Until we bleed

By kyky13

Chapter 1

"I'm asking Blaylock to be my hellren."

Qhuinn was never one to waste an ounce of beer, especially an ice cold Corona, but

when those words slipped from between his cousin's well-defined lips, the sip he'd just
taken was spewed all over the flat screen and down the front of his hoodie. He coughed
and pounded on his chest, feeling as though someone had him in a chokehold. He
couldn't get any air in.

Or maybe that was just his fucking heart jammed in his oesophagus.

Yeah, that might've been it.

Saxton remained quiet from his spot by the pool table, looking like the dapper

sonofabitch he was in his plaid cardigan and slacks; blonde hair perfect and a glass of
Scotch in his hands.

"Are you all right?" He finally asked as Qhuinn stood to grab a handful of napkins from

the bar to clean himself up.

Qhuinn didn't reply as he wiped the napkins over his soaked black hoodie and down

the front of his jeans. He didn't trust himself to speak yet. The need to wrap his hands
around his cousin's throat was far too fucking great.

I'm asking Blaylock to be my hellren…

The words repeated themselves over and over in his head, and when Qhuinn finally

spoke, his voice was a low, dangerous, animalistic growl.

"Why the fuck would you tell me that?"

Saxton placed his glass on the edge of the pool table and strolled over, his loafers

barely making a whisper against the luscious carpeting. "I was hoping to get your
blessing," he said honestly.

"Fuck off."

"Is that a protest?" Saxton's voice wasn't the least bit cruel, which made Qhuinn want

to tear his hair out. "Because if you have an issue with my proposal, I'd like to hear it,
cousin."

Qhuinn growled. Damn right he had an issue with it. Damn right he had a problem with

this man proposing to Blay, binding himself to him, having his name carved into his back
for all eternity. It was bad enough he had already taken his virginity.

Qhuinn wanted, needed an excuse to drive his fist into that pretty face over and over

again, but his cousin wasn't giving him any openings. Saxton was a male of worth; a
genuine, kind, selfless soul.

Someone not like him.

Someone Blay deserved.

Fucking hell.

Qhuinn wiped his mouth dry with the napkin and pitched the thing into the trash,

turning away as the other male so patiently awaited his reply. He felt his heart going
batshit in his chest, slamming over and over again against his ribcage like it wanted to
break the fuck out and make a run for it.

Couldn't blame it.

It'd been months since he and Blay had said a word to each other. That male, the

male he'd known for years, the male he'd laughed with and fought with and grown up
with, lived just down the hall and yet he felt as though he was miles and miles away.
They had been best friends, and now… now, they were strangers.

It tore Qhuinn apart knowing he had let him go, but it had all been for Blay. The male

didn't know what he wanted to get himself into. Qhuinn was poison. He was dirt and
scum and nothing but a worthless sack of shit that was a complete and utter disgrace to
his family and their race. And Blay… Blay was warm and clean and beautiful. He was a
genuine male of worth.

He deserved every happiness in the world.

But, with Saxton?

"Well?" His cousin asked quietly from behind him.

What the fuck was he supposed to say? No, you don't have my blessing cause I'm

hopelessly in love with Blay even though I'm too much of a screwed up, defected little
pussy to ever admit it to him and now he hates my fucking guts for it?

Yeah, that rolled right off the tongue.

"I…" Qhuinn swallowed hard, throat dry. The words just would not come out.

Just then, Saxton came around to face Qhuinn, those warm blue eyes of his boring

into him with all that integrity and strength that he himself didn't possess.

"You remember what I told you." Saxton said. "That all you needed to do was say the

word, and I would step down? I still stand by it, but I'm not planning on waiting forever for
you to finally open your mouth, cousin."

Qhuinn tore his multicoloured gaze off his cousin's classically handsome face and

headed for the door, shaking his head. The thought of returning to the couch where his
beer and Xbox controller awaited him made him sick to his stomach. Too many nights

did him and Blay waste away the hours getting drunk and beating each other's asses at
Call of Duty and Guitar Hero.

Course, Blay would always kick his ass. He was good with his hands. Real good.

Okay, getting off that subject.

"Do whatever the fuck you want." Qhuinn felt like someone had kicked his heart in the

ass. "I don't care."

Saxton pressed. "Are you sure?"

"Would you just fuck off, already?" Qhuinn snapped just as he swung the door open

right into John Matthew's face. "Shit! Sorry, man, didn't see you there."

John stepped back, rubbing the spot on his nose where his friend had clocked him

with a whole lot of door. Shaking it off, he signed, You okay?

Ah, to lie or not to lie.

Wasn't that just the fucking theme of his life.

"I'm fine." Qhuinn grunted, pushing passed him. "Just fine."

Believe it or not, I'm not convinced, John frowned and peered back into the billiard

room. Once he realized who else had been in the room with Qhuinn, John's deep blue
eyes narrowed. You get into a fight with Sax? I heard you yelling at him.

"Can we not talk about this?" Qhuinn pushed his fingers back through his jet black

hair. Fuck, he needed a drink. Pronto.

How about you can the attitude and tell me what's got your panties in a bunch. John

looked unimpressed as he crossed his huge arms across his even huger chest.

"Dude, I am in no mood."

Dude, I don't care.

Qhuinn huffed, sliding his palms into the back pockets of his jeans as he stood in the

center of the mansion's grand entrance hall, his blue-green eyes cast upward at the
marvellous images of warriors on horseback painted all over the ceiling. To be in the
presence of such glorified warriors in the home of none other than the Black Dagger
Brotherhood, Qhuinn felt even more out of place.

He was a punk ass Goth boy with a shitload of piercings, a bad attitude, and a sex

addiction. Not to mention the pair of mismatched eyes that made him a disgrace to his
race.

He didn't belong anywhere. Not with his family among the glymera, and not with these

brave men who risked their asses every damn night defending their race. Qhuinn wasn't
brave. He couldn't even find the balls to tell his best friend how much he loved him.

Yeah, he was a real fuckin' winner.

When the familiar weight of John's huge hand fell upon his shoulder, Qhuinn was

snapped out of his thoughts and he forced himself to look back into his friend's face. His
features, chiselled and as handsome as they come, were filled with concern and the
promise of an ass kicking if Qhuinn didn't start spilling.

"After I work my ass to shit in the gym and get shitfaced drunk, we can talk. You

down?"

John wasn't happy, but he knew that was the best he was getting from his

friend. Fine, he signed. But, I'm sticking with you all night. I'm off tonight and Xhex went
to see Rehv, Trez, and iAm.

Qhuinn wished it differently. He wished John had rounds to do, that way he could join

him out in the field, getting busted up as they popped a few dozen lessers. He craved the
adrenaline rush and the pain that came with fighting. Anything to get his mind off the
bomb his dear cousin had so kindly dropped on him tonight.

But, wherever John went, he went. Those were the rules.

"Fine, fine…" Qhuinn headed for the door that led through the tunnel and into the

training center. "You're a fucking pain in the ass."

Said the kettle to the pot, John smirked.

The walk through the seemingly endless expanse of tunnel was quiet, the only sound

being their shitkickers making contact with the cold concrete. The fluorescent lights
buzzed above their heads and Qhuinn wished he hadn't left his open beer behind. He
would have loved to guzzle the thing right now.

I'm asking Blaylock to be my hellren.

Hellren…

Fuck.

Suddenly out of nowhere, he lost his balance, his shoulder colliding with the wall when

he staggered sideways as though he'd been shoved by some unseen force. Qhuinn felt
weakness run all up through his unusually quivering legs until it reached his heart and
held it in an iron grip. He slumped against the wall, John already at his side with blue
eyes as wide as saucers.

The fuck was that? John signed before gripping onto both of Qhuinn's huge arms to

steady him. He helped Qhuinn lower himself to sit on the floor.

Funny, Qhuinn was just about to ask the same question. He curled his fingers into his

t-

shirt, gripping the thing. He was panting. "Just… feels weird."

Something crossed John's face as though this was the kind of thing he'd seen before,

something he knew about firsthand. There was fear in his eyes.

Need me to call Doc Jane? John asked as he reached for his cell.

Qhuinn shook his hand and grabbed hold of John's thick wrist.

"No, just… I'm fine. I'm

fine."

With more effort than should've been needed, Qhuinn hauled his ass back up and he

stood upright with help from the wall. That ache never left his chest, and he rubbed it as
John watched with an expression that said it all.

Something was wrong.

"It's way too fucking quiet tonight." Vishous mumbled under his breath as his diamond

eyes pierced through the darkness of one of Caldwell's main roads.

Blay glanced across the alley to where the raven-haired warrior was standing, his fists

at his sides and his leathers bulging with enough weapons to take down an entire human
army singlehandedly. He, along with Butch and Rhage, stood out like black beacons
against the stark white snow that blanketed the streets and fluttered down from the skies
above. Blay looked no different, and the words V had spoken had already crossed his
mind many times tonight.

It was almost sunrise, and not a single lesser had shown up.

"This is a load of crap," Rhage cursed as he pushed his massive weight off the wall.

His gorgeous golden hair was a dishevelled mess from all the times tonight when he'd
ran his fingers through it due to frustration. "The fuck are they all hiding at? Was there
some fucking Convention for the Undead being held tonight?"

"Calm your tits, Hollywood." Vishous growled. "We can't just fucking stand here all

night, true? The sun is coming up in a few hours."

The leather covering Blay's body creaked as he shifted his weight to his other foot and

refolded his arms over his chest. He remained silent for the moment, listening to the
banter between the three Brothers as his mind worked through its own questions.

Maybe they'd hit a bad part of town. What if there were a dozen lessers on the eastern

side just waiting to get their asses poofed back to the Omega? What if some civilian was
in danger and they were all crammed in some alleyway like a bunch of idiots?

Why was Qhuinn still on his mind?

Ah, now that was a question he did not want to delve into. Fuck. That.

"Your lesser-senses tingling at all, cop?" He heard Rhage ask Butch.

"Not once. They ain't nearby, that's for sure."

Blay spoke up, which was a rarity for him when out in the field with the Brothers. "How

about we all jump in the car and head back to the mansion now, but take the long way?
We can keep looking, cover more ground, and still make it back in time to beat the sun."

The smallest hint of a smirk tugged on the corners of Vishous' lips. "I like the way you

think, kid."

"Least someone's thinking. Weren't you supposed to be the smart one, V?"

"Watch it, Rhage, unless you want my shitkicker shoved so far up your ass you'll be

tasting leather and road salt."

"I'm feeling the love here, guys." Butch grinned.

The Escalade was parked on the next street over, and the four of them were quick as

they headed back to it. It wouldn't be long before the sun's rays kissed the sky with grey
light, and they'd all be a blackened scorch mark on the pavement. It would have been
easier to dematerialize to the side street where V's ride was waiting under a thin dusting
of snow, but as Butch was a half breed and wasn't blessed with that ability, they all had
to hoof it.

"Shotgun!" Rhage called out.

Once V unlocked the Escalade with a quick press of a button, Blay grasped the ice

cold handle leading to the back seat, but didn't open the door. He was too busy staring at
Butch, who was frozen in place and staring off at nothing in particular.

"Cop?" Vishous paused just as half his enormous body was in the driver's seat. When

Butch's hazel eyes lifted, Vishous seemed to know what was doing by the darkness that
crossed his features. "How many?"

"Not many. Three or four." Butch frowned and looked up the road. "Can't tell where

they're coming from."

Blay reached into his leathers and fisted his handgun just as everyone else did the

same. He turned his nose to the wind, sniffing and hoping to catch that sickeningly sweet
stench of the enemy. There was no wind. The winter night was as still as death, so there
was nothing to carry the smell of baby powder to them.

"They're close…" Butch muttered.

It was the sudden blast from a gun that finally gave away the location of the

three lessers who were perched on the roof of a nearby building, but Blay didn't have a
second to react. His body jerked forward as the bullet went tearing right into him from
behind before escaping out through his chest.

Every ounce of breath was ripped from his lungs, and he watched as the world tipped

and turned as his body went crashing to the snow below.

"Blaylock!" Someone called out. He couldn't tell who.

All around him, chaos erupted. He could feel Vishous surround the place with mhis in

order to shield them from any passing humans, and the shouts from the Brothers were
inaudible under the blast of gunfire and the eventual pop of lessers being sent back to
the Omega. It was all a big jumble of noise and Blay understood none of it.

All he was focused on was the sickening warmth of his own blood soaking his shirt

and pooling on the ground around him.

There was suddenly someone on their knees beside him, and he felt a large hand

quickly cover the gaping wound in his chest. Judging from their size and the way they
spoke so softly to him in words he just couldn't hear, he knew it had to be one of the
Brothers.

Blay coughed, his own blood clogging his throat and spilling out from the side of his

mouth.

He was getting tired. Really fucking tired.

Just as he felt more hands come around him and effortlessly lift his body off of the

ground, he surrendered himself to the exhaustion and the darkness pulling him in.

His last thoughts were of Qhuinn.

Chapter 2

Back at the Brotherhood's mansion, Qhuinn was sitting on one of the blue mats in the

gym, his hand still clutched to his chest as he watched John beat the ever loving shit out
of a punching bag. The thing swung back with each blow John dished out, the chain
suspending it from the ceiling rattling loudly. They had both changed into their shorts and
Nike's for the workout, leaving their massive torsos bare.

The strange tightness in his chest hadn't gone away since that little stumble he took in

the tunnel, and now it was joined by a sunken hollow feeling in his gut. Qhuinn took
another swig from the water bottle he fisted in his free hand, but that did nothing to aid in
the emptiness.

It felt as though he swallowed a motherfucking boulder.

Shit, when was the last time he fed? Two weeks, maybe three? But, he'd been without

blood before. It never felt like this. Being hungry made you weak and exhausted and your
skin got all pale and cold.

This… this was a sunken emptiness.

And to top it all off? He was antsy as fuck. He wanted to get up and pace, hit things,

scream until his throat bled.

Course, that could have been cause he'd been imagining Blay and Saxton's mating

ceremony, the two of them cloaked in exquisite black silk and on their knees with their
heads bowed as each member of the Brotherhood would one by one carve each others
names into their backs.

"Blaylock, what is the name of your mate?"

"Saxton."

"Fuck!" Qhuinn pitched the water bottle across the room with all his might, watching it

bounce and spray its contents all over the mats and floor like one of those psycho kiddy
sprinklers you saw all over the TV during the summer months.

He raked his fingers back through his black hair and took a deep, albeit shaky breath.

God, how he wanted to scream.

John came over and snatched up a spare water bottle, his sleek chest rising and

falling with his panted breaths and dripping with sweat. As he emptied the bottle, he eyed
Qhuinn through his matted black hair with that same concern that he'd seen in the tunnel.

You good, man? He signed.

"Just fucking stellar, bud." Qhuinn stood and went over to the bag, steadying its swing

with his hand.

You make a convincing argument. John rolled his eyes.

"Fuckin' A." Qhuinn grumbled. "Can we just stop focusing on me for a minute? I need

something to hit or I'm gonna lose it."

John planted his ass on the blue mat and watched him with his forearms rested on his

knees. When was the last time you fed?

"John. Buddy. I will punch you if you keep interrogating me."

All he got in response to that was John's middle finger. You almost collapsed in the

tunnel and you're getting pissed at me for being worried?

"I don't need to be mothered." Qhuinn positioned his feet and swung, his fist meeting

the bag with enough force to drive it back. Before the thing could make a full swing back
towards him, he hit it again and again, the muscles in his shoulders and back taut and
flexed and oozing power. He was a killing machine, with or without his weapons.

And still, he felt like the biggest pussy known to their kind.

I'm going to call on Layla as soon as we're done here, and you're going to sit that

sorry ass of yours down and feed. John bared his teeth in a silent but no less threatening
growl. You got an issue with that, you can take it up with Wrath. I'm sure he'll be thrilled
to know the guy sworn to protect me is too weak to join me out on the field.

"Just so you know, I'm picturing that mug of yours right on the front of this bag."

John just smirked and settled back, his arms stretched out behind him and palms

flattened.

That was the end of that argument, and Qhuinn put all his focus on his blows. Left

punch, right punch, left, right, uppercut, left, left, right. Over and over again until his
knuckles hurt just as much as his heart did.

Letting out all his frustrations on good ol' Mr. Bag, he tuned out the world and hardly

paid any notice to the commotion that suddenly erupted outside in the hall. John, though,
was on his feet in a matter of seconds and headed for the door. He peered out into the
hall, strengthening the sound of shouts and heavy footfalls.

And that smell…

Blood.

Qhuinn paused and glanced up, only to catch John shutting the door, muffling the

noise once more. Every bit of colour was drained from his face, and he looked like he
would be the next one to give the ground a hug.

"John…" Qhuinn was stuck in place, dread washing over his body like nausea. "John,

what's going on?"

His friend stared across the expanse of blue mats and met his eyes, and the amount

of fear that filled them nearly brought Qhuinn to his knees. He breathed only one single
word:

"Who?"

John didn't sign; just mouthed the name:

Blay.

The gym door was nearly torn off its hinges as Qhuinn burst through them, knocking

John back as he ran at full clip down the tunnel and toward the OR. He nearly collided
with the wall, but he held his hands out in front of him to stop his face from kissing the
concrete blocks. His Nike's pounded the concrete like the sound of a hammerhead
striking stone, muscles burning and heart pounding in his ears. John was right at his
heels.

He didn't slow when he reached the doors to the OR, tearing them open just enough

to slam right into Rhage's massive body. Qhuinn stumbled back, but was quickly caught
by John.

The scene before him was a nightmare.

Blood. There was blood everywhere. It dotted the tiled floor and was spattered all over

Rhage and Butch. Vishous and Ehlena were scrambling around the room, throwing on
scrubs and wheeling over carts filled with medical supplies as Doc Jane shouted her
orders. The human was already donned in her hospital attire, and continued to call out to
her hellren and nurse as she took a pair of scissor's to Blay's leathers.

Oh… shit… no…

Blay was sprawled on his back on the operating table, his soft skin drained of its

colour. Blood was running down the corners of those full, perfect lips, and his clothes…
fuck, his clothes were drenched in blood. As Jane tossed the shredded leathers to the
floor, not only did Qhuinn get a better view of just how much blood there really was, but
he also caught sight of the gaping hole in his best friend's chest.

"Blay…" He choked.

His eyes

were closed, but he couldn't have been dead. No… no, he couldn't have

been. If he was dead, they wouldn't have been rushing to save him. It would have
already been too late.

Unconscious… yeah, yeah, he was unconscious…

Oh, holy mother of God he was going to be sick.

"Rhage, get them out of here!" Jane shouted as she wheeled over a heart monitor and

immediately hooked it up to Blay.

The stunning blonde Brother locked onto Qhuinn's eyes with his own luminous teal

peepers. Oh, shit, Blay's blood was all over his cheek. "You boys are gonna have to get
out."

"Who. Did. This." Qhuinn snarled, baring his elongated fangs.

He'd kill them. He'd fucking kill them.

"Easy." Rhage put a hand on Qhuinn's chest with the intention of calmly backing him

out of the room, but Qhuinn stood as firm as a rooted tree. Rhage frowned, his jaw
cocking to the side. "Lessers."

"I'll fucking kill them."

"No need. We popped 'em back to where they came from." Rhage tried another gentle

shove. Still, Qhuinn wouldn't budge. "Boy, you're gonna have to move your ass before I
move it for you."

"I'm not leaving him." Qhuinn's tone was dangerous, as was the sudden dark scent

that rose up from his bare chest.

Rhage must've caught a whiff of those dark spices, because he looked as

dumbfounded as if someone had suddenly bitch slapped him.

Oh, shit… Qhuinn thought.

Just as the blonde Brother opened his mouth to question it, the sudden frantic beeping

from the machines shut him right up. They all whipped around just in time to see Vishous
wheel the crash cart to Jane's side.

"Fuck, he's coding!" Jane cursed and picked up the paddles.

"No, no, no, no…" Qhuinn breathed and stepped forward, but Rhage's huge arm came

up to block him. He clutched onto it. "No, Blay, no..."

He watched as the good Doctor charged up the paddles by rubbing them together and

everyone stepped back from the table. "Clear!" She shouted before placing the paddles
onto Blay's chest and shooting him with enough volts to jolt his huge body right up.

There was a pause.

"Nothing." Vishous growled. "Again!"

Jane charged up the paddles once more, all the while cursing to the ceiling. "Fuck!

C'mon, Blaylock, stay with us!"

Stay with me… Qhuinn repeated over and over again in his head. Stay with me, Blay.

"Clear!"

Another jolt, another pause.

"Nothing." Vishous said a little softer this time.

"No!" Qhuinn called over to the motionless body on the table, charging forward until

Rhage caught him around the waist. Even Butch stepped forward to help hold him back.
"Don't you dare leave me, Blaylock! Don't you dare die on me!"

Jane looked defeated. "Guys, get him out."

"Don't you fucking touch me!" Qhuinn roared at the two much larger Brothers. "One

more time! Do it once more!"

Vishous shook his head. "Qhuinn…"

"What if it was Jane on that table." Qhuinn met the diamond eyes of the goateed

Brother and glared. "What if it was Jane?"

The Bonding scent had filled the entire room by this time, the spices drowning out the

sterile scent of Lysol and metal. By how still everyone was standing, there was no telling
whose scent was stronger: Qhuinn's or Vishous', but the glare held between the two
males was enough to make the air around them crackle with power.

Bonded males were a dangerous thing when their mates were threatened, whether

physically or hypothetically.

After seconds, Vishous was the one who broke the gaze. "Once more."

"Vishous…" Jane frowned at her hellren.

"Once. More." He snarled.

The blonde female didn't protest a second time, and she looked just as determined to

make this miracle happen as the rest of them. A female of worth, indeed. She charged
up the paddles a third time, though Qhuinn could scent her dread and worry from clear
across the room.

"Clear!" One more electric volt was sent right through Blay's chest.

Please… please… I love you…

The pause that followed seemed to go on for hours.

"We got something!" Ehlena's voice broke the intense silence.

Qhuinn's knees buckled and he slumped forward, Rhage and Butch's arms being the

only thing to hold him up. There. Yes, there it was. Qhuinn listened as the heart monitor
calmed and began that even, rhythmic beeping, and he had to clench his eyes tightly
when he felt the sting of tears he wouldn't dare cry in front of anyone.

"Now," Vishous looked just about ready to burn the whole place down. "Get the fuck

out while we try to save your boy."

Qhuinn didn't resist this time as Rhage and Butch roughly shoved him backwards,

leading him out of the OR and up against the hallway wall right outside. Butch locked his
forearm across Qhuinn's throat without hesitation and pinned him in place, his eyes
blazing.

"You got a lot of balls." He said through clenched teeth.

Qhuinn coughed and gripped at the leather on the massive arm blocking his airway.

"The fuck you talking

—"

"That had been Jane, you dipshit." The cop snapped. "Don't you fucking remember?

Jane ain't exactly amongst the living anymore. At one point, she had been in Blay's
place. She'd been the lifeless one lying front of her helpless mate."

Shit.

"Aw, fuck, I…" Qhuinn wanted to kick himself in the nads. "Butch, I'm sorry."

He released Qhuinn roughly and took a step backward. "I'm not the one you should be

apologizing to, man. Vishous was just about ready to bite your head off in there. Don't be
surprised if he saves it for later."

Qhuinn rubbed at his throat and exchanged a worried look with John.

"Can't say it's entirely your fault, though." Butch's tone was much softer this time. "Any

Bonded male would have gone apeshit if they saw their mate in that state."

"He's not my mate." Qhuinn swallowed and looked away.

"That's not what your body is telling us, my man." Rhage chimed in. "Your Bonding

scent is flaring."

Qhuinn turned away and rubbed the back of his neck. "He's…"

Mine.

"…he's not my mate. Okay? Now, just come off it."

There were no more words spoken after that, and Qhuinn began to pace the hallway

outside the OR, trying desperately not to throw himself back in there whenever he heard
Vishous curse or Jane call for the paddles again. He rubbed at the spot on his chest
where that clenching refused to cease.

What the fuck was he gonna do if Blay didn't survive this?

Yeah… okay, not gonna think about that. He had to hold onto the wall while his

stomach churned and threatened to coat his sparkling new Nike's with what remained of
First Meal.

Qhuinn pressed his forehead to the cold concrete and closed his eyes, forcing himself

to calm the fuck down. John stood close, but he was thankful his friend didn't lay a hand
on him. He didn't know what he'd do if he was touched right now.

That urge to scream came right back again.

Hours passed. Three to be exact, and there was still no update from beyond those

doors. Rhage and Butch had left already to get cleaned up and return to bed with
their shellans. John, however, hadn't budged for a moment. He was sitting against the
wall, one leg stretched out and one bent with his arm draped across his knee. He
watched quietly as Qhuinn practically wore a hole into the concrete with his excessive
pacing.

"This is taking too long…" Qhuinn muttered, more to himself than to John.

John's low whistle brought Qhuinn's head around, and he patted the cold ground

beside him, inviting his friend to sit. There was hesitation.

You look like you're about to pass out, John signed, and considering what's doing

behind those doors, I'd rather not have you get a concussion from hitting the floor.

Qhuinn was too exhausted to fight, and he planted his ass next to his buddy, fingers

raking through his hair as he buried his face in his hands.

"Fuck, Blay…" He took a breath. "Shit."

John tapped him on the knee to get his attention, and then signed, So it's true? You

have the same feelings for Blay?

Leave it to good ol' Johnny Boy to bring that shit up at a time like this.

He hadn't told anyone but Layla up until now, but considering the way his body had

naturally reacted in there, it wasn't as much of a secret anymore.

"Yeah," was all he could choke out.

Does he know? John frowned.

"No." Qhuinn leaned back, the cold concrete against his back calming him somewhat.

"And he's not going to."

John looked downright furious at that news. Why the fuck not?

"Because I'm not the one for him." Qhuinn wrung his fingers together and tried

preoccupying his mind with examining the bruises the punching bag had left on his
knuckles.

That's when John got a firm hold of his jaw and yanked his face around to stare into

his eyes. Those deep blues of his were blazing. You're a fucking idiot for thinking that.
Do you have any idea how he looks at you?

"Looked, my man. Looked. Past tense. He doesn't do that anymore."

That's where you're wrong.

Qhuinn growled and threw his hands up in defeat. "What the fuck do you want me to

do, John? Tell him I've loved him from the start, and that all those whores I fucked in
front of him were just to get him mad so he could hate me and move on? Tell him I'm
poison and he's an idiot for falling for me in the first place?"

John raised a brow. That's exactly what you should say. Minus the idiot thing, of

course. That's just crossing the line, given what the guy's going through.

"Assuming he su

rvives…" Qhuinn's voice wavered and he cleared his throat. "I'm not

good enough, John, and I don't understand how no one sees that."

Cause it's not true. John's expression softened. And no one understands why you

don't see that.

Qhuinn shook his head and looked away, hoping to blink away that damn moisture

dancing on his dark lashes. He discretely rubbed them dry. "No point in delving further
into this shit, anyways. My chances are done."

How so?

The Bonding scent flared up strongly. "Saxton is gonna propose."

John's brows shot up. Shit.

"Yeah."

Just then, the doors to the OR opened and Vishous stepped out, his scrubs painted in

streaks and spatters of beautiful crimson. Qhuinn and John shot to their feet
simultaneously and, given the expression on the Brother's face, they both held their
breath.

"He's stable," Vishous began once he pulled the surgical mask off his face. "The bullet

caused extensive damage to the flesh around his heart, and one of his lungs collapsed.
We repaired as much as we could for now, but he's lost a lot of blood. We had no time to
call in a Chosen, so we had Ehlena feed him to keep him alive."

Shit, that wasn't going to go well with Rehvenge.

As if reading his mind, V added, "We called Rehv, and he said it was cool. He trusts

Blay, considering the way the guy swings, and since he's not here to see the actual
feeding happen, we wouldn't have to worry about his Bonding instincts going batshit."

All Qhuinn could do was nod, his mouth too dry to allow words to escape. Damn,

Rehvenge was an even better guy than he first thought. What a male of worth that was.

"We're still not out of the woods, yet." Vishous added grimly. "Jane's currently working

on Blay's chest, but we'll have to keep an eye on him for a while. He crashed twice more
since you boys left."

John's hand came to the small of Qhuinn's back, offering support in case he was

going to pass out. Qhuinn almost wanted to. He even swayed.

"Fuck." Qhuinn murmured.

"We're not done with him, yet. Got a few more hours ahead of us, so you boys should

go get some rest."

Qhuinn's multicoloured gaze flashed. "Not leaving."

Vishous only grunted. "I have to head back in, but I just thought you boys deserved an

update."

John signed, Thank you, V.

Qhuinn had to nod. "Yeah, I… thanks, man. For everything." He rubbed the back of

his head. Shit, he wasn't good at this. "Listen, about what I said earlier… I didn't—"

"I know." Vishous frowned.

He felt a little more at ease. "So, we good?"

A sudden fist colliding with his face sent Qhuinn soaring backward, landing on the cold

concrete with a grunt. He groaned and sat up on his elbows, rubbing the spot on his jaw
where Vishous had clocked him. He wouldn't have been surprised if he opened his eyes
and found little blue birds circling his head like a goddamn Looney Tunes character.

Fuck, that hurt.

The Brother smirked and rubbed his obviously sore knuckles before slipping back into

the OR. "Now, we are."

Once alone, Qhuinn caught John's gaze. "Yeah, shut the fuck up. I know I deserved

that."

He resumed his position seated against the wall, but when John made a move to

follow, he lifted his hand to stop him.

"No, you go get some sleep. Xhex is probably waiting for you."

John's mouth twitched. You sure? I'm cool with staying, you know. Xhex won't be

mad.

"Nah, I'm fine. You go. I'll text you if there's any update."

The other male nodded and clasped hands with him in a silent but meaningful

farewell, before turning and jogging down the tunnel. Qhuinn listened to the sound of his
Nike's fading away, until silence fell and all he was left with was his thoughts.

He shifted in his spot, got comfortable, focused on the doors across from him…

And waited.

Chapter 3

Qhuinn's brow drew tightly together and he mumbled softly in his sleep, though

whatever came out of his mouth was a load of gibberish to anyone within earshot of his
slumped body. The memories, the voices, like someone was holding down the rewind
button of his life, were pouring into his mind in a chaotic jumble that he so desperately
tried to piece together.

"You don't look at me anymore."

"Yes, I do."

He didn't, did he? Qhuinn couldn't recall. No matter how much he tried to delve into

those scattered memories, no matter how much he tried desperately to grasp at, he
couldn't ever recall his best friend's beautiful blue eyes turning in his direction and
looking at him in that special way again. Not since the night on the balconies when he
had made the decision to let their cherished friendship go.

"Do you have any idea how he looks at you?"

"Looked, my man. Looked. Past tense. He doesn't do that anymore."

"That's where you're wrong."

Had he been? Had Blay been looking at him the whole time? Had he just… missed it?

Had he been too focused on his own goddamn misery to see it?

Jesus, fuck.

And after tonight… would Blay ever get the chance to look at him again?

"Hey, bozo, you awake?"

Qhuinn groaned and slowly lifted his head, which now felt as though it weighed even

more than his body did. His vision was a blur and he blinked rapidly as the memories
being replayed in his mind's eye vanished, and everything came into focus again. There
was a pair of shitkickers in front of him, and he lifted his head

—while at the same time

trying not to whimper like a woman at the sharp kink in his neck

—to meet a set of

diamond eyes.

"Barely," he groaned, squinting at the fluorescent lighting.

Vishous smirked. "I commend you, kid, for actually staying out here all this time. It's

been six hours."

Qhuinn gripped his jaw in his hand and turned his head sharply left and right, the

cracking easing the tension in his spine. "Oh, is that all?" he grumbled.

"You could've waited in a recovery room, you know. There are chairs and beds in

there."

Reaching behind him, Qhuinn gripped onto the shallow joints between the concrete

blocks and slowly lifted his weight off the cold floor, his legs shaky but thankfully stable
enough to keep him upright.

Fuck, he felt as though he'd been run over by a bus. Twice.

And he really wanted to scream at whoever had moved into his cranium while he slept

and turned on the goddamn jackhammer. Sonofabitch.

"I didn't want to be far." Qhuinn said, rubbing his temples. "Y'know… just in case."

"Hm. You talk in your sleep, by the way."

Qhuinn frowned and rubbed his messy black hair. "I know."

He finally regained his focus enough to finally notice that Vishous was no longer

donned in his bloodstained scrubs. The goateed Brother was back in his leather pants
and a tight black muscle shirt. The scent of Turkish tobacco wafting off his body told
Qhuinn that he must've been smoking just moments before.

"How…" he looked passed Vishous at the OR doors. "…how is he?"

Vishous pulled out another hand rolled and his Bic lighter, taking his sweet time in

replying to the other male's question as he lit up. After a deep drag and a slow release of
spiced smoke, he jabbed his thumb down the hall.

"He's in the recovery room right now. Jane's in there with him, setting up his IV,

catheter and heart monitor. Your boy's still out like a light, but that could just be cause of
the amount of drugs we pumped into him to keep him from flat lining."

Qhuinn felt a sudden ease in the clench of his chest, as though whatever unseen

bastard that had his heart in a vice grip had finally decided to let go. His shoulders
sagged and he released a deep breath.

"So, he's going to be okay?"

Vishous blew out a smoke ring that danced gracefully up to the ceiling. "Assuming we

did everything right, yeah. And assuming he heals properly, yeah. We won't be able to
tell for a few days." He shook his head. "There was a lot of damage, my man."

Qhuinn nervously rubbed the palms of

his hands on his shorts. "Can I… see him?"

"Nothing's stopping you." Vishous smashed out his hand rolled on the sole of his

shitkicker and motioned down the hall. "It's the farthest one on the left. Try not to make
too much noise, true? My shellan is tired and I need to take her up to bed."

Probably to exhaust her further, Qhuinn thought to himself as he caught a whiff of

those dark spices rising from V's body.

"Thanks, man. Like, really. Thank you. I know I've probably said it a dozen times

tonight, but..."

"You can quit the mushiness, boy. We're not on fucking Oprah." V grinned and

dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Move your ass."

Qhuinn didn't hesitate; turning and making a mad dash down the tunnel to where the

recovery rooms were held. His heart pounded madly in his chest and his headache was
long forgotten. As he jogged, he pulled his cell phone out of the back pocket of his shorts
and thought it best to keep his promise.

He texted John:

Blay's gud. Recovering. Will keep u updtd.

The response was almost instantaneous:

Thx. Will come dwn 2 C him l8er.

Qhuinn smiled and slipped his phone back into his shorts, his pace slowing as he

came upon the recovery rooms. The hall was narrow and dark. All the doors were
closed, save for the one that Vishous had directed him to, and light poured out from the
open doorway. Qhuinn stopped short of coming to it and took a deep breath.

Fuck, he was nervous.

He could scent Doc Jane just inside the room, and as slowly as he could, took a step,

and then another, until he was finally able to peer inside.

His heart stopped dead.

Blay was resting on a gurney, his soft red hair spilling out over the plush white pillow.

From what Qhuinn could see, his friend wasn't wearing a single thing under the white
sheet that covered him up to his heavily bandaged chest. The thin material rose and fell
with each contour of his magnificent body. There wasn't much colour back in his cheeks,
but it was a hell of a lot better than it had been before.

His eyes were closed, and his breathing was deep and even. That was a good thing.

Yeah, a very good thing.

That heart was still beating. Those lungs were still breathing.

He was still with him.

Jane was hovering over Blay's form, her ethereal body transparent save for her

delicate and talented hands, which were busy hooking an IV into the male's thick
forearm. It seemed she knew Qhuinn was just standing at the door like a dumbass.

"Are you going to come in or continue gawking?" Her dark green eyes lifted and she

smirked, though tiredly.

Qhuinn was having a hard time finding his voice behind the lump in his throat. "Y-

yeah, I'll… um…"

C'mon, dumbass. You know the drill. Left foot, right foot, and repeat.

When his stupid body finally decided to listen to his brain, Qhuinn had made the

agonizing journey from the doorway and to Blay's side, and was now clutching onto the
railing of the gurney until his knuckles turned white.

Oh sweet mother of all that is good, look at him.

Every wave of red hair, every freckle, every long eyelash… it had been months since

he'd been this up close to his best friend, and it felt as though he was looking at him for
the very first time. The details of his elegant face were captivating. That chiselled jaw,
those cheekbones…

Oh… God… those lips…

He wasn't even aware of how strongly the Bonding scent was exploding off his body

until the blonde female took step back and fanned the air.

"You're as bad as Vishous gets with the whole walking-air-freshener thing."

Qhuinn choked out what was meant to be a laugh, but with the lump in his throat, it

sounded like a demented half-cough, half-squawk more than anything else.

Ouch, said his dignity.

He cleared his throat and straightened his back, trying to ignore the way the good

Doctor was smirking.

"You should be proud of yourself for pushing us on back there," Jane said softly as

she made quick work of checking Blay's heartbeat through her stethoscope. "If you
hadn't, we would not be here right now."

"I know," Qhuinn muttered, not wanting to think about it.

"He owes you his life." Jane said.

Qhuinn's eyes locked on that flawless freckled face, and he whispered his response in

the Old Language while his fingers brushed against the sheet falling over the edge of the
bed. He wanted so badly to touch him.

"You'll have to say that again. I don't speak bloodsucker." Came Jane's voice, and he

could tell by the tone of it that she was grinning.

Qhuinn didn't look up. "I said he owes me nothing. Never has, never will."

Once Jane was done, she draped her stethoscope around the back of her neck. "He

needs to rest. How about you go upstairs, take a shower, get something to eat and come
back? You look like you've just slept on a concrete floor for six hours."

His grip around

the gurney's railing tightened, if that were possible. "I don't…"

"He'll be fine, Qhuinn." There was sternness in her voice. "Go shower and eat and put

some damn clothes on. I promise he's not going anywhere."

By how quickly the air was filled with dark spices, it was clear that Qhuinn didn't want

to budge, but he knew that Jane would keep riding his ass until he did what she told him.

"Can I have a minute with him? Just one and I'll go."

Like the female of worth she was, Jane nodded and glided out of the room, leaving

Qhuinn alone with the sound of the beeping heart monitor and the soft breaths of the
male before him. She was probably waiting in the hall right outside, but he trusted her
enough to know she wouldn't be listening in.

Hands trembling like a motherfucker, he reached up and ran just the very tips of his

fingers through Blay's thick hair, the red strands catching the light like glinting copper. He
was completely unaware that with each touch, no matter how light, more of his Bonding
scent flared and filled the air with those possessive spices.

With as much care as he could muster in that big body of his, Qhuinn slowly leaned in,

one of his elbows resting next to the pillow while his fingers remained entangled in soft
red locks.

"You look like shit, buddy," he whispered, though he was blatantly lying. "Though, you

are a lot prettier than most people are after they get taken down by lessers, so bravo."

He didn't know why he was trying to crack jokes. It's not like Blay could hear him. But

something inside him kept wanting to go right back to the beginning, where they had
been inseparable. Best friends whose only worries were what club they were going to hit
next and who topped the leader board in Guitar Hero.

Joking around just… made it seem as though nothing had changed between them.

Qhuinn looked up at the heart monitor and, with the palm of his hand gently rested

against Blay's broad chest he listened to those beeps fall in sync with the rhythmic
thudding under his hand.

He did this. He was the reason this heart started up again.

Mine.

He tried ignoring that word as it kept arising in his mind. What the fuck was he

thinking? Blay was not his. Blay was…

Nope. Not gonna think about that. The possessive growl that started to build in his

chest was warning enough that he was close to snapping had he let the thought unfurl.

"You're gonna be all right, you hear me?" He stared down and studied Blay's features,

not realizing that his words were more of a plead than a statement. "In no time, you'll be
on your feet again and in the field with the boys. It'll be like nothing happened."

When Blay started to stir, Qhuinn held his breath, expecting those baby blues to flutter

open and look up at him in that special way again. But, all he got was a soft sigh and a
slight turn of a head.

And didn't that just about make his knees go weak.

Blay was leaning right into his hand.

"Damn it…" Qhuinn rubbed his damp eyes with his knuckles. "You're making me go

soft, you bastard."

Gingerly, he moved his hand down, so that it was cupping Blay's face instead of just

being pinned down by it. His cheeks were regaining their soft flush and warmth. Knowing
he had to get his ass out before Doc Jane dragged him by his nipple rings, he leaned in
further and brushed his lips over Blay's ear.

"I'm going to be back soon, and then I'm not leaving your side." His breath washed

over his friend's ear as he whispered, and he tried desperately not to breathe in his
scent. "I'm not gonna lose you again, Blay."

Pulling a move that was a mixture of Sleeping Beauty and total dumbass, he dragged

his mouth over Blay's cheek and, with the softest butterfly touch, made lips meet lips.

God, they were just as soft and sweet as he remembered…

The kiss lasted no more than a second or two, much to his dismay, and Qhuinn

reluctantly pulled away and stepped back from the gurney. He lingered for a few
moments longer, before finally dragging his ass out of the room and returning upstairs.

The warmth of Blay's cheek still lingered on his palm.

When Blay slipped back into consciousness, the strength to move his arms and legs,

or speak, or even open his eyes was drained right out of his body. His head was a
clouded mess, and his bones felt so light, he wouldn't have been surprised if he was
floating.

He was vaguely aware of a humming pain in his chest, and that every intake of breath

brought with it a sharp sting. Something next to him was beeping non-stop, and there
was the faintest rustle of fabric nearby, as though someone had taken a step or risen
from a chair.

Why the hell was he so tired?

There was something else… a scent; strong, and rich and spiced. It was invading his

nose and every sense until nothing but it existed. He had scented it once before,
triggered it once before. A flush of warmth suddenly enveloped his entire body from the
inside out, as though a furnace had suddenly been turned on right at his core.

He wanted that scent on him. All over every inch of him. Even inside. And considering

he was still a loyal love struck fuck, he knew exactly whose scent it was, which didn't
change a thing. Which meant…

Yup. He was dead.

There was no other explanation for it. He'd been shot through the chest by

a lesser God only knew how long ago, and had blacked out, only to come awake with the
Bonding scent of the only male he ever truly loved all over his body.

Ignored by your best friend one minute, and then marked by him the next.

Dead. Dead, dead, dead.

And now here he was: trapped in this pit of darkness with a pain in his chest and the

inability to move or speak or even see. Fuck, the Fade was a cruel place.

Suddenly, he felt a large, warm hand come to rest on his brow, and he shifted slightly,

his voice returning as a low, groggy groan.

"Qhuinn…"

As if on cue, his eyes finally decided to get their asses in gear and open. The first

thing that hit him was all the white. That was a lot of fucking white. This wasn't
necessarily an oddity. The Fade was supposed to be white, wasn't it? But, as his vision
refocused itself, he realized it wasn't a blinding white light he was st

aring into… it was a

wall. A stark white wall.

A hospital wall.

And when he turned his head toward the figure he saw out of his peripheral, he

expected to see exactly who he wanted to see; the one whose heavy scent still invaded
his senses. He wanted to see those gorgeous mismatched eyes again

—

Or not.

"You're awake." Saxton's voice was soft and devoid of much emotion.

Blay blinked slowly. That was really the only response he had.

He was alive. It had all been a dream. Just a dream.

Why could he still smell those spices?

"I came down as soon as I could," Saxton continued, his hand still affectionately

rested on Blay's brow. "I would have been here sooner, but Vishous wouldn't allow me
anywhere near the OR until he was done."

Blay swallowed and opened his mouth to speak, but Saxton shook his head.

"Don't." That's when the emotion returned to Saxton's voice, clogging it until he had to

very elegantly turn away and subtly clear his throat. "I'm just… relieved that you're all
right, now."

Saxton was being distant, and not because he was upset.

He was heeding the warning.

Holy. Shit.

Blay couldn't just lay there in silence like some tool, while the Bonding scent of

another male hovered in the air around him like a protective shield.

He was just as confused about it as Saxton was.

Weakly, his hand found the blonde's and closed over it, squeezing it with as much

strength as he could muster. Saxton seemed to ease at the contact, but the questions,
the accusations, were all still present in his warm blue eyes.

"Nothin

g…" Blay's voice was gravelly. "…Nothing happened, Saxton. I don't even…

understand… I've been unconscious…"

"Shh." The other male lightly caressed the side of Blay's face. "You're not the one I am

accusing, Blaylock. I will find out all the answers myself but, in the meantime, I want you
to just rest."

Blay did not want to 'just rest'.

He wanted to get his ass out of this bed and find out the truth for himself. He wanted

to find wherever Qhuinn was lurking in this mansion and shove him against the wall and
demand to know why all of a sudden this male… this fucking bastard of a male who had
pushed him away… this male who he was still hopelessly in love with… had Bonded with
him.

What the fuck changed?

"I've an appointment to tend to tonight, but I shall return in a few hours." Saxton

stepped away and picked up his elegant black briefcase. "Take care, all right?"

Blay expected the usual kiss goodbye, but all he received was a brief smile before the

other male disappeared out the door.

He sat there in shock.

"W

hat… the fuck…"

Alone with only his thoughts as company, Blay leaned back into the pillow and

focused his attention on the tiled ceiling. Out of frustration, he ran his tongue over his dry
lips…

And moaned.

Oh… God, Qhuinn was on his lips. His rich spicy flavour, even stronger that the

lingering scent in the air, was all over his mouth. Qhuinn had touched his lips.

As Blay risked another stroke of his tongue, he released another groan and tensed,

the taste sending jolts of pleasure shooting straight down to his cock. His teeth gritted

and he gasped, his fangs elongating as he imagined his friend's skilled mouth on every
inch of him, kissing, sucking, biting.

Marking.

"Fuck…" Blay grit his teeth together and slipped his hand down beneath the sheets.

His cock was hard as diamond as it rested against his belly and was already weeping for
release. He knew he probably shouldn't be doing this, given where he was and how he
was feeling, but he also couldn't just leave it as is and risk Doc Jane walking in and
spotting his pitched tent.

Long fingers wrapped around his shaft and gripped tightly while his other hand slipped

further down and cupped the twin weights hanging just below. His breathing quickened, a
light sheen of sweat already developing on his bare skin. His broad shoulders curled and
his hips lifted when he began the quick strokes, rocking in unison with his pumping fist.

Shit, he was gonna blow.

The flavour on his lips and the scent in the air was enough aid to help him picture

Qhuinn right there with him, those mismatched eyes hungry and devouring every last
inch of Blay as he got himself off.

He pictured Qhuinn's rough, dark, delicious voice ordering him to say his name as he

came.

And he did.

Chapter 4

Freshly showered, shaved, and sporting his usual faded jeans and Metallica t-shirt,

Qhuinn shouldered his way into the kitchen just in time to see Fritz pull a honey glazed
ham out of the oven. The scent of it, along with roasted sweet potatoes and a green
bean casserole, made his stomach clench and growl in hunger.

And holy shit, was that a toffee apple pie cooling on the counter?

Must. Not. Stare. At. It.

It had been, what… a good day, day and a half since he ate, and his stomach was

pissed off as fuck. It wanted to be filled, and it wanted it now.

"Ah, Master Qhuinn," the doggen smiled softly, setting the tray containing the ham on

top of the stove. "How may I be of service?"

Qhuinn rubbed his palms together, his mouth watering. "I'm gonna need two things

from you, Fritz my man."

Fritz straightened and positively beamed, ever thrilled with being given more work to

do.

"I'll need a plate of food." He motioned to the ham and all the fixings. "Early dinner for

me."

The doggen bowed slightly. "As you wish. Shall I bring it to your room?"

"No need. I just need the plate done up and I'll eat it now." Qhuinn walked around the

huge island in the middle of the kitchen, his fingertips running along the polished marble
counter top. "The second thing is… um… what would you recommend giving someone
who is sick to eat?"

Fritz looked worried. "Sick, sire?"

"Ah…" Qhuinn rubbed the back of his still damp hair. "Well, not so much as sick as…

recovering. Like, from surgery? What would you give someone who needed something
light so it agrees with all the pain meds?"

Fritz slowly slipped the flowered oven mitts off of his aged hands and set them neatly

upon the counter. He regarded Qhuinn for a few moments before speaking.

"Forgive me if I am overstepping my place, Master Qhuinn, but would this have

anything to do with Master Blaylock?"

Qhuinn paused and gaped, taken off guard. "…You know what happened?"

"The entire mansion does, sire." Fritz proceeded preparing Qhuinn's plate of dinner.

"We are all so thankful that he pulled through. Has he awoken, yet?"

"Not yet, but the pain meds should wear off anytime now." Qhuinn nodded and picked

up the platter of green bean casserole, holding out to the doggen. Fritz looked somewhat
flustered at the sight of being assisted by a member of the household that he had sworn
to serve, but he made no protest and took the platter with a smile.

"So, what do you think he'd like?" Qhuinn asked.

Fritz thought a moment. "I could prepare some warm oatmeal with pieces of fresh

apples and raisins. It is light enough to keep his stomach at ease, but it will fill him up."

"That'd be great, thanks."

"I'll get to it immediately, Master Qhuinn."

As Fritz did his thing, firing up fresh oatmeal in a pot on the stove and chopping up

small pieces of apple, Qhuinn dragged his plate of food across the counter and dug in.
The ham and green beans were devoured, but he only picked at the sweet potatoes. He
was never a big fan of them. Once he was done, he placed the plate in the sink and
snatched up a piece of pie to take with him back down to the recovery room.

The oatmeal smelled really good as Fritz spooned some in a bowl and topped it with

even more apple pieces and raisins. He placed the bowl on a silver tray along with
polished silver cutlery, freshly folded napkins, and a glass of water.

There was something about bringing Blay food, keeping him well fed and cared for in

his time of weakness that made Qhuinn's chest swell with pride.

"Here you are, Master Qhuinn. I trust it is to your liking?" Fritz nodded.

Qhuinn wanted to hug the doggen, he really fucking did. After placing his own plate of

pie next to the oatmeal, he took the tray in both his hands and held it still, so as not to
spill anything. "It's perfect. Fritz, my man, you are awesome."

"Quite." The doggen beamed and bowed as Qhuinn pushed open the kitchen door

with his ass and headed out.

Qhuinn felt elated. He felt on top of the fucking world, and he really had no idea why

other than the fact that Blay was alive. Even if his best friend was still pissed at him for
what had happened between them all those months ago, it really wouldn't matter right
now because that heart of his was beating again.

When he opened the door leading down into the tunnel, he had to jump back to keep

himself from ploughing right into Saxton. Everything on the platter rattled, but thankfully
didn't tip over.

Saxton did not look happy in the slightest. What flashed in his eyes when he looked at

Qhuinn was a mixture of anger and confusion and a lot of hurt. He was white-knuckling
the handle of his briefcase and, by how sharply he was dressed under his long coat, he
looked as though he was going somewhere. Work, probably.

No words were exchanged between them in the first few moments of their bumping

into each other. Their eyes said a whole lot of 'fuck you's themselves. The underlining

competition that had been silently waging between the cousins for months now was
rearing its ugly head.

Saxton glanced at what Qhuinn was holding and said softly, "I assume not all of that is

for you."

No, it damn well fucking isn't. Now get your pretty ass out of my way so I can go feed

my male.

Qhuinn just shook his head.

His cousin shifted his weight to his other foot and adjusted his collar. He wanted to

say something. It was on the tip of his tongue. Qhuinn could just see it.

"You went down to see him." Qhuinn said, deciding if that primp sonofabitch wasn't

going to acknowledge the fucking elephant in the room, he would.

Saxton nodded. "I did." Their eyes locked in a deadly stare. "And, apparently, so did

you."

"The hell you talking about?" Qhuinn frowned.

"You honestly think I couldn't smell what you left behind in that room?" Saxton was

surprisingly calm. "And what you left all over him?"

Qhuinn tensed. Shit, the Bonding scent… "I didn't even realize it was happening."

Saxton didn't look convinced. "Was that supposed to be a warning to me?"

Yes.

"No."

"How long are you going to keep this up, Qhuinn?" His cousin looked a tad more

irritated now. "How long are you going to keep pretending that you don't have feelings for
him? He doesn't deserve to be strung along while you try to figure out whether your ego
and self-hate is more important than your future together."

Qhuinn adjusted his hold on the tray, but didn't reply. If his hands weren't full, he'd

knock that bastard flat on his ass in a heartbeat.

The sad thing was… he was right.

Fuck sakes.

"He's not going to wait forever." Saxton continued. "And don't think that any of this

changes my decision to propose to him once he's recovered. This is Blaylock's future I'm
worried about. Not yours."

Qhuinn cocked his jaw, but still would not speak. His heart, though, was screaming

inside his chest.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, and fuck again.

So much for his good mood.

"He's awake." Saxton gathered himself and pushed passed him, but paused before

disappearing around the corner. "And by the way? Your name was the first thing he said
before he opened his eyes."

The silence that followed choked Qhuinn, the last words his cousin had said floating

around his head. His mouth hung open. He nearly forgot what he was supposed to be
doing.

Right. Feed Blay.

…Right.

Holy shit.

Tray in hand, he continued his mission and proceeded through the door and down to

the tunnel. He made sure to walk at a brisk pace. The platters on the tray rattled together
with each step of his shitkicker. He didn't want to leave Blay without food for a moment
longer than he had to.

Plus, he needed to see him. Really fucking needed it.

Your name was the first thing he said when he opened his eyes…

A soft moan stopped him dead. Qhuinn frowned and stared ahead, trying to analyze

whether that sound was really what he thought it was and where the hell it was coming
from. He'd been with enough people in his life to be able to tell the distinct difference
between a moan of pain and one of pleasure.

Maybe V hadn't been able to wait to take Doc Jane to bed. Maybe they were locked

up in one of the recovery rooms. But, he heard no female sounds at all.

"The hell…" He breathed as he ever so quietly tiptoed his way down the hall, trying

with all his might not to make his presence known in the silence of the place.

Another moan; this one a tad louder, and no less pleasurable.

It was coming from Blay's room.

That was Blay's voice.

Qhuinn's instincts went wild and the need to bolt right in there was too fucking strong

to comprehend. His hands shook as he held onto the tray and he had to set the fucking
thing down on the floor before the clinking of ceramic and silverware woke up the whole
damn mansion.

Closing the short distance between himself and the only recovery room with an open

door, he leaned on the wall right outside and ever so slowly peered with one eye around
the door frame and in.

Oh my God…

Blay was wide awake, his back arched off the bed and the taut muscles on those

magnificent shoulders of his tensed and pulsing with power. His eyes were squeezed
shut, and his flesh shone with a light sheen of sweat under the fluorescent light. That
strong chest and stomach were fully exposed and his mouth was gaped open, elongated
fangs catching the light. And

his hands… his hands were under the sheets.

Qhuinn didn't have to wonder what they were doing under there.

He swayed and had to grip onto the door jamb, his fingers squeezing so tightly that

the wood actually crackled a little under the pressure. His breathing quickened until he
was basically panting like a thirsty animal, and he felt his own cock strain painfully
against the thick fabric of his jeans.

Sweet Virgin Scribe, Blay was so hot.

In all the years he'd known him, he'd never seen his best friend in such a state. Sure,

there had been times when the two of them would take a couple of whores into the
bathroom at Zerosum and fuck the ever living shit out of them, but Blay had never been
then what he was now.

Back then, it was just a way to get off, or, as Qhuinn had unfortunately found out, a

way to be close in an intimate way without actually being intimate with each other.

This now? This was entirely different.

This was pure, raw, unimaginable passion. It was hot and real and beautiful. This

wasn't getting off for the sake of getting off. There was something behind this.

What are you imagining? Qhuinn asked in his head, though somehow, he had a

feeling he knew. Maybe it wasn't so much a feeling as a fucking prayer.

Christ, if he was right…

Blay's breath hitched hard, that face of his contorted in the sweet throes of pleasure,

every last second of it causing Qhuinn's cock to throb and beg to be released. As much
as he was going to regret the massive case of blue balls he was going to get later, he
wouldn't dare whip his dick out and beat it off to the sight of his best friend.

It felt… too dirty. Blay didn't deserve to be ogled at like he was some cheap whore,

especially in such a private moment. But like the sick fuck he was, Qhuinn kept watching.

The way Blay squeezed his eyes shut and added speed to the rhythm of his pumps

told Qhuinn that he was close.

"Say it…" Qhuinn whispered under his breath, licking his lips. "Just like you did before.

Say my name, Blay. Let me hear you."

Moments later did it finally hit, Blay's hips bucking hard off the bed as he threw his

head back. His voice was no more than a choked breath of air, but the male watching
from right outside the door heard him loud and clear.

"Qhuinn!"

He had to stop looking. Right now. Whipping around, Qhuinn slammed backward into

the wall and covered his mouth with his hand as his own orgasm rocked his body,
muffling out the sharp moan and curse. He reached down and clutched onto his cock
through his pants as his cream coated the inside of his jeans in warm, thick jets. His
knees practically buckled right from under him.

When it was finally over, he closed his eyes and waited for his breathing to slow. He

could hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears, which was good. It drowned out all the
other sounds. If he heard Blay catching his breath, he probably would have come a
second time.

With a push off the wall and a thorough adjustment to his clothes and his hair, Qhuinn

went to fetch the tray still sitting on the floor a few feet away.

His Blay would be hungry after that.

A soft sound from just outside in the hall snapped Blay back into attention just as he

was coming down from the blissful high of his orgasm. Still somewhat breathless, he
quickly wiped his hands clean on the sheets and arranged them back over his body. The
Bonding scent that had gotten him off had already almost faded from the air around him.
What little energy he had before was completely drained out of his body.

He slumped back against the pillow and rubbed the bandages around his chest, his

lungs burning like a motherfucker from the amount of panting and gasping he did.

Did he regret it?

Not for a moment.

As footsteps approached the room, Blay turned his head and expected to see Doc

Jane walk in for a quick check up, but what came in

to view instead…

"Hey…" Qhuinn smiled softly from the doorway.

Blay's mouth opened and his jaw worked, but nothing would come out. His voice was

trapped somewhere in his throat and refused to budge. Qhuinn didn't seem to mind the
silence, and just kept smiling that soft, one-sided smile that Blay remembered falling in
love with.

Shit, wait… had Qhuinn heard anything?

The thought of it sent heat shooting up to Blay's cheeks and he quickly turned his face

away, hoping his friend hadn't caught sight of his blush. He then proceeded to mentally
kick himself over and over again.

Oh, God, I moaned his name!

"I brought you something to eat." He heard Qhuinn say softly.

Surprised, Blay turned back, and only then noticed the silver tray in Qhuinn's hands.

Whatever was on it smelled good. Really good. He never realized how hungry he was up
until now.

As Qhuinn walked over, Blay made discrete work of examining him from head to toe.

He was dressed casually tonight, in a pair of faded blue jeans that were torn up in a few
places, and his favourite Metallica shirt that had been worn so often, some of the spots
on the Metallica logo across the chest had peeled away. No weapons and leathers
meant he wasn't scheduled to head out to the field tonight.

He could stay here all night if he wanted to.

The sexy, dominating sway to Qhuinn's hips was still as present as it had ever been.

Blay noticed the way his black hair stuck up in all directions, like he had jumped out of
the shower and let it dry as is. The blood red teardrop tattoo painted just below his
piercing green eye stood out brightly against his cheek, which was surprisingly rosy.

Had he been running? He looked spent.

"It's not much," Qhuinn said as he pressed the button on the gurney which triggered it

to rise in a seated position. "I had Fritz make you some oatmeal, and he stuck a few
apples and raisins in there for flavour. Didn't want you blowing chunks cause of all the
pain meds."

Now sitting upright with help from the bed, Blay folded his hands together and silently

watched Qhuinn place the tray on his lap.

They locked eyes.

And held the stare.

God, those mismatched eyes were breathtaking. He could never understand why

Qhuinn hated them so much. Frankly, the way held the glymera held perfect appearance
as one of their highest standards was a load of bullshit.

Qhuinn was no defect. Those eyes, one sky blue and the other emerald green, were

the most gorgeous things Blay had ever seen. A raptor's gaze; piercing and strong, yet
still capable of holding softness and, more often than not, smouldering heat.

He had to look away, lest his body decided to react again.

Qhuinn cleared his throat. "Do you, um… do you have the strength to feed yourself,

or…?"

"I'm all right," Blay managed softly. He looked up again. "Thank you."

He could practically feel the pride in Qhuinn's tone. "You're welcome."

Blay reached down to pick up the spoon, but paused and eyed a slice of pie set on a

simple plate right next to the bowl of oatmeal.

"Is this toffee apple pie?" He asked in astonishment.

"Oh! Yeah, that's mine." Qhuinn snatched up the plate and grabbed the slice of pie in

his hand, taking a rather massive bite right out of it. Ever the gentleman, he spoke with
his mouth full. "Thought you'd be hungry, so I brought it with me so I wouldn't waste
time."

Blay had to laugh. As Qhuinn pulled one of the chairs up to the side of the bed, he dug

into his oatmeal. It was soft and not too sweet and still warm. With every swallow, it
soothed the aching hunger in his gut, but that pie still smelled damn good.

Qhuinn seemed to notice. "You want a bite?"

"No, no, I'm good."

"Liar. C'mon, Blay, I know you well enough to know what you want."

Well, didn't that just make the blush come right back.

With a quick scoot closer, Qhuinn leaned close and placed a small piece of the pie

against Blay's lips. He was hand-feeding him. "Here. Just a small bite."

Blay wanted to protest, he really did, but the scent of warm apples and brown sugar

and toffee was just way too tempting. Not to mention the insistence in those mismatched
eyes.

Lips slowly parted, and Blay took a small bite from the piece of pie, his stare never

wavering from that of the other males. Qhuinn swallowed loudly, and suddenly, those
dark spices exploded back into the room.

And Blay remembered.

"You were here," he narrowed his eyes. "Before, when I was still unconscious. You

were here."

Qhuinn stammered, obviously flustered by the scent coming off of him. "I… well,

yeah… I was actually here from the beginning." He also cursed, but it was so soft, Blay
didn't quite catch it.

"What do you mean 'from the beginning'?"

His friend leaned back in his seat and sighed heavily, looking more exhausted than

Blay had seen him in a long time. "I saw them wheel you in." he started. "I saw you on
the operating table. I saw you die."

Whoa. Hold up there, cowboy.

"Die." Blay's mouth twitched.

"I… died?"

"A few times, actually. You coded on the table." Qhuinn set the plate of pie on the

small side table by the gurney and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. It

seemed difficult for him to explain this. "There was once a time when no matter how
many times Doc Jane hit you with the paddles, your heart wouldn't start up again. They
gave up."

Blay had to swallow when it felt as though that bite of pie would come up again.

"I was the one who told them to keep going," Their eyes locked for the third time. "I

yelled at V to go once more. I even brought his shellan into it." He rubbed at his jaw,
which Blay now noticed was slightly bruised. "Bad move on my part, but it worked. They
shot the volts into you one more time, and you came right back."

"Holy shit…" Blay was at a loss for words, which seemed to be happening a hell of a

lot lately. "You…"

"Don't," Qhuinn shook his head. "I did not save you. You owe me nothing for it. Got

that?"

Blay's expression softened, wondering when his arrogant, moody, jackass of a best

friend had suddenly become such a noble male. A male of worth.

No, he'd always been one. It was just hard for him to show it.

Or see it, for that matter.

"Listen…" Qhuinn wrung his hands together. "About what I said to you before on the

balconies, I didn't…" He growled and shot to his feet. "Fuck, I'm bad at this shit, y'know?"

When he began to pace, Blay's smile widened. It was amazing how easily Qhuinn

could get so frustrated with himself.

"Qhuinn…"

He wasn't heard. Qhuinn kept rambli

ng. "…like, I know what I want to say and it won't

come out right. I was the biggest douchebag in existence for saying that shit to you…"

Blay tried again. "Qhuinn?"

"…and then I kept avoiding you, cause I saw how happy you were and I didn't want to

fuck t

hat shit up, cause I have a bit of a reputation of ruining good things for people…"

"Qhuinn!" Blay barked.

That got his attention. "What?"

Blay softened and shook his head, though sadly. "It's okay. I wasn't exactly being fair,

either. I kept trying to make you feel things and do things that you weren't ready for and I
drove you away because of it. So… I'm sorry for that."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Just accept the damn apology, you bastard."

Qhuinn grinned widely. Blay did the same. He felt his chest swell up, the gaping hole

in his heart that had once been his most cherished friendship being filled again. But there
was still one question on his mind.

"When you were here," he bit his lip, "did you kiss me?"

There was a moment's hesitation. "No."

"Are you lying to me?"

"Yes."

The heart monitor next to the bed picked up speed for a moment. It wasn't a critical

emergency, or him coding for the bazillionth time.

His ticker was just doing what Qhuinn made it do best.

"I got an idea," Qhuinn said, and it was obvious he was trying hard not to grin at the

beeping. "V said you were going to be in here for a few days while you healed up, and I
noticed you really have nothing to do but lie around and watch TV." He motioned to the
flat screen mounted on the opposite wall. "Mind if I do something about that?"

Sweet baby Jesus…

"Not at all." Blay swallowed hard.

The grin that followed was beyond wicked. "Be right back." Qhuinn sprinted out of the

room at a dead run.

Blay could only imagine what he would return with.

Chapter 5

Fifteen minutes later, a sharp whistle caught Blay's attention.

"What the hell…" He had to laugh as John squeezed his massive body through the

recovery room door, lugging over a huge cooler with two Playstation controllers draped
around his strong neck. Xhex was right behind him, already fisting a half-empty bottle of
Corona in her hand. Blay flushed and pulled the bed sheet up higher over his all-too-
naked body, as he was still a little hot and bothered from earlier.

Okay, not so much a little as waaaay too eager for he and Qhuinn to be alone in a

room together again.

"Is there some kind of party going on that I'm not aware of?" Blay chuckled and

reached out to clasp hands with John.

We thought you needed some company, John signed after releasing his palm. How

you feeling, man?

"Like I've been shot in the chest." Blay rubbed at the bandages, frowning at the ache

that had been present for a while.

Need me to call Doc Jane and ask her to up your meds? John asked as he slipped the

controllers off his neck and set them right below the flat screen TV. The cooler, which
sounded very full of ice and probably more beers, was placed next to the bed.

"Nah," Blay looked around. "What is all this?"

"Qhuinn's idea." Xhex smirked and stole the chair Qhuinn had been sitting in

previously, crossing one long leg over the other. Her skin-tight leather pants creaked with
the movement of her sleek, powerful body.

"Damn right it was Qhuinn's idea," came Qhuinn's grunting voice from the doorway,

and everyone looked over to see him lugging in the Playstation 3 and balancing a tower
of videogames at the same time. "Not letting anyone else take credit for the badassity of
this idea."

"'Badassity' isn't a word." Xhex arched one thin raven brow.

Qhuinn carefully set the gaming system down on the floor and proceeded hooking the

thing up to the flat screen. "Is now."

Blay couldn't help but notice that Qhuinn had changed into a different pair of jeans.

Odd.

"You guys didn't have to do this, you know." He took one of the controllers when it was

offered to him. "I'm sure there are better things to do tonight than be cooped up in a
hospital room."

Bite me, John grinned and dragged over the only other chair in the whole room,

setting it next to his shellan. He popped open the cooler and pulled out a Corona for
himself. You're my best friend, you dumbass, he signed.Besides, Qhuinn and I aren't
scheduled to hit the field until tomorrow night.

"That's right," Qhuinn added, having seen John's hand gestures. "So suck it up,

princess. You're stuck with us."

Blay couldn't help but smile.

He really couldn't.

"John's been playing 'happy mated family' too much these days, anyways. Not that I

mind it." Xhex ran her fingertips over her hellren's arms, the two of them exchanging a
heated look. "I thought it'd be nice that he come spend time with you two bozos."

"You've gotta quit it with the compliments, Xhex," Qhuinn smirked, scooping up the

remote and firing up the flat screen. "Besides, you're only saying that cause I let you pick
the game for tonight."

"What game is it?" Blay asked.

"Mortal Kombat: Armageddon." Xhex's gunmetal grey eyes flashed.

Blay was not surprised that she would enjoy a game like that.

I actually didn't know you enjoyed videogames, John smiled at her.

"I don't," Xhex leaned back and lifted one long leg, draping it over John's lap. "I just

enjoy having an opportunity to smear the ground with Qhuinn, even if it is in a virtual
way."

"John, have I mentioned before what a catch your girl is?"

You say it every day, Qhuinn. John took a swig of his beer.

Blay ran his fingers over the controller in his hands and watched as the opening

cutscene of Mortal Kombat: Armageddon came up on the screen. There were hundreds
of oddly dressed warriors in battle in the middle of a dusty desert, their blood and entrails
spilling upon the sand as various weapons hacked through their bodies.

Yup. Definitely Xhex's kind of game.

After bending down and plucking an ice cold beer and a bottle of water out of the

cooler

—while Blay tried very hard not to stare at his ass—Qhuinn turned and looked at

him with those piercing mismatched eyes of his. "Move over."

Blay blinked. "Huh? Why?"

"No other place to plant my ass, bud," Qhuinn motioned to the two occupied chairs in

a way that reminded Blay of Vanna White from Wheel of Fortune. "Looks like we have to
share. If you don't mind."

"N-

no… No, I…" He coughed. "Yeah, sure."

Smooth, Blay. Real smooth.

Blay looked away when he felt that familiar heat in his cheeks, grabbing hold of the

sheets at his waist and keeping them in place while he scooted over to give the other
large male room to sit. He adjusted the IV tube when it twisted around his arm.

He'd been on a bed with Qhuinn before.

Just not when he was totally and completely naked under a sheet.

Qhuinn slid in, his weight sinking into the mattress and the heat from the side of his

body pressing flush against Blay's bare arm. He tucked one of his legs under his body
while the other one hung off the edge of the bed.

"I got you water." Blay heard him say. "Don't think beer would be a good idea with

your meds."

He smelled good. So good. It wasn't even the Bonding scent, either. Just Qhuinn's

naturally dark and musky aroma. Blay breathed it in as deeply as he could, missing
having it in his lungs.

"Blay?"

"Huh?"

Qhuinn nudged his bare arm with the cold water bottle, making him flinch. "Water?"

"Oh… thanks." Blay was only vaguely aware of his hands coming up, taking the bottle,

and placing it on the mattress next to him.

There was a long moment of unusual silence. Blay didn't notice.

God, the way h

e smelled…

"Blay?" Qhuinn drawled.

"Mm?"

Qhuinn was grinning at him. Grinning like a Cheshire cat. "It's your turn to pick a

character. John already picked his."

Blay finally snapped out of it. "Oh! Shit… right."

He did his thing, choosing his main man Sub-Zero, all the while trying his damn

hardest not to blush when he could still feel Qhuinn's eyes on him. The humming ache in

his chest had turned into a persistent bite and throb, and Blay had to take a long sip of
water with hopes of calming it. When the game started, he leaned back into the mound of
soft, white pillows, and the ache eased somewhat. But only somewhat.

His pain meds must've been wearing off.

Great.

Blay ignored it. He was not going to have a little chest pain get in the way of a night

playing videogames with his two best friends. The last time they did this, John was still a
fucking pretrans, Qhuinn was still living with the family that hated him, and none of them
had to worry about the war with the lessers.

With everything that had happened with them for the passed year, with John getting

mated and he and Qhuinn hitting that rough patch, it was rare for them all to be together
again.

He was not giving this opportunity up.

"ROUND ONE." The deep voice of the game announced, and both Blay and John

gripped tightly to their controllers. "FIGHT!"

"FINISH HIM!"

"No! No, no, Goddamn it!" Qhuinn practically tumbled off the side of the gurney, his

fingers frantically pressing on every damn button on the controller, though it was no use.
Xhex had him right where she wanted him, and he watched in horror as her character
ripped his arms right out of their sockets and started beating him to death with them. The
screen was splattered in thick red blood.

"Stop hitting yourself." She cackled from her spot as she kept mercilessly pounding

into his character until there was nothing left of him.

"YOU WIN." The deep voice announced. "MORTAL FATALITY."

"You're a sick female." Qhuinn shot her a vicious glare. "How do you sleep at night?"

She doesn't, John smirked wickedly.

"Dude. TMI." Defeated, Qhuinn threw his arms up in the air and grabbed his third

Corona of the night before slumping back against the pillows. He tossed the controller to
Blay, grumbling. "Your turn."

Blay chuckled, though softly. "You always were a sore loser."

"That's a lie."

"Really?" Blay tilted his head, those baby blues of his swimming with the underlining

mischief that Qhuinn knew all too well. But, there was also something else… pain?
"Because I distinctly recall you tossing a Guitar Hero guitar out of my bedroom window
when I owned your ass at 'Through the Fire and the Flames'."

Did that seriously happen? It was obvious John was trying hard not to laugh.

"No." Qhuinn grunted.

"Yes." Blay took another swig from his second water bottle, but Qhuinn noticed a

flicker of pain as soon as he swallowed.

He leaned in close and placed a hand on Blay's knee. "You okay?"

Blay cleared his throat. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"You don't look good."

"You're always the flatterer, Qhuinn."

There was a sudden protective instinct that consumed Qhuinn from the inside out.

Like the quick flick of a Bic lighter, it was ignited, and he slid closer, placing his hand on
the small of Blay's warm, strong back. He didn't say anything, as he was sure his best
friend's pride had been bruised enough as is with so many people worrying about him.
Slowly, without a sound, he rubbed slow circles around Blay's back, hoping the touch
and motion would bring him some form of comfort.

Blay smiled, though faintly. He looked almost too exhausted to find the strength to do

it the entire way.

"I'm okay," he assured Qhuinn.

"You don't look okay."

Blay sighed heavily, and then frowned, his hand coming up to rest against his chest.

"What's wrong?" Qhuinn tried not to go into panic mode, but fuck, if the expression on

Blay's face didn't scare the ever living shit out of him, nothing did.

Blay didn't answer. He was too busy taking slow, steady breaths which did not sound

right.

John was suddenly there by the bed. What's wrong?

"I don't know." Qhuinn grabbed hold of Blay's free hand. "Blay?"

Still, Blay would not answer. He seemed to be concentrating on something. His brow

had drawn down and there was intensity in his stare. Whatever it was that was bothering
him this way was inside him.

Qhuinn wanted to pull his hair out. "Blaylock. Answer me."

Finally, Blay spoke, and his voice was a panicked whisper. "My heart… I can't… It's

beating too fast. It's hard to breathe."

Before Qhuinn could bark out a demand, Xhex was on her feet and out the door in a

flash, most likely to fetch Doc Jane. She was a dead fast female, so Qhuinn knew she
was the best choice out of the three of them to get help.

God… Qhuinn thought, not again.

"You need to lie back." Qhuinn said while rising off the gurney to allow Blay more

room. "Just ease backward… Yeah, that's it… Just relax."

"Fuck…" Blay hissed, "…sakes."

Pain? John signed.

"No, I'm just so fucking tired of this helplessness." Blay growled.

Qhuinn seized his best friend's large hand and held it tight. "Just try and stay calm,

okay? You need to breathe with me."

"Fucking hell, Qhuinn, I'm not in labour!" Blay snapped.

"No need to bite my head off like a hormonal female, then."

The sound of pounding footfalls alerted the three males to the arrival of Doc Jane and

Xhex, and John and Qhuinn quickly darted away from the bed so as not to get ploughed
over. Jane was fully corporeal when she arrived and shot straight to Blay's side, her
stethoscope out and raring to go.

"What's wrong?" She asked, her tone even and purely professional.

As the stethoscope was placed on his chest, Blay explained everything.

Qhuinn watched from the other side of the room with held breath as Jane took a

moment to listen through the stethoscope while her sharp green eyes watched the heart
monitor. He wanted to be closer to Blay. He wanted to hold his hand. He didn't care how
lame that shit sounded. Fuck the sissyness of it. Fuck it all. He wanted to hold the hand
of the male he loved and make sure he was all right.

He'd spent way too fucking long being distant and never there when Blay needed him.

"Leave the room." Jane finally said with a quick glance in Qhuinn's direction. "All of

you. I can't be crowded when I work."

Fuck that.

Qhuinn growled when he felt John grab his arm.

Come on, John signed with his free hand. We'll wait right outside. Just like before,

okay?

He did not want to budge. Not for an instant, and it got to the point where John had to

practically drag him out into the hallway. Xhex shut the door behind them.

"I'm really fucking sick of this." Qhuinn snarled at his friend. "I should be in there with

him. If it was fucking Xhex in there, Jane would allow you to go in."

John punched his arm. Hard.

It was Xhex at one point, remember? He shook his head. You really suck when it

comes to bringing shellans into shit like this. Asshat.

Ah, damn it. "Sorry," Qhuinn mumbled as he rubbed the sore spot on his arm.

"Fill me in a little, here, because I'm confused." Xhex leaned back against the wall and

eyed Qhuinn, her muscled arms folded beneath her breasts. "When the fuck did you start
caring about Blay?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I've always cared."

"So, dry fucking whores against the wall at Zerosum before dragging them into the

bathroom while he watched is your way of showing how much you care?"

Qhuinn bristled. "That's not

—" He had to stop and lower his voice, because he was

close to shouting. "…That's not how it really went down."

"Looked that way when I watched you guys every night."

"You know, none of this is even your business."

Xhex's grey eyes bore into his, as if she was just a split second away of reaching into

his mind to unlock every little trapdoor in his very soul. Qhuinn saw a flash of
the sympath in her, and it scared him.

"I can make it my business." She said in a low voice.

"Don't you fucking pull that shit with me." Qhuinn bared his fangs.

John was suddenly in his face and was nothing but a massive wall of muscle and a

whole lot of pissed off and protective male. The Bonding scent coming off him practically
bitch slapped Qhuinn in the face.

Watch it, he growled.

Qhuinn glared, but he knew too well not to mess with a Bonded male, so he kept his

trap shut.

The door of the recovery room swung open fifteen minutes later, and Doc Jane

stepped out, looking as devoid of emotion as every surgeon when they were speaking to
the friends and family of the patient.

Qhuinn held his breath.

"He's all right." She said, meeting each of their stares. "This was expected. It's a minor

complication following the surgery around his heart. He suffered from an irregular heart

rhythm, which also affected the amount of oxygen he was receiving. Had it been a
severe case, I would have had to wheel him into the OR and hook him up with a
pacemaker, but thankfully that wasn't the case. I treated him with an antiarrhythmic
agent, so he should be fine by tomorrow."

All at once, the three of them released a relieved breath.

Qhuinn was getting too old for this.

"The meds are going to make him physically weak and drowsy, so I think he's done

with the videogames for tonight." Jane nodded. "I called Saxton and informed him on
what happened. He's on his way to stay with him."

Everyone tensed.

Qhuinn could just stare. "Why?"

"Because it's best that Blaylock have some company tonight, in case anything else

goes wrong." She frowned.

"I can stay with him." Qhuinn's tone was dangerous.

"Qhuinn, I am not going to argue with you

—"

"Why can't I stay with him?"

Though a great deal smaller than Qhuinn, with her slender form and short blonde hair,

Jane was no less threatening when she got that look in her eyes. She had a tongue as
sharp as her mind and as quick as her hands when it was needed. She could tear down
even the largest male without even having to lay a hand on him.

It was no wonder why she and Vishous got along so well.

"Because Blay is Saxton's mate. Not yours." Her tone was steady and firm. "Now, I

would like you to respect my patient and my wishes and leave him be tonight."

His Bonding scent exploded off of his body, to the point where even John and Xhex

took a step back. Jane stood her ground though, coolly unimpressed.

"You can hit me with that smell all you want, but it's not going to change my mind."

"He's mine." Qhuinn's voice was more animal than vampire.

"Is Blay even aware that you think that?" Jane tilted her head.

He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. That was because there was

absolutely nothing to say in response to that that wouldn't make him look like the bastard
he was.

Jane adjusted her long white coat. "That's what I thought. He has no idea what you

feel for him does he? And if he doesn't know, you two aren't together, am I right?"

I can't tell him… I can't tell him because I would ruin him.

Qhuinn stood silent.

"Uh huh. So, as long as my patient is aware at the moment of who is the mate and

who is just the friend, my decision stands as is. Until that changes, Saxton stays with
him. Not you."

Qhuinn was halfway out of the tunnel before John had the chance to grab his arm and

try and reason with him. There was a storm raging in his head and that vice once again
had his heart in a fucking death grip.

Still, he would not cry.

Chapter 6

Snow tumbled down from the starless night sky in puffy flurries that came to rest upon

Qhuinn's stiff shoulders, as though they were attempting to offer him some form of
comfort as he lost himself in the foggy cloud of his own self-pity. His black leathers and
hair were dotted in sparkling white and the gun he had gripped in his fist was icy cold
from the harsh wind.

The Hudson River was dead quiet tonight, and he wondered if this was really the best

spot to be hunting for lessers. The distant sounds of Caldwell were drowned out by the
howling wind, and the crash of the water that hadn't yet been trapped beneath a thick
layer of ice. He felt the sharp kiss of the mist on his cheeks as the waves slammed
against the riverbank.

He, John, and Tohrment had split up and were skirting the area after receiving civilian

reports about a group of about a dozen or so lessers that had been spotted near the
river's edge. But for some reason, tonight those pale ass motherfuckers had decided to
be scarce.

Not what Qhuinn needed in his current state of mind.

In the stillness of the night, his thoughts drifted to Blay, and what he could possibly be

doing with Saxton righ

t now… all alone together in that little room. The grip on his gun

got so tight; it suddenly fired into the ground, startling him. The blast echoed across the
expanse of barren landscape.

His cell went off. It was Tohrment. Qhuinn pulled the thing out of his leathers and held

it to his ear without saying a word.

"Was that you, Qhuinn? You need backup?" Tohr asked.

"Misfire. Sorry." Qhuinn said in a dead voice, hanging up before he received a reply.

He started to walk along the river's edge, back toward Caldwell. It was clear that none

of those undead bastards were going to show up here, but he might have some luck if he
was a little closer to the city. His shitkickers trudged through the snow and each exhale
created a cloud of vapour that quickly dissipated.

"Blay is Saxton's mate. Not yours."

Qhuinn stopped and closed his eyes while his hand came up to push through his hair.

The tips of it were frozen stiff and soaking wet. He rubbed at his chest, listening to the
distant sound of an ambulance blaring through the streets, and wondered if it was
possible to have your heart broken more than once.

When the fuck did he become so goddamn weepy?

When you realized it's too fucking late, you twat, said the voice in his head. You had

your chance a million times before and you fucking blew it.

He eyed his gun and wished he had the fucking balls to put the barrel to his head and

finally shut his brain up.

Blay still loved him. There was no denying that. Qhuinn had seen it in his eyes and in

the way that rosy blush hit his cheeks when they had sat on the bed together. Not only
had their friendship been restored, but the underlining need to be with each other was
back in full and uncontrollable force.

Blay loved Qhuinn. Qhuinn loved Blay. There really shouldn't have been a fucking

issue as to what is supposed to happen next.

"He deserves better…" Qhuinn said to himself.

Ah, but that wasn't just the case, was it? No, Qhuinn knew there was something else

keeping him and Blay apart. The years and years of rejection from his family had done a
number on his way of thinking. His little defect had made him an outcast with his own
flesh and blood. The fact that his eyes were two different colours branded him a freak.
Imperfection was a sin.

And what the fuck were they gonna think if they knew he was also in love with a male?

He dreaded thinking about it. Homosexuality was a big 'fuck no' in the glymera. Saxton
seemed to be the only bastard who could get away with it. He was a handsome and
sophisticated male of worth with a successful career as a lawyer for his race and enough
money and class to take him anywhere in life.

That was someone Blay needed to be with. Saxton was someone who could allow

Blay to live his life in the glymera with no fear of being rejected because of who he
sleeps with. He was rich and respected and could be the safe house his best friend
deserved.

If Blay ended up with Qhuinn… he'd be shunned in an instant. His parents would have

been seen as disgraceful amongst the glymera, and Qhuinn adored them far too much to
have to put them through that kind of pain. Blay's mom and dad were the rare few who
didn't see a threat whenever they looked into Qhuinn's mismatched eyes.

He had to do it.

He had to let Blay go again. The risk of them getting together now was far too great.

The temptation was too strong.

"Fuck

—"

Distant gunfire caused Qhuinn to wheel around on the spot and his eyes pierced the

darkness around him. Snowflakes clung to his dark lashes and he wiped them away. The
distinct whiff of baby powder wafted up to his nose, but it was faint.

His cell went off, and he yanked it out with such force, he nearly dropped it into the

snow. "Where?" He demanded.

"North side. Under the bridge." Tohr hung up fast.

Qhuinn dematerialized from his spot, the particles of his being soaring across the

snowy expanse. When he reappeared under the bridge, a bullet zipped passed him,
nicking him in the arm. He cursed and dove behind an old Chevrolet Impala, which had
been left abandoned under the bridge God knew how long ago. Its exterior was rusted
and shattered to all shit, and all four of its tires had been taken. Still, it made a damn
good shield.

"How many are there?" He called over the gunfire to John, who was kneeling near the

trunk of the car.

John held up four fingers, then ducked when a bullet when ricocheting off the hood of

the car. Qhuinn could see Tohrment standing behind one of the massive concrete beams
holding the bridge up, half his huge body exposed to the bullets as he fired round after
round at their enemy.

Qhuinn got down on his hands and knees and crawled across the pavement to crouch

at the front bumper. When he cautiously peered over, he saw three of the lessers firing at
them from the concrete beam opposite from the one Tohr was at. The fourth bastard had
already been taken down but, as lessers were never alive to begin with, he was a
writhing mess on the snowy ground.

Qhuinn quickly checked how many rounds he had left. There was a good number. He

could work with this.

After a breath, he jumped to his feet and started firing. Bullet after bullet shot out of his

gun, most of which just collided with the beam those pussies were hiding behind. Chunks
and chips of concrete flew through the air.

He got one. Right through the motherfucking chest. The lesser stumbled back and hit

the ground hard.

Qhuinn thought of Blay. He thought of those sons of bitches catching him off guard

and putting a bullet in his chest. He thought of Blay falling to the ground, his beautiful
blood staining the snow in bright crimson.

He thought of him on that table. He thought of the moment his heart stopped.

He snapped.

"Fuck! We need to get closer!" Tohrment growled. "They're too

—Qhuinn! What the

fuck are you doing?"

There was no amount of yelling that could stop Qhuinn from what he needed to do.

Palm flat on the hood of the car, he flung his body right over and, as soon as his
shitkickers hit the ground, he took off at a dead run. He didn't throw himself into the heart
of battle blindly, though. No, he started shooting like a maniac, ducking and rolling out of
the way when a bullet zinged by too closely.

Tohrment's shouts behind him were inaudible over the roar escaping Qhuinn's lips. He

wasn't sure if he was screaming actual words, or just releasing a fierce battle cry. Either
way, the two lessers left standing looked scared as fuck.

When he got close, he clocked one hard across the face, sending him smashing into

the concrete wall. Wheeling around, he threw his leg up and knocked the gun right out of
the second one's hands. This motherfucker was tiny, and a pretty fresh recruit, given his
hair and skin still had some colour to it. Qhuinn bared his fangs and drove his fists into
the bastard's face, over and over again, imagining the punching bag back at the training
center. Bone cracked and shattered with each blow of his fists. Disgusting black blood
covered his hands and leathers.

John came out of nowhere behind him, tackling the lesser that Qhuinn had knocked

against the concrete to the ground. He could hear the struggle behind him, but Qhuinn
didn't look back. He was too focused on this motherfucker right here.

Qhuinn brought his knee up and nailed the fucker right in the jewels. When the lesser

doubled over with a howl, he seized him by his paling hair and threw him hard to the
concrete. The man scrambled backward as Qhuinn advanced, mismatched eyes oozing
with his bloodlust.

"You will pay for hurting him," Qhuinn snarled in the Old Language. "By the beating of

the heart in my breast, you and your kind will suffer e'er more for hurting him."

When the lesser opened his broken, bloody mouth to try and spit out whatever fucking

defence first came to mind, Qhuinn shut him up with a bullet right between the eyes.
The lesser fell backward and writhed against the snow.

Qhuinn didn't stop there. With his shitkicker firmly planted on the lesser's chest, he

went to town, shooting bullet after motherfucking bullet into his skull. With each blow,
the lesser's head fell apart piece by piece, bits of brain matter and skull fragment
scattering the black-stained ground.

These bastards didn't die, which meant they felt every last ounce of pain.

"Qhuinn?" There was a soft hand on his back.

He spun around and bared his fangs, the barrel of his gun landing right between

Tohrment's dark blue eyes. The Brother stepped back and held his hands up in defence,
though he was strikingly calm.

"Easy, Qhuinn…" He said softly. "It's just me. Just me."

Qhuinn's chest heaved violently. The icy air burned his lungs. His hands shook around

the handle of his gun. There were tears in his eyes.

"He's mine!" He growled through clenched teeth. "Blay is mine!"

Tohrment exchanged a confused look with John, before turning back to Qhuinn. "I

know. You just need to calm down, all right? Put the gun down. They're all immobilized."

Qhuinn swallowed and looked down at the lesser he'd just obliterated. There wasn't

even a head left; just a smear of brain matter and black blood pouring out of a neck. He
dropped the gun to the snow and wiped his eyes with the backs of his shaking hands
before the tears could trickle down his cheeks.

He waited silently as John and Tohrment unsheathed their daggers and did their stab

and pop routine with each of the writhing bodies, then dematerialized back to the
mansion with them. Qhuinn was a fucking mess when he climbed up the front steps with
John, and he wasn't just talking about mentally. He hoped Fritz didn't kick his ass for
dripping lesser blood all over the floor of the entrance hall.

John placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. You good? He signed.

"Yeah," he lied. "I'm… I'm gonna go see him, all right?"

You sure that's a good idea? Sax might be there. John frowned,

"Just going to check on him." Qhuinn turned away and without another word to John,

headed through the door off the kitchen and into the tunnel.

The walk was brisk. With each step, Qhuinn left behind a dripping trail of

black lesser blood in his wake. The nick the bullet took out of his arm stung like fire, but
that was the last thing on his mind. All he wanted to do was to peer inside the room and
see that Blay was all right. If Saxton was there with him, then tough shit, because he
wasn't letting anything get in the way of him from seeing his best friend. He'd been a
worrying mess since the night before. That motherfucking peacock will have to suck it up.

When he reached the door to Blay's recovery room, he was surprised to find it closed.

Frowning, Qhuinn took a step back and noticed light steaming out from the crack
beneath the door. It was too dim to be the actual light in the room, so he assumed the
side table lamp was on.

Good. It was still occupied.

His hand was shaking like a fucker as he lifted it and knocked softly on the door.

He waited a few minutes, but there was no answer. Qhuinn leaned in and pressed his

ear to the door to listen for any sounds inside. No talking, no blare of the television, but
there was a soft roar of tumbling water. Someone was taking a shower.

It better not be them together… The very thought made him growl.

Giving a big old 'fuck you' to privacy, Qhuinn gripped the cold handle of the door and

slowly turned, easing the thing open and peering inside. Blay's bed was empty, but the
sheets had been pulled back as though recently used. Saxton's coat was missing, too.
Actually, there wasn't any sign of Saxton anywhere.

Gently, Qhuinn shut the door behind him and walked across the tiled floor toward

sound of the roaring shower. Light spilled out from the open bathroom door, and he was
cautious when approaching. Last thing he needed to see was his cousin's naked

—

Oh my God…

Blay had his back turned to the door, and was unwrapping the thick bandages that

had been around his chest. The light danced across his lush copper hair, and then
poured over his magnificent back, dipping with each sculpted patch of muscle. Qhuinn
couldn't help but notice that there were freckles across the backs of his shoulders, soft

and subtle like the ones on his cheeks. His eyes shamelessly ran lower still, over a taut
round ass and long, powerful legs.

If he t

hought Blay was beautiful before… holy shit…

And this was just the back of him.

Qhuinn swallowed hard and took one step into the bathroom. His movements were

slow, precise, and quiet. Blay hadn't noticed he was even there, practically breathing
down his neck. He watched as the bloodstained bandage was slowly unfurled and
landed in a tangled heap on the tiled floor. Blay made a move to pick it up, but he
swayed suddenly, and caught the edge of the sink for balance.

Instincts guiding him, Qhuinn stepped forward and grabbed Blay's arm to support him.

Well, if that didn't just scare the shit right out of him.

Blay jumped out of his skin and wheeled around, snatching a fluffy white towel from

the rack and wrapping it around his waist as fast as he could. He clutched onto the fabric
for dear life. The bar of soap and small plastic cup holding a toothbrush that was on the
counter went clattering to the floor. Baby blues stared widely at him, and Qhuinn watched
the rosy flush hit Blay's entire body.

Qhuinn glided his eyes down like the shameless bastard he was. Blay was a few

inches shorter than Qhuinn was, but he was certainly wider. His shoulders were broad
and proud, with thick arms bulging with strength. Mismatched eyes continued downward,
over Blay's firm, defined pectorals and the gorgeous plane of muscle that made up his
powerful stomach. His gaze dipped even lower, to the defined hip lines that disappeared
beneath the white towel fabric.

He wanted his hands… his tongue… on every last inch of it.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Blay asked breathlessly.

Qhuinn blinked and looked down at himself. Black lesser blood continued to drip off

his leathers and skin, staining the floor. "It was a tough night in the field."

"I'll say. You look like hell."

Qhuinn felt a faint smile tug on the corners of his lips, but it vanished just as quickly as

it came. "Why did you sway a moment ago? You feeling all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's just the meds Doc Jane gave me for my quick heartbeat." Blay

dismissed it with a flick of his hand. "They make me dizzy."

Qhuinn knew he shouldn't ask, but fuck it. "Where's Saxton?"

"Work."

"Mm."

Well, wasn't this awkward as all hell.

Slowly, Qhuinn took a step closer to his best friend, then another, then another, until

Blay was backed up flush against the fogged glass of the shower door. Blay's breathing
picked up. Looming over the other male, Qhuinn reached out, meaning to touch the
healed spot on his friend's chest where there was once a gaping bullet wound, but
stopped himself dead. There was too much lesser blood on his hand, and he didn't want
any of it tainting Blay's pale skin.

"You look better." Qhuinn nodded and wiped his hand on his jeans. Yeah, like that did

much. There was lesser blood on them, too.

"I feel better." Blay's gaze glided up Qhuinn's chest and their eyes locked. He

swallowed. "I was just about to take a shower, and

—"

"Right." Qhuinn looked away. "I'll give you some privacy."

"No, you idiot." Blay chuckled softly and shook his head. "You're covered from head to

toe in that inky shit and you smell like a powder puff. Do you want to get it off or not?"

Qhuinn simply stared, and when Blay released his hold on the towel around his waist,

he watched as the thing hit the floor. The fucking cold, dead thing inside his chest
jumped to life at what he beheld, slamming against his ribcage until it was hard to
breathe. He actually gasped.

"Jesus…" Qhuinn whispered.

He was gorgeous. Drop dead fucking gorgeous.

After pushing open the shower door, Blay extended a hand and stared up at his face

in that special way. "Let me wash you, Qhuinn."

Qhuinn's mouth became instantly dry. He stared down at the offered hand, and felt as

though he was about to vomit up his own heart. The thing was going apeshit in his chest.

I shouldn't do this… I shouldn't…

But when he met those eyes; those stunning baby blues that looked at him like they

looked at no one else, the voice in his head finally shut up.

And he took Blay's hand.

Chapter 7

When their palms met, Blay kept his hand steady as he pulled Qhuinn into the shower,

shitkickers and all. They were lucky it was as huge as the showers upstairs in the
mansion, or they would have never been able to squeeze into the space together. Jets of
hot water poured from the shower head above them, and Blay watched as the rivulets
ran down Qhuinn's leathers, washing away the lesser blood that had caked itself onto the
material. He made damn sure all the blackness that pooled at their feet swirled around
the drain and disappeared.

Lifting his eyes, he noticed the way Qhuinn was staring at him. The heated gaze

behind those dark lashes sent pleasant chills coursing through Blay's body, even though
he was practically sweating from the amount of steam filling the enclosed space.

Reaching out, Blay curled his fingers into Qhuinn's leather jacket and peeled it off his

shoulders. He made sure to go as slowly as possible. Though a total sex god and slut
when he wanted to be, Qhuinn seemed to be the quickest to retreat whenever Blay came
on too strong. It had happened twice before, when Blay had demanded a kiss, and
Qhuinn had to yank himself away before things got too heated.

No, this time he'd be slow. Slow and chaste. He wouldn't beg for a kiss, and he

wouldn't touch anywhere he wasn't supposed to touch unless he asked first. If Qhuinn
wanted hot and heavy and desperate, it was up to him to make the first move.

If Qhuinn wanted nothing at all... well, being close to him again, naked under the hot

spray of a shower, cleaning him after his battle tonight… that was good enough for Blay.
As long as he could take care of him, be near to him, he was happy.

The soaked leather jacket peeled away from Qhuinn's slick flesh with ease, and Blay

opened the shower door briefly to toss the thing onto the floor. Qhuinn was wearing a
black wife beater, and the cotton material clung to his skin like saran wrap. Blay could
clearly make out each nipple ring and bump of his stomach though the shirt.

Upon noticing a small gash in Qhuinn's upper arm, Blay paused a moment and

frowned. The thing wasn't deep enough to require stitches, but it definitely needed more
than just a little band-aid.

"Bullet." Qhuinn suddenly said in the softest voice. "It nearly got me before I dodged."

The thought of Qhuinn avoiding death by the skin of his teeth made Blay's stomach

turn. He gently grazed the taut flesh of Qhuinn's arm with his fingertips, head tilted. "You
can't just leave it like this."

"What are you suggesting?"

Blay swallowed hard and wondered if the meds he was on was making him more of a

dumbfuck than he usually was. "I could close it for you."

Qhuinn just stared at him, silent and emotionless, his drenched black hair clinging to

his forehead.

Fuck, he'd crossed the line again. God damn it, why did he always

—

"Please."

That word did not come out of his mouth. Blay lifted his head and locked Qhuinn's

eyes, unsure if he'd heard him right. "…What?" He breathed.

Qhuinn turned slightly and offered his arm, but didn't repeat himself. As Blay stared at

the bright red gash against flesh a bit darker than his own, he felt his fangs elongate,
hungry and begging to taste. Dear God, he could not count how many times he'd
wondered what Qhuinn tasted like. Was he as sweet as the females he'd fed off of?

This was nothing like Blay had expected when he imagined tasting Qhuinn's blood on

his tongue for the first time. He always pictured himself on top of Qhuinn, his fangs deep
in the male's throat as he pulled on his rich, warm blood while their hips rocked
steadily

—

Okaaaay. Gonna stop thinking about that right now before I ruin this.

Moving with the same slow steadiness that he had first shown when removing the

jacket, Blay grasped Qhuinn's arm with both of his hands. After one, two, three deep
breaths to steady himself, he leaned in and gave the wound a slow swipe of his tongue.

His mind exploded.

Jesus Christ, that flavour. It was spicy and rich and warm, as strong and musky as the

scent that always lingered on Qhuinn's flesh. It reminded Blay of fine port wine, but
better. So much fucking better. He ran his tongue over the wound only once more,
sealing it up. Qhuinn seemed to react to the touch, too. His body tensed slightly, before
his back arched.

And was that a moan he bit back?

Blay pulled away quickly, battling with the need to pin Qhuinn against the shower wall,

take his vein and fill his belly with that delicious flavour. He wiped his mouth with the
back of his hand.

"Thank you." Qhuinn said softly as he examined the spot where the gash once was.

Blay nodded and pulled himself together. He had other things to focus on right now

than the lingering taste of Qhuinn's blood still on his tongue. His hands grasped the hem
of Qhuinn's black wife beater and slowly pulled the thing up. Qhuinn raised his arms in
the air, allowing Blay to rid him of the clingy material and toss it out with the jacket.

Qhuinn was half naked, now. His jeans and shitkickers were still on and soaked as

hell. There were dried spatters of lesser blood on Qhuinn's neck and chest, some of
which had dripped and left black tracks running down his stomach.

Just as Blay reached for the clasp of Qhuinn's jeans, Qhuinn grabbed his wrists and

stopped him.

"Leave them on." He whispered.

Okay, so this whole shower thing was definitely not going anywhere with Qhuinn.

Despite the familiar sting hitting his chest, and he damn well knew it had nothing to do
with the injury, Blay respected his friend's wishes. At least the boundaries were set and
expectations were as low as they had always been.

Blay picked up a washcloth that was hanging on the side, along with a bar of soap that

smelled like fresh mint. He rubbed the two together under the spray until a foamy lather
coated the fabric. The scent was pleasant and clean; perfect for getting the sweet stink of
that lesser blood off of Qhuinn's body.

He ran the washcloth over Qhuinn's chest, admiring the way the soapy lather looked

against his skin. He worked the lather in gentle circles, scrubbing away the black blood.
Qhuinn's chest rose and fell under his hand, and when Blay made his way up to Qhuinn's
neck, he saw that Qhuinn was watching him.

"Tilt your head back," Blay whispered, and when Qhuinn did, he ran the washcloth

over that beautiful thick throat, then up, to wipe the spatter of black from his cheek.

Qhuinn sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

"…Feels nice."

Blay managed a smile, his chest swelling with pride. "I'm glad."

He followed a long drip of dried lesser blood that ran from Qhuinn's collarbone and to

the middle of his stomach. Every last inch of skin was meticulously scrubbed with the
cloth. Blay tried to ignore the fact that Qhuinn's jeans were most definitely low-riders.
Every so often, he pulled the cloth away and wrung out the inky black water, then re-
lathered it with the fresh minty soap.

"You didn't have to do this…" He heard Qhuinn say.

Blay placed the lathered washcloth back onto his stomach and scrubbed away the last

remnants of the black blood. "I wanted to."

Qhuinn's hands suddenly came up and took Blay's wrists in a gentle but firm grip. Blay

expected to be asked to stop, but instead, Qhuinn took a step backwards, to stand
directly beneath the hot spray of the showerhead, and pulled Blay with him. The water
cascaded down their bodies, matting their hair to their foreheads and causing Qhuinn's
jeans to cling to him in a way that looked uncomfortable. Blay lowered his head and
watched as the suds were washed away.

Qhuinn's forehead met his and rested there. No words were exchanged between

them, but that simple gesture said enough. Blay swallowed back the lump in his throat,
and he could hear his heart thundering in his ears.

What he would have given to kiss those lips again.

Qhuinn took the washcloth from Blay's hands, and began to lather it up with the minty

soap, and before Blay could think, those hands were on his body. He shuddered and bit
his lower lip, watching Qhuinn's hands guide the lathered washcloth over the spot on his
chest where the bullet had gone through.

"You don't have to do this." Blay breathed.

Qhuinn lifted his mismatched eyes. "I want to."

Eyes closed, Blay revelled in the feel of Qhuinn's hands on his chest, and when a

sudden thumb brushed over his nipple, he released a sharp gasp. One of Qhuinn's
hands circled around and flattened against the small of Blay's back, keeping him in
place. That touch must've made him look as though he was going to fall over.

"Shh…" Qhuinn met their foreheads again, and locked their eyes. His free hand ran

the washcloth up and circled repeatedly around one of Blay's shoulders. He smiled for
the first time tonight. "I like your shoulders."

Blay had to chuckle. "You've always had a way with words."

"I'm being serious, here," Qhuinn tilted his head. "They're broad and strong." The tips

of his fingers traced along the muscle. "Wish mine were like that."

"Your stomach is better than mine." Blay blurted.

It was Qhuinn's turn to chuckle now and he took Blay's hand, pulling it in and leading it

to rest against his powerful stomach. Blay swallowed hard and splayed his fingers,
wanting to feel as much of him as possible.

"Don't ever compare yourself to me," Qhuinn whispered. "You're beautiful."

"So are you." Blay frowned and ran his fingertips downward, tracing over gorgeously

defined hiplines, then stopped right when they hit soaked denim. He hooked his fingers
through the belt loops and tugged

gently. He knew he was going to regret asking, but…

"Why won't you take these off in front of me?"

Qhuinn swallowed loudly. "Blay…"

"Just tell me." Blay demanded. "I don't give a shit if it hurts, but I deserve the truth."

Strong hands seized Blay's hips and roughly yanked him forward until their bodies

pressed flush against each other. Blay's eyes widened and his voice caught. He could
very clearly feel Qhuinn's cock through his jeans. And he was hard. So very hard.

"Because," Qhuinn growled. "If there wasn't anything keeping our skin from touching, I

would not be able to control myself."

Okay, this was so not what he expected.

Blay's head spun. Holy shit, Qhuinn wanted him. Actually wanted him. He could feel it

plain as day pressing against the front of his thigh; thick and hard and beautiful. His
breathing quickened and, before he knew it, the bastard between his own legs has
woken up and was standing at attention. He flushed and spun around, covering himself
with his hand before Qhuinn could have a chance to see it.

"Shit…" He mumbled.

Well, wasn't this fucking perfect.

Blay opened his mouth to blurt out a lame ass excuse of an apology, when the warmth

of Qhuinn's body pressed into his back and trapped his voice in his throat. Qhuinn was
breathing hard, and Blay felt the cool touch of every puff of air on the back of his neck.
Goosebumps prickled all over his skin. Qhuinn's hand slipped around his hip and
flattened itself against his stomach. He held his breath until his lungs hurt.

Blay had never been more nervous, more embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I

—"

"Take your hand away…" Qhuinn cut him off, breath tickling his ear. "Let me see you."

Blay hesitated, then, trembling, lowered his hands and uncovered his throbbing cock.

He closed his eyes tight, cheeks hot. Qhuinn had never seen him like this, and he was
scared… honestly fucking scared that he wasn't going to be good enough. Qhuinn had
had his share of countless sex partners, and all of them were female. He'd never been
with a male. Blay's bobbing, swollen erection was probably repulsive to him.

He waited as Qhuinn leaned in a little closer, his head peering over Blay's shoulder.

There was a sudden sharp intake of breath.

"Fuck," Qhuinn growled softly. "Look at you."

Blay frowned and opened his eyes, turning his head to look upon his friend's face.

Qhuinn's eyes were practically glazed over as he stared down; his mouth was hanging
open, the loop embedded in his lower lip catching the light.

"Is it all right?" Blay asked softly.

Qhuinn growled again, fiercer, and buried his face in Blay's shoulder. His lips parted

and softly kissed at the wet skin there, making Blay shudder and arch his body. The
hand on his stomach held him firmly in place, though.

"You're fucking perfect." Qhuinn said against his skin. "Every last inch of you."

Blay wanted to kiss him so badly right now. Actually, he wanted to do a hell of a lot of

things right now. He wanted to kiss him, tear those jeans right off him, and to fall to his
knees and thank the Scribe Virgin for whatever the fuck it was that led them to this
moment. After that, well…

There were a few other things he could do while on his knees.

The feel of Qhuinn's hand suddenly trailing lower snapped Blay out of those thoughts,

and he let out a soft moan as rough fingertips brushed over his slick shaft. The touch
was barely there, just the softest breath of contact, and yet it had Blay's hips bucking
wildly.

"Qhuinn," He moaned. "…Shit."

"Is it okay if I touch you here?" Qhuinn brushed his lips over the side of Blay's neck,

where his pulse raced just beneath the skin. "It's okay if you'd rather I not

—"

"Shut the fuck up and touch me again." Blay groaned and pressed himself against

Qhuinn's hand.

He felt Qhuinn grin against his skin, and then those long, nimble fingers curled around

his shaft. They didn't grip or stroke; just slowly caressed up and down, running along the
shaft and then tracing circles around the crown. Blay shuddered and tipped his head
back, resting it against Qhuinn's shoulder. The erection behind Qhuinn's jeans was
pressed firmly against his ass.

"You're so wanting me right now, aren't you?" Qhuinn's voice was right against his

ear, and then Blay felt the pad of his thumb run over the very tip of his cock, swiping up
the glistening clear droplet that rested there.

Blay

whimpered. "Fuck… yes."

"Mm." Qhuinn rolled his hips, grinding himself against Blay's bare ass. "I like that."

Blay sucked in air through clenched teeth, and then those wicked knowing fingers

enclosed themselves firmly around his cock, squeezing until Blay gasped. Seemingly
satisfied with that reaction, Qhuinn began a slow, lazy stroke, and Blay nearly lost it then
and there.

Sweet Virgin Scribe… he'd never felt anything like this before. Sex with Saxton had

been pleasurable, yes, and he'd been gentle and warm and generous in everything he
did. But this… this was different. Fucking hell, this wasn't even sex! This was touching
and teasing with hands and words, and it was the hottest fucking thing Blay had ever
been through.

He felt like a virgin again in Qhuinn's embrace. He felt like he had never been touched

by anyone before this. Before him.

The pouring water aided in what Qhuinn was doing with his hand, slicking up the

silken skin surrounding the diamond hard core of Blay's cock and allowing those lazy
strokes to increase in their speed, but only slightly so. Qhuinn was keeping it agonizingly
slow, finding pleasure in torture.

"Qhuinn…" He reached behind with one arm and tangled his fingers through the back

of Qhuinn's soaked hair. "Fuck, more."

"More?" Qhuinn's lips found Blay's earlobe and gave it a little suck, which sent a jolt of

pleasure shooting below his waist. "Mm… more what?"

That fucking tease.

"You know what I want more of." Blay growled and clenched his eyes shut.

"I want to hear it."

Qhuinn's stoking stopped and he just held his hand there like the son of a bitch he

was. Blay growled loudly, tightening his grip on drenched black hair until he was
practically pulling on it. His cock twitched desperately as it rested in Qhuinn's loose palm.

"Fuck, Qhuinn!" Blay grunted and threw his other hand back, digging his fingers into

Qhuinn's thigh. "Go faster. Grip me again, but this time, go faster. Please, fuck, I'm not
going to last long."

Qhuinn hissed and pushed his hips hard against his ass, and Blay wasn't sure what

set his friend off first: the touch to his thigh or the begging. Either way, it worked. When
Qhuinn's hand started up again, his grip was as tight as it had been, but the motion of his
wrist was a million times quicker. The delicious sound of the wet flesh slapping together
at that speed drowned out the roar of the shower. Blay released a strangled half-gasp,
half-moan.

Fuck, he was so close.

"Open your eyes," Qhuinn whispered in his ear. "Open your eyes and watch me."

Blay did as bade, and when he angled his head down to watch what Qhuinn was

doing to him, a hot mouth closed around the back of his neck and suckled hard. Blay's
entire body quivered. He watched Qhuinn's hand around his cock, his wrist pumping in
rhythm equal to his heartbeat, and he nearly blew.

"I'm close…" Blay whimpered breathlessly.

"Let it come." Qhuinn was panting as well. "And when you do, I want you to say my

name, just like before."

Blay tensed. "Wait, before

—"

"I saw you," Qhuinn purred in his ear. "Yesterday, when I had brought down that

oatmeal for you, I saw your hand beneath the sheet, and I knew exactly what you were
doing. I heard you cry out my name when you came."

Holy shit.

"And you know what else?" Qhuinn drawled. "I came, too. In my jeans. When I heard

you scream my name, I fucking creamed myself and it never felt so good." He pecked a
tender kiss to Blay's shoulder.

Blay was surprised that he didn't feel the least bit embarrassed at that. He should

have been mortified. Qhuinn had watched him jack himself off, had heard him scream
out his name. He should have been horrified, but he wasn't. He was turned on like
nothing before. The thought of Qhuinn's eyes all over him… Fuck, he wanted to do the
same. He wanted to watch-

"Qhuinn!"

Hot, thick jets of cream shot out of Blay's cock without warning, coating the tiled

shower wall in front of him. He threw his head back and bucked his hips violently, stream
after stream of his seed pouring out of him. His entire body quivered, but Qhuinn held
him up, his hand refusing to quit until every last drop was squeezed out of Blay, and his
cock became soft in his palm.

"Love the way my name sounds coming out of you." Qhuinn released his hold and

wrapped both of his arms around Blay's stomach from behind.

Blay slumped forward, trusting Qhuinn to hold him, and he did. He panted breathlessly

and closed his eyes, the entire room spinning like he was on a goddamn carousel gone

haywire. He knew from the start that all that exertion wasn't the wisest idea when he
didn't have one hundred percent of his strength back.

Every bit of dizziness and weariness he felt was worth what just happened.

Every bit of it.

The roar of the shower was silenced suddenly, and when Blay opened his eyes and

looked over his shoulder, Qhuinn had just finished turning off the tap. One strong arm still
locked around Blay, he pushed open the fogged shower door and slowly helped him out.
Every step was a small struggle for Blay. His legs quivered under his own weight like a
newborn baby deer, but he managed to keep himself up. Qhuinn kicked his discarded
jacket and shirt out of the way, and then eased Blay against the counter.

"Lean against that," he ordered before bending down and scooping up the white towel.

Blay held up his hand, stopping him. "No. Just come to bed with me."

"You're soaking wet."

"So are you."

***

Qhuinn looked down at himself. His jeans were drenched. Beyond drenched. All he

did was stand in one spot and a puddle of water formed on the tile floor under him. He
shook his head. "Don't worry about me."

"Don't tell me what to do." Blay smirked and pushed himself off the counter. He

swayed a bit, but stayed up. He was so tired of being helpless. "Now, come to bed with
me."

The corner of Qhuinn's mouth twitched into a smirk and he flung the towel to the

bathroom floor. "You're a demanding one."

"You sound surprised at that."

Blay pulled open the door to the bathroom and stepped out, Qhuinn right behind him.

He felt that warm hand on the small of his back, always ready to catch him if the
dizziness came back. The cooler kiss of the air outside the bathroom hit his still wet skin,
making him shiver.

Reaching the bed, Blay collapsed into it, welcoming the warmth and softness of the

sheets and pillows. He really didn't care how much he soaked the fabric. Qhuinn came
over and pulled the sheet over Blay's body.

"Whoa, hold up, now." Blay seized his wrist. "What are you doing?"

Qhuinn looked genuinely surprised. "I was going to let you rest, and

—"

"Leave?"

"Well… I should." Qhuinn didn't look like he wanted to, though. He ran his fingers back

through his dripping black hair. "If Saxton comes back

—"

Blay cut him off a second time. "Saxton never comes back early unless he's called

back. He's dedicated to his work. He usually doesn't return until just before the sun
rises."

Qhuinn hesitated a moment, and then glanced out of the tail of his eye at the clock

mounted on the opposite wall. Blay had already looked at it. It was just after three in the
morning. Saxton wouldn't be back for a good two hours.

But, just to make sure, Blay locked the door leading out of the recovery room with his

mind. The sound of the loud click in the quiet room made Qhuinn grin.

"My, my. I give you one orgasm and suddenly I'm your bitch." He chuckled and pulled

the sheets back, ready to climb onto the bed. Blay's hand stopped him, and he sighed
heavily. "What now?"

Blay grinned wickedly, patting the mattress. "You want in?"

"Yeah."

"Lose the pants."

Chapter 8

"Lose the pants."

Qhuinn was at a loss for what to say as he beheld the other male lying on the bed in

front of him. Blay was sitting up on his elbows, rivulets of water dripping from his wet
copper hair and running down the front of his chest. His body was glistening with the
lingering moisture from the shower, pink nipples pert from the chill of the room and just
begging for his mouth. The white sheet gathered at his waist was being the biggest
fucking cocktease Qhuinn had ever seen. Resting just below his hips, it just barely
covered Blay up, but it left Qhuinn wanting to see oh so much more.

What had happened in the shower only minutes before didn't seem real to Qhuinn. It

was hard to believe that he had just done that with Blay. There had been countless times
when he'd fantasize about doing all those things and more. At this point, it was hard to
figure out which was a dream and which was reality.

Even thinking about it made the cock behind his jeans twitch and press against the

fabric keeping it back, desperate to be released. He was still hard. He could not take off
his pants like this. But, damn, the denim was clinging to him in places that he wasn't
aware even existed. The fabric hung heavily and his shitkickers sloshed with water. He
wanted to get out of these fucking clothes.

Shit, he didn't know what would happen if he crawled into that small bed with Blay,

wet skin against wet skin. There was no telling what would come over him. He'd already
lost control in that shower.

"Well?" Blay tilted his head.

Qhuinn cleared h

is throat. "I… I don't think—"

Blay sighed heavily and slumped back against the damp pillows. He closed his eyes

and stretched, his taut body rising off the mattress in a way that trapped Qhuinn's voice
in his throat. The way that back arced so gracefully, those ribs poked out from beneath
pale skin, the muscles of that stomach flexed… Oh, God, the sheet slipped lower,
revealing that beautiful sleeping cock.

Qhuinn turned around quickly and covered his face with his hands. What the hell had

he done? The reason he'd even shown up here tonight was to let Blay go for the second
time. After everything that had happened last night with Doc Jane, he had come to the
painful realization that he and Blay could never be. Saxton had rightfully taken his place
as lover and mate.

…Hadn't he?

"Would you rather I take them off you?" Blay said softly from behind him.

Holy shit.

Qhuinn froze, and then slowly turned back around. "Uh…"

Blay tossed the sheet off of his body and rose up onto to his knees. He crawled over

to the edge of the mattress and sat up, resting all his weight on his ankles. Reaching out,
he hooked his fingers through the belt loops of Qhuinn's jeans, just like he'd done in the
shower, and drew him close until Qhuinn's knees hit the side of the bed. He held his
breath, and when Blay's hands grasped at the clasp of his jeans, Qhuinn quickly cupped
his face in his palms.

"Wait…" Qhuinn whispered.

Blay paused instantly and allowed his face to be pulled up, the palms of his hands

rested lightly on Qhuinn's thighs. Qhuinn stayed totally silent, running his eyes all over
Blay's fair face. Those bright baby blues caught the dim light of the room as they locked
with his defective mismatched peepers. He caressed Blay's soft, full lips with the pad of
his thumb, and that gorgeous mouth willingly fell open for him. What he would have done
to have that mouth on him. All over him. His heart hammered in his skull.

"Do you want to kiss me?" Blay whispered so softly, Qhuinn almost didn't hear him.

His hot breath caressed Qhuinn's hand.

He swallowed. "I shouldn't."

"I never asked if you should kiss me. I asked if you wanted to."

Qhuinn had to smile softly. Pulling Blay's face upward, he leaned in and brushed their

lips together, but only teasingly. The sweet, soft taste that just barely feathered across
his mouth made him shiver. Blay released a shaky sigh and snaked his hand up
Qhuinn's body, warm fingers stopping to rest on his ribcage.

"In that case?" Qhuinn breathed. "I do. You have no idea how much I do."

Blay swallowed audibly. "Then do it."

Qhuinn winced and clenched his eyes shut. His fingers glided down from Blay's

cheeks, and used them to gently grip onto his throat. Angling that beautiful face higher,
he brushed his lips over Blay's strong jaw, and then up along his cheek. When he felt
those long lashes against his mouth, Qhuinn placed a soft kiss to each of Blay's eyelids.

Blay gasped softly and curled his arms around Qhuinn's midsection. Soft-tipped

fingers pressed into his back. "Qhuinn…"

"I wish I could," Mismatched eyes burned. "I so wish."

Qhuinn pulled away sharply and headed straight for the door. If he remained in this

room a moment longer, there would have been nothing to stop him from doing everything
he's ever wanted to do. He would have been on Blay in an instant, touching and gripping
and grinding. He would mark him with his scent, inside and out. Blay would regret it
afterward, no doubt about that. He wasn't thinking clearly right now. He was letting lust
get in the way of what was right for him.

He had a lover and that lover was Saxton. Saxton was going to be his hellren, and

that was that. Qhuinn had been out of the picture before, and he could very well do it
again.

As soon as his hand touched the doorknob, Qhuinn was suddenly grabbed and

thrown hard against the wall. The force was enough to knock the clock right off the wall.
The glass face shattered instantaneously when it made contact with the floor.

Qhuinn's eyes widened as his arms were pinned in place by Blay's strong hands. Blue

eyes blazed and pierced right into his.

"You're not doing this again." Blay growled. "You're not fucking walking away. You did

that three times to me, Qhuinn."

"I need to go."

"Fuck you."

"What the fuck do you want me to do, Blay?" Qhuinn struggled, but Blay held strong.

"Talk to me." Blay stepped closer so that they were standing chest to chest. His

fingers dug into Qhuinn's bicep. "Tell me what is going on with you. Why do you keep
luring me in and then abandoning me?"

Qhuinn snarled and turned his face away from his friend, his eyes pressing closed.

"Why do you keep trying to get close to me?"

"Oh, this is coming from the guy who just had his hand on my dick?"

He squeezed his eyes even tighter, if that were possible, and made no move to

answer. He wasn't sure whether it was because a lump had suddenly formed in his
throat, or that there really was no proper response to that statement. He felt Blay's hands
loosen their hold on his arms and slide up his shoulders. When they reached his face, his
jaw was cradled between two warm palms. Blay turned his face back forward and
pressed their foreheads together. Qhuinn kept his eyes shut.

"Let me in." Blay whispered and nuzzled their noses together.

Qhuinn's hands moved to rest on Blay's bare hips. He wasn't sure how long it took him

to finally open his eyes but, when he did, Blay's face was a blurred mess, and the
warmth of a single teardrop was running down his cheek. He never cried. Not in front of
anyone, but this… this wasn't just anyone, was it?

"…Shit…" Blay mumbled. "Qhuinn, I didn't mean to—"

"I snapped tonight." Qhuinn cut him off in a low, shaky voice. "Out in the field with

John and Tohr, I snapped. I saw those lessers, and I just kept picturing you on that
operating table. I kept seeing the look of defeat in everyone's eyes when your heart
stopped beating and they thought they'd lost you." He swallowed, another tear breaking
free and tumbling down his face. "When I thought I'd lost you."

Blay didn't respond, so Qhuinn continued.

"I ran right into the heart of gunfire. I didn't care what happened to me as long as

those bastards paid for what had happened to you. I had one on the ground and I kept

shooting and shooting until there was nothing left but a pile of mush where a head used
to be."

Blay's face, which was still blurred as all fuck, looked horrified. "You risked your life."

"They hurt your heart." Qhuinn looked down at Blay's chest and slowly traced a single

finger down the center of it. "I've already hurt it enough with all the bullshit I've put you
through. I won't let anyone else add to that pain."

That was when it happened. All the walls Qhuinn had built around himself from years

and years of being shunned and judged, the rows and rows of stone he used to protect
his emotions and his heart… they suddenly collapsed.

And he broke down.

Blay was right there to catch him when he slumped forward, the unexpected wave of

emotion making his entire body give out from under him. Qhuinn buried his face in Blay's
broad shoulder as he was slowly led to the bed and laid down. Blay was right there with
him, climbing in beside him and enclosing him in his strong arms. Qhuinn's whole body
shook with tears, and he tried not to sob too loudly against his best friend's chest.

Blay nuzzled his face into Qhuinn's hair and rubbed at his back, but didn't say a single

thing. He didn't rock him or coddle him or whisper that everything was going to be all
right. He just held him quietly and let him cry all his pain and frustration out, knowing that
was exactly what his friend needed.

God, Qhuinn loved him so much. So fucking much.

Qhuinn shut his eyes tightly, but his tears still managed to break through and fall onto

Blay's chest like warm summer rain. His head was heavy and his chest felt clogged and
his throat was sore as all hell, but he just kept crying. He couldn't stop it and soon, his
sorrow gave way into exhaustion.

And he passed out in Blay's arms.

***

Blay held onto Qhuinn until the clock struck five.

With great care, Blay slowly eased his friend out of his embrace and onto the plush

pillows, and then slipped off the mattress. Qhuinn's achingly handsome face was red and
streaked with tears and his brow was drawn downward as he slept deeply. Blay grabbed
the sheets and draped them over his body.

Dawn's arrival meant Saxton would be returning back to the mansion. He snatched up

his cell phone from the bedside table and padded over to the bathroom, closing himself
in so that he wouldn't disturb Qhuinn. The leather jacket and black wife beater were still
on the floor in a soaked heap of fabric and lesser blood. He scooped both of them up and
pitched them into the laundry hamper for Fritz to pick up.

The room was still warm from their shower. The scent of steam and water and

Qhuinn's body still lingered in the air.

God… Qhuinn.

Blay had never seen him break down like that. Fuck, he'd never seen a single tear in

his eyes from the first moment he'd known him. He didn't think Qhuinn was even capable
of crying. He was always so reserved about his emotions until tonight. The way he'd
crumbled into pieces right in front of him was absolutely heartbreaking. Blay could still
hear his choked sobs in his mind.

He'd run into the middle of gunfire for him. He risked his life for him. Sonofabitch

nearly had lead implanted in his skull, and he was going about it like it was no big fucking
deal. Just the thought of Qhuinn being that close to death made his stomach churn.

Blay shook his head and quickly dialled Saxton's number. As he listened to the

droning sound of the dial tone, he paced around the small room and waited. Saxton
picked it up by the third ring, and by the background noise, it sounded like he was in his
car.

"Blaylock," Saxton's voice was weary. Must've had a long night. "How are you?"

Blay swallowed hard. He hated lying, he really did, especially when the person he was

lying to didn't deserve it. But, damn it all, he was not going to let anyone disturb Qhuinn
right now.

Qhuinn was the most important thing in the world to him.

"I have bad news," Blay started. "Doc Jane is coming in and she's going to be giving

me some final examinations so she can finally let me out of this place."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Saxton replied.

Blay leaned against the counter and stared at his reflection in the mirror. "Jane needs

to be alone while testing me. You know how she gets."

There was a long pause, and Blay wondered if the connection had been cut off.

Finally, Saxton spoke, his voice tight. "So, this means I cannot come see you."

"Doctors orders." Blay sighed at the disappointment in Saxton's voice. He felt like a

total asshat. "Just spend the night in our room, all right? I promise I'll come up and see
you as soon as Jane lets me out."

Saxton sighed heavily into the phone. "All right. I will wait for you."

Blay smiled softly. "Thank you."

He ended the call with a quick press of a button and raked his fingers back through his

red hair. The last thing he wanted to do was lie to Saxton, but… damn it, he had to take
care of Qhuinn tonight. Qhuinn was all that mattered.

Blay pushed open the bathroom door and froze. Qhuinn was sitting up in bed, fully

awake, with the sheet gathered about his waist. He looked up as soon as he heard Blay
enter the room.

"You lied to him." He said softly.

Blay swallowed and leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb. He fiddled with the

cool metal of his iPhone. "I had to."

"Why?" Qhuinn's voice was stronger than it had been before. Previous to his rest, his

throat had been clogged with tears and his voice had been hoarse.

"You were out for two hours, and I wasn't about to wake you up and kick you out of

here after what happened. I didn't want anyone bothering you." Blay slowly approached
the bed, and tossed his cell back onto the side table.

Qhuinn closed his eyes and lowered his head. His long fingers curled into the sheet

and gripped it tightly. Judging from the tension in his shoulders, and the way his hands
trembled around the thin fabric, Blay knew he was holding back another wave of
emotion. That pride of Qhuinn's just would not allow him to show weakness.

Blay planted his foot onto the bed and hoisted himself onto it. The mattress rocked

and squeaked loudly under him. Qhuinn looked up with wide, moist eyes, and watched
as Blay lowered himself down right onto his lap. Blay straddled him chastely, their bodies
separated by the sheet and Qhuinn's jeans. Both his large hands cupped either side of
Qhuinn's face, and he proceeded to kiss away each teardrop that trickled down his
cheeks.

Qhuinn's glistening mismatched eyes closed, and he rested his hands on Blay's bare

hips. "You're too good for me."

"Shut up." Blay brushed his eyelashes dry with his lips. "That's not true."

"I'll ruin you." He opened his eyes and stared up into Blay's face. "Being with me will

ruin you. I'm poison."

"If this has anything to do with what your family did to you, I want you to cut that shit

out right now. Got that?" Blay's voice was gentle, but firm.

"They were right, though."

"Bullshit. They didn't know you the way I do. The way John and the Brothers do. We

accept you for who you are; flaws and all. And, believe me, not one of those flaws has to
do with the fact that your eyes are two different colours. You're a cocky, sarcastic, moody
asshat and we all love you regardless." He pushed Qhuinn's bangs out of his eyes.
"Bloodline does not always equal family, Qhuinn. I'm your family; everyone in this
mansion is your family. So you better fucking learn to get used to that or I'll have to
remind you of it every goddamn day for the rest of your life."

Qhuinn finally smiled, that strength returning to his posture and his eyes. "I'd like that."

"You got it."

Qhuinn's hands were running up and down his back, fingers firmly pressing into the

muscles of his shoulder blades. Blay's eyes fluttered and he sighed, the touch relieving
him of tension. When Qhuinn's talented mouth suddenly closed over one of his nipples,

Blay gasped sharply and arched his back. His tongue was warm and wet as it circled
around the sensitive bud of flesh and…

Holy shit, is that a tongue ring?

Okay, that was new.

"Fuck…" Blay hissed.

Qhuinn released the nipple with a soft, wet pop, and then repeated the action on the

other one. Blay felt, even through the layers of fabric separating their bodies, that his
best friend was hard as hell. Blay shuddered and rolled his hips downward in slow
circles, grinding against that bulge. Qhuinn made a noise around the nipple in his mouth,
something between a moan and a growl.

Then, he stopped suddenly, and laid his forehead against Blay's chest.

"I can't…" He breathed. "You belong with Saxton. He's a male of worth."

Blay panted softly and frowned. His best friend was being quite the buzzkill tonight.

"So are you."

Qhuinn shook his head, ignoring that statement. "He can provide for you. He's wealthy

and educated and respected. He can give you everything you need in life."

"Okay, first off, I do not need to be taken care of by anyone, you got that? I'm not a

fucking child. I can damn well handle myself." Blay growled. "Secondly," he softened his
voice and slipped his fingers beneath Qhuinn's chin, tilting his head up. "Everything I've
ever needed in life is right here with me."

And then it happened. Qhuinn's lips were suddenly on his, claiming his mouth in a

desperate kiss. Blay's eyes widened in surprise, his breath hitching and his heart doing a
back flip in his chest. Groaning, he gripped onto soft raven hair. Qhuinn's mouth was all
over his, nipping and pulling on his lips, pierced tongue seeking entrance inside. Blay
willingly granted him that, and both of them moaned in unison when their tongues glided
against each other.

It was unknown how long they kissed for. Blay wasn't exactly keeping track of time. All

that mattered was the taste of Qhuinn's lips and tongue, and the speed of his breaths
and the way his hands roamed all along his back and hips and thighs.

This wasn't like any of the other kisses they had shared before. This wasn't an

experiment or an impulse. This was raw and real and desperate passion. This was them
doing what they've needed to do for so long.

Blay was the one who broke the kiss first, and the pout that appeared on Qhuinn's lips

was damn adorable. Blay smiled and pecked a kiss to it. Both of them were panting hard,
and their hair was sticking up every which way from being clutched and played with by
needy fingers.

"Lay back," Blay said softly. "I'm going to take care of you."

Qhuinn did as he was ordered to do, his lips moist and bruised from the intensity of

their kissing. Blay rose off his lap and tugged the sheet down, tossing the damn thing off
the bed so that there was nothing to get in the way of their bodies. Moving to kneel in
between Qhuinn's legs, Blay locked his eyes momentarily, and then reached for the
clasp of his jeans for the third time tonight.

He wasn't stopped this time.

Blay made sure to keep his hands as steady as possible as he pulled the button free

of the thick denim and dragged the zipper down. He swallowed hard and glanced up at
Qhuinn. He was lounging on his back, both of his arms tucked behind his head while he
watched Blay with hooded eyes. His gorgeous stomach rose and fell with his deep
breaths, and the silver nipple rings caught the light of the room.

God, he looked so good.

Blay reached back and unlaced Qhuinn's shitkickers, then pulled them off his feet,

along with his still soaked socks. The boots clunked dully against the floor. The jeans he
wore were pretty much glued to his body, so Blay was careful as he peeled them off,
working his way down passed his hips, and…

Oh… my God.

Qhuinn's erection sprang loose as soon as they were free from their denim prison,

and the silver piercing on the head of it was the first thing that caught Blay's attention.
Yet another little detail he was never aware of. Then, his attention focused on the sheer
size of him. Qhuinn's shaft was thick and long, with a beautifully formed crown that was
already glistening with need. He was absolute perfection.

Mine, Blay said in his head.

"You keep looking at me like that…" Qhuinn said breathlessly. "…and, I'm not gonna

last long."

Blay made quick work of ridding the other male of those goddamned jeans, wiggling

them down his legs and then pitching them half way across the room as soon as they
were off. Qhuinn's legs fell open a little more, one of them draping off the side of the bed.
Scooting in closer, Blay began to run his palms over Qhuinn's muscled thighs, squeezing
tightly as he pressed suckling kisses all over that powerful stomach. He could feel
Qhuinn's fingers playing through the back of his hair.

He worked his mouth lower and lower, taking his sweet time. His tongue swirled

around Qhuinn's navel and trailed sweet kisses over his hiplines. Finally, he firmly
pressed the pad of his tongue to the base of Qhuinn's cock and ever so slowly dragged it
up.

"Fuck!" Qhui

nn tried to buck his hips, but Blay held him down. "…Shit, Blay."

"Mm." Blay pressed a kiss to the tip, smearing that glistening clear drop his mouth. He

licked his lips, relishing in the unreal taste of him. "You taste amazing."

Qhuinn's breathing was ragged. "Do it again. Please, God, do it again."

"Do what again?" Blay grinned wickedly.

"What you just did!"

"You'll have to be a bit more specific."

Qhuinn caught what Blay was doing and growled through a smile. "Payback?"

"You bet."

Hips lifted off the mattress and fingers tangled themselves in lush copper hair. "Your

tongue. My cock." Qhuinn hissed. "Right now. God, I need you."

Blay purred. "How? Like this?" He dipped his head and repeated his action from

before, tongue dragging up the underside of Qhuinn's shaft. That earned him a pleasant
groan. "Or… how about this?" He licked his lips, making sure they were nice and wet,
and then took Qhuinn into his mouth.

Now, that earned him a sharp gasp and a colourful curse. "Fuck, like that! Just like

that!"

Blay slowly moved lower and lower, taking inch by inch of Qhuinn's cock into his

mouth until the top of it just hit the back of his throat. Gag reflex thankfully controlled, he
pulled back with released him with a wet pop. His fingers curled around the base of him,
to knead the flesh he couldn't swallow, before he lowered his head and went to town.

"Blay," Qhuinn's groans echoed in the silence of the room. "Fuck, that feels so good."

Blay hummed around the flesh in his mouth, his head bobbing in unison to the motion

of his wrist at the base of Qhuinn's cock. Qhuinn's fingers gripped painfully tight to Blay's
hair, and those sinful hips of his rose and fell off the bed, slowly making love to the other
male's mouth.

And then he smelled it; the Bonding scent was pouring off of Qhuinn's body, invading

Blay's senses and marking wherever their bare skin touched. Even the flesh in his mouth
changed flavour, tasting of that dark spice. Qhuinn's slick precum dotted Blay's tongue.

"I'm gonna come, Blay…" Qhuinn's stomach twitched.

Blay slid his free hand up the mattress until it found Qhuinn's. Their fingers locked

together and Blay squeezed, letting him know it was all right to let go.

It didn't take Qhuinn long at all. Not two powerful sucks later, and his hips were

bucking violently off the bed. As Qhuinn's voice filled the room, Blay closed his eyes and
swallowed each drop of thick, warm cream as it shot down his throat. He refused to
pause his sucking for a moment until he felt the flesh soften against his tongue.

When Blay pulled back, he was panting hard. He and Qhuinn still hadn't released

each other's hands. Qhuinn was lying flat on his back, his body glistening with sweat and
his pecs pumping up and down in rapid succession. With a smile, Blay crawled up his
body and brushed their lips together.

Qhuinn growled and seized Blay's jaw in his hand. "Take my vein."

Blay's eyes widened. "W-what, I

—"

"Take it." Qhuinn tipped his head to the side, offering his gorgeous neck. "Please, I

need a piece of me to be inside you one way or another."

Blay could feel his fangs instantly elongate as he stared at that neck. He remembered

the way Qhuinn tasted when he closed up his wound. God, to have all of that on his
tongue and coursing through his veins…

Fangs broke through taut skin, and Qhuinn released a fierce gasp. Blay lowered his

weight down, settling comfortably against his body. His eyes closed as that warm, spiced
blood pouring into his mouth, coating his tongue and seeping down his throat. He felt
Qhuinn's arms close around him, holding him tightly.

He drank deeply, filling his belly with that delicious port wine flavour as Qhuinn's

bonding scent drenched his body. Finally, after much time, Blay pulled back and swiped
his tongue over the bite marks, sealing them closed.

He rolled off Qhuinn's body and onto the mattress beside him. Both of them were

quiet for a while, their heavy breathing filling the silence of the room. Qhuinn turned and
leaned half his body off the bed, scooping up the discarded sheet. He snapped the thing
open and laid it over Blay's body, then drew him to his chest.

Blay smiled softly. "Your scent is all over me."

"Good." Qhuinn growled pleasantly in his ear. "It stays there."

Blay chuckled and traced a finger along Qhuinn's arm. While listening to the sound of

Qhuinn's breathing, the recalled something.

"You remember what you said to me a few months ago?" Blay asked quietly. "When

you kissed me in my bedroom?"

Qhuinn seemed to take a moment to recall, and then he repeated the words grimly,

"Try not to fall in love with him. He'll break your heart."

Blay nodded and pressed closer, not wanting that painful memory to shatter this

surreal moment between them. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I never did." Blay swallowed hard, locking Qhuinn's eyes. "Not for a moment."

Qhuinn stared down at him without a word, his face devoid of emotion save for his

eyes. His mismatched eyes were glistening, and Blay caught the tears with his lips
before they could fall. Their lips found each other once again and Blay kissed him with
every ounce of love that was in his heart.

Qhuinn pulled away and drew Blay's head to his chest, resting it there. Exhausted,

Blay closed his eyes and settled in, the rhythmic thunder of Qhuinn's heart lulling him.

Before he passed out, he heard Qhuinn whisper something into his hair.

But he didn't catch it.

Chapter 9

Saxton was waiting.

As Qhuinn listened to Blay's deep, even breaths as he slumbered deeply beside him,

he was fully aware of how much time had passed since he'd drifted off. Not ten minutes
after waking up, he had carefully reached over and grabbed Blay's cell phone from the
side table. When he saw the time glowing brightly on the screen, straining and burning
his exhausted eyes as though in punishment for what he had done last night, Qhuinn
knew that he needed to get his ass in gear. Everyone in the mansion above was
undoubtedly awake. Saxton would have been no exception.

His mismatched eyes followed the pattern of the ceiling tile. The pleasