’re nervous for your friendly visit with Harrison, sir, but you don’t have to buy my silence. You and Master Sebastian have been nothing but kind, and there is no reason in the world why I’d treat you with anything other than my utmost respect. I will keep your secrets. I will keep them all. And you have my word that the rest of the staff will do the same.”
She knew, then. Perry’s hand trembled, then fell from her shoulder. He laid his head there instead. “Thank you.”
“Silly boy,” Williams whispered. She ran her fingers through his hair. “We hate to see you so out of sorts. Don’t let us—any of us—worry you. You already have so much weight on your shoulders.”
“I’m so afraid, Alana,” Perry whispered as he closed his eyes. “I can’t have this happen again. I can’t. My heart can’t stand it, and Sebastian…” Despite his best efforts, the knot lodged in his throat tightened, and he let out a shuddering sob. “Sebastian always acts so strong, but I know—I know—he grieves. I see it in his eyes and I can’t stand it. I cannot.”
Williams laid her head against his. She said nothing, but the heaviness in the air spoke for her. In it, Perry knew her heart.
“He tries to keep me safe,” he whispered after a long while. “He does his very best, I know, but there are some matters that simply cannot be helped. Not by traditional means.”
Williams nodded, nuzzling Perry’s hair in the process.
“So I will see Harrison.” Hope trilled in Perry’s voice, but even then, it was uncertain. “I will see if I can protect myself and in doing so, shield Sebastian as well. So much has changed since we were first mated. Surely there must be something that can be done.”
Williams hummed reassuringly. “Of course, sir. You are very brave.”
“I am very foolish,” Perry admitted with a sad laugh. “To think this could end differently than it has for the last five hundred years is insanity, but what other choice do I have?” He laid a hand over his belly. “I have to try.”
Williams kissed his hair. “And try you will. Go to Harrison. See what he has to say. I will be here for you when it’s over, and no matter what happens, all will be well.”
With time Perry knew it would be, but knowing didn’t stop it from hurting any less.
* * *
“Good day, Master Peregrine,” said Cleaver, the very prim and proper butler of the Drake-Lessardi household, upon opening the front door. “What an unexpected but delightful surprise.”
“You flatter me.” Perry smiled for him. “It’s a delight to see you, too, Cleaver. Are you well? How is your ankle?”
A hint of a smile perked Cleaver’s stern lips. “I’m well, and as for these old bones?” He lifted a foot and shook it illustratively from side to side. “They feel younger than ever, no doubt in large part to Master Everard, who personally sees to my arthritis.”
“He is a gem, isn’t he?” Perry laid a tender hand on Cleaver’s arm. “And your daughter?”
Cleaver’s face lit up. “She is exceptionally well, Master Peregrine. Little Elijah will be celebrating his first birthday next month—can you believe it? I’ll be making a trip out of the occasion and staying with her and her husband for the week.”
“One year already? How time flies.”
“Indeed, indeed.” Cleaver, in a much livelier mood than before, stepped away from the door and gestured inside. “Please, come in. Shall I bring you to see Master Everard?”
“No, thank you. I’m here to visit with Harrison today.”
Cleaver blinked, which was about as close as he ever got to looking surprised. “Master Harrison?”
“Yes, darling.” Perry stepped into the house and took Cleaver by the arm. Cleaver blushed—a rare treat. “Harrison is a delight and I am very eager to see him, but between you and me…” Perry leaned in and stood on his toes to speak quietly into Cleaver’s ear. “If you wouldn’t mind, would you keep word of my arrival a secret? Some conversations are simply too sensational for reptilian ears. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course, of course.” Cleaver patted his hand and off they went, stopping only to check in on Andre, who was in the middle of making sandwiches and brewing tea.
* * *
Harrison’s office was empty when Perry arrived, so he settled in one of its armchairs and passed the time in quiet introspection. There was much to think about. Part of him still wasn’t sure that telling Harrison the truth was a good idea, since Harrison, as earnest as he could be, was sometimes careless about the things he said, and there was a chance he might let slip to the rest of the family that Perry was expecting. But it was a risk Perry had to take.
There was something wrong with him, he knew it, and if Everard was only willing to treat him with bed rest and beet juice, a second opinion was necessary.
Several minutes later the door opened, but it was Hugh Drake’s dark-haired secretary, Finch—not Harrison—who stepped into the room.
“Finch.” Perry suppressed his surprise with a smile. “How good to see you. How are you? Are you well?”
A dull look saddened Finch’s eyes. It was nothing like how Perry had last seen him when they’d gathered for the boys’ birthday party several months back, and it was alarming enough of a change that Perry sat at attention.
Something was certainly wrong.
“Did Harrison tell you, then?” Finch asked in a dreary tone.
Harrison had certainly not, but the dots were beginning to connect all the same.
“I would never do that,” Harrison said as he stepped into the room. “I may not have my M.D. yet, but I do know a thing or two about doctor-patient confidentiality, and I would never break it. I promise.”
Finch reddened with embarrassment. “I do beg your pardon.”
“Oh, it’s all right.” Harrison offered him an easy smile. “I’m not mad. It’s a very easy mistake to make, and I’m glad we were able to sort it out before any feelings got hurt.”
Perry’s attention drifted from Finch to Harrison, then back again. The last time he’d seen Finch, poor clueless Hugh had been courting him without realizing it. It seemed matters had progressed since then. Omega secretaries did not make a habit out of paying Harrison Lessardi-Drake house calls. Not unless they were consorting with dragons.
Whatever the case, the distress on Finch’s face was plain to see, and it felt terribly rude to be witnessing him uninvited during such a trying time.
“Would you like me to leave, darling?” Perry asked. “I had no idea you were visiting, and I didn’t mean to intrude. I can wait in another room until your business has been concluded.”
“No. No, it’s fine.” Finch looked miserably at Harrison, then even more miserably at Perry. “I suppose I should get used to talking about it, as word will spread soon enough, and everyone will know. Hugh took my heat and I didn’t catch. I’ve failed to give him a clutch.”
So that was it, then. What a miserable turn of events. Perry’s heart ached for him, for it was a pain he knew all too well.
“That’s not entirely true,” Harrison interjected. “Finch could be pregnant with a dragonet.” He gestured at Finch’s midsection. “I couldn’t detect eggs during his ultrasound, but a fetus would be almost undetectable at this stage. We need to do blood work to accurately conclude what’s happening. Or a pregnancy test, but blood work is way more accurate, and I’d rather do the tests myself than rely on something that’s been mass manufactured.”
The bottom dropped out of Perry’s stomach.
A dragonet.
Finch could be pregnant with a dragonet.
The conversation continued, but Perry heard very little of it. Awful, poisonous thoughts distracted him. In his mind’s eye, he imagined a babe harbored in Finch and saw the life she might one day have. The love, the laughter, and the joy. She would experience all the things his own dragonet children had never been able to experience, would make her mark on the world and be marked by it in turn.
What color would her eyes be?
Her hair?
Would she grow up to be timid and shy, or as bold and colorful as Hugh’s beloved Funfetti?
White-hot jealousy seared Perry from the inside.
If Finch were pregnant, he would get to know all those things that right now, he seemed so ungrateful for. When it came to Perry’s own child—so badly wanted, yet so much at risk—he might never know.
It was a hideous, yet unshakable thought. Hating Finch for being able to have what he couldn’t wasn’t right, but it was easy, and after hundreds of years of heartbreak, it was a hard emotion to shake. But nothing productive would come of being bitter. Thinking ill of someone else would not give Perry the baby he wanted. So he reframed his thoughts.
Finch, much like himself, had been raised to believe that no dragon wanted a human child, and that they were a source of shame. It didn’t matter if none of it was true—it hurt all the same. What Finch needed was support and, more than that, someone to listen. Not to judge.
No matter how bitter the taste in his mouth, it was the right thing to do.
Perry tuned back in to the conversation in time to hear Harrison ask if Finch would like Cleaver to show him to the door.
“No need,” Perry said, cutting seamlessly into the conversation. With a tinkle of the bangles on his wrist, he rose and placed a gentle hand on the small of Finch’s back. “I’ll show our friend out. I’ll be back shortly.”
Perry steered Finch from the room. Once there was a door separating him from Harrison, he leaned in close and said, “Loving a dragon isn’t always easy, especially when one isn’t marked.”
Finch flinched. “That really isn’t any of your—”
“It’s also hard to dream of children when you know, when you are certain in the deepest part of your heart, that you will never have them. That you will never have anything.”
A shiver ran through Finch, whose posture tightened. There was silence for a moment, disrupted only by the sound of their footsteps. Out of the corner of his eye, Perry thought he saw a door farther down the hallway close, but it may have been just a trick of the light.
At last, with a tiny shake of his head, Finch said, “But you’re mated to Sebastian and have been for half a millennium. You have everything.”
If only he knew.
Perry smiled, but there was little joy in it. “Perhaps not everything. But my situation is neither here nor there.”
“I don’t think I can bear it,” Finch admitted in despair. They reached the staircase and began their descent.
“Bear what, darling?”
“Seeing his disappointment. Seeing it reflected in his eyes every day that he sees me. I… I just can’t.”
Pain arrowed through Perry anew. “I think you sell yourself short,” he said as they crossed the marble floor of the grand foyer. “And Hugh. You sell him short as well.”
“My best-case scenario,” Finch said bitterly, “is to be carrying a human Disgrace.”
Perry took a moment to compose himself so he wouldn’t lash out. Finch was only repeating what draconian society had believed for so long to be true, and lessons so deeply ingrained were difficult to shake. “Hugh can only father dragons and dragonets. There’s no such thing as a Disgrace. A dragon’s offspring, no matter what form they take, are never human. A dragon can only sire more dragons.”
“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Hugh doesn’t want a Disgrace or a dragonet. He wants a clutch. All he’s ever wanted was a clutch.”
It was, perhaps, the truth as Finch knew it, but it wouldn’t be the truth forever. Hugh’s heart was larger than that.
He brought them to a stop by the mansion’s large front door and smiled at the footman, Gerald, a Topaz transplant who’d yet to warm to life in Amethyst territory. “Gerald, please get Finch’s coat and hat. He wishes to go home.”
“Yes, sir.”
Gerald bowed his head and went to fetch Finch’s belongings.
When he was out of earshot, Finch shook his head. “I can’t believe you know the names of servants that aren’t even your own.”
It seemed that Gerald was not the only one in need of warming to life as an Amethyst. Perry smiled. “I wasn’t always the mate of a dragon. But never mind that. I think that you’ll find Hugh doesn’t really want a clutch.”
Finch snorted. “I can assure you he does.”
Perry squeezed Finch’s hand. “I think that what Hugh wants is to be a father.” Gerald reappeared, carrying with him what Perry could only assume was Finch’s outerwear. “Oh, and look. Here’s the very efficient Gerald now with your hat and coat. Think about what I said, Finch.”
Finch nodded but said nothing and was gone shortly after, but in his absence, Perry’s pain only grew. He wished he could reach out to Finch and tell him that he wasn’t alone, that his pain was valid, and that there was a brilliant future ahead of him, but he couldn’t. His was a suffering he shouldered alone, as it had been since the very first time he’d fallen pregnant all those years ago.
But maybe…
Perry slid a hand over what could—would—one day be a baby bump.
Maybe one day soon, that would change. He would see what Harrison had to say. The only way forward was to speak the truth and do away with the pretty lies he always told about his past. Hopefully it would be enough to save the babe.
* * *
It did not take Perry long to return to Harrison’s office. When he arrived, the omega-beta was tapping the tip of a pen thoughtfully on the margin of an agenda, but he stopped and looked up when Perry entered, awarding him a beaming smile. “Hello, Perry! Thank you for helping Finch. He did seem awfully out of sorts.”
“He did, the poor dear.”
“Are you feeling out of sorts, too?” Harrison gestured invitingly at one of the armchairs in front of his desk. “Come have a seat and tell me what’s been going on. Just remember that while I’m a doctor, I’m not a medical doctor yet, so if it’s something serious, you’re probably better off making an appointment with Ev. I wouldn’t want my lack of practical experience to make things worse.”
“That is very sweet of you.” Perry came to sit in the armchair Harrison had gestured at, crossing one leg over the other and laying his hands daintily on his lap. “But you see, the reason I’m here today is because I have already been to see Everard, and I am left in want of a second opinion. One from an individual such as yourself, who I hope is more likely to understand.”
“An individual such as me?” Harrison pushed his glasses up his nose and crossed his arms on the desk, leaning forward on his elbows. “Do you mean as a descendant of the Opal clan, Perry?”
“No, darling.” Perry smiled thinly. “I mean as a dragonet.”
“Oh.” Harrison paused for a few seconds, seemingly to puzzle out his meaning. “Is there something the matter with your estrus cycle? The boys are eight now, so your heat is bound to start again at any time. Are you worried about being caught unaware? Because I sure was. Iggy says that as long as I can still feel the whelp bond I shouldn’t worry about it, but it’s so faint now that I’m sure it won’t be long before it goes away completely. I’ve got some heat dampeners on standby, just in case, but I’m not even sure if I’ll need them since I was born a beta. I can’t wait to find out!”
“My heat resumed after the boys’ seventh birthday,” Perry confided in him once he was sure Harrison had finished speaking. “My latest heat began on the day of the children’s birthday party. You remember the one?”
“Of course! Steve got to eat a strawberry. He’s been talking about it ever since.”
Perry paused. “I… suppose he did, yes. But all that aside, the reason I’m here has nothing to do with the regularity of my heats. They have, over the centuries, become more and more infrequent. I think it’s because I’m getting older. I could be wrong, certainly, but that feels right. I have discussed it with Ingrid, the oldest dragonet I know, and she says the same is true for her, but seems to be less the case for Yinju.” Perry shrugged. “But that has nothing to do with my motivation for coming here today. The trouble is…” He frowned. “I must confess, I haven’t been entirely truthful with you, darling. I have not been truthful at all.”
Harrison blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Many moons ago, I told you a fairy tale,” Perry admitted. He chose his words with care, not only for Harrison’s sake, but his own. “I did not do it for any nefarious purpose, I assure you. It’s just that there are some things that are too painful to talk about, no matter how many years go by. You see…” Perry’s lips wobbled, and he held back a sob. “I think there is something wrong with me. I do not know if it is some genetic defect, or if it is the result of an old injury, but there has to be something. It can’t be a matter of unending bad luck. Not after five hundred years.”
“I’m afraid I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Harrison smiled hesitantly. “I’m happy to help you, but I need to know exactly what it is you think is wrong.”
“I have been pregnant many dozens of times,” Perry confessed in a hushed voice as centuries of old pain roiled inside of him. “But I have only been able to carry two pregnancies to term, and both of them clutches, never dragonets.”
Harrison, the dear, sat up quite straight. His eyes went very wide. “How many dozens?”
Perry closed his eyes and thought about something he usually tried not to dwell on. “The lost babes have become less common over the last three centuries or so, but added together, I think the number might be close to a hundred.”
“A hundred. I can’t believe it. It never even occurred to me that a mated dragonet could have so many children, but it makes sense. With two heats a year and without effective contraceptives or heat dampeners until relatively recently, there would be nothing stopping so many births from happening. Perhaps that’s why some dragonets have fewer heats over time. I need to study that. I might have a hypothesis that—”
“Harry, darling, please focus. I do need you to help me. If you can.”
“Oh. I do tend to go off onto tangents, don’t I?”
Perry smiled, even though anxiety chewed through his heart. “Science is a hard taskmaster.”
“Indeed it is.” Harrison blinked at Perry. “Where was I? Oh! I meant to say I am so sorry. I can’t imagine how terrible all of that must have been. What can I do to help?”
Perry dabbed his eyes with the sleeve of his blouse. “I’m pregnant again,” he admitted. “Everard has told me the best course of action is to rest and stay hydrated, but I know something more is wrong. I suspect it has to do with this…” Perry unbuttoned his blouse to show Harrison his most shameful imperfection—four long pink scars spanning from his pectoral to his hip. Marks left by a dragon’s claws. “This is an injury I sustained before I was Sebastian’s mate, and while it was healed by magic, none of the Drakes were as skilled then as they are now, and medicine has come quite a long way. The original injuries did sink quite deep and were longer than my scars. I fear there was internal damage done that has long gone unaddressed.”
Harrison hummed thoughtfully and came out from behind his desk to look at the scars up close. “Would it be okay if I touched them, Perry?”
“Please do.”
Harrison rubbed his hands together to warm them, then gently laid one of them over Perry’s scars. “I’m not very good at magic,” he admitted. “I’ve been learning it from Ev, but I’m still a beginner. If it hurts, tell me, and I’ll stop.”
Perry, who was well aware of how magic could be painful—even the kind meant to heal—nodded.
“Okay,” Harrison said, taking a deep breath. “Here I go.”
For a moment, nothing happened, then a rush of exploratory magic flowed through Perry. It was uncomfortably warm, but didn’t burn, so he said nothing and allowed Harrison to work.
“Oh, wow. This is interesting.” Harrison slid his hand from Perry’s chest to his abdomen, below his scars. “You’re right. At one time, these wounds were much larger. The tissue here is different than the tissue that surrounds it—a little tougher. It’s recovered from the trauma, but signs of it have never really gone away. And…” The magic lurched. It was rather like being on a ship, if Perry’s rising nausea was to be believed. He sank into the armchair and closed his eyes, hoping it would end before he retched all over Harrison’s carpet. “Oh,” Harrison breathed. “Oh, Perry. You are pregnant, aren’t you? I can feel it. How neat.”
“I’m sure you’re having a marvelous time, darling,” Perry said as cheerfully as he could, “but I am feeling a tad bit queasy. Would it be possible to wrap things up?”
“Oh, yes. Of course.”
The pool of magic inside of Perry, once free-flowing, collected in a very small and centralized place low in his body. Perry breathed out a sigh of relief. While the heat of Harrison’s magic was still somewhat uncomfortable, at least now he didn’t feel at risk of losing his lunch.
The magic remained stationary for a few minutes before Harrison spoke again. “Like I said before, I’m not a doctor, and I’m certainly not a reproductive specialist, but I think you do have some scar tissue. The problem is, magic can’t do much after an injury has already been healed, and it can’t fix any natural defects. It’s why Pavel needs his mechanical wing and leg brace, and why I still need glasses.”
Perry’s spirits sank. “So there’s nothing that can be done?”
“Well…” Harrison pushed his lips to the side. “I can try to use a little magic, just to see what it will do. It can’t hurt. The best-case scenario is that it changes something inside you that fixes the problem. The worst case is that it does nothing. Would you like me to try?”
“Please.”
“Okay. Get ready. Here I go.”
Perry had been healed with magic before, and even brought back from the brink of death thanks to its power. He had suffered through clumsy and painful attempts to knit wounds shut and, conversely, experienced how pleasant magic could be in the hands of an experienced user, but he had never felt any magic quite like this. It was a little clumsy, yes, but it was tentative and thoughtful instead of headstrong. Perhaps such was the difference between the power of a dragon and a dragonet.
In any case, the magic coalesced inside of him, shrinking down until it barely felt any larger than a pearl; burned hot and pulsed for a brief moment; then disappeared.
“There,” Harrison said cheerfully as he took his hand away. “I hope it helps.”
“As do I.”
Perry buttoned his blouse and, once Harrison had stepped out of the way, stood. Physically he didn’t feel any different than he had before, but there was hope in his heart now, and if nothing else, it alone was worth the risk.
“Do you promise to keep my secret?” Perry asked as Harrison saw him to the door. “The family doesn’t know—not even Grimbold—and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
Harrison nodded. “Of course. It’s a matter of doctor-patient confidentiality. Your secret is safe with me.”
Perry kissed his cheek, which turned a pretty shade of pink. “You are a true friend, Harry.”
Harrison lifted his hand to his cheek and smiled the same cheerful smile he always did. “Thank you. I really do try my best. But it’s not all that hard when I have friends like you.”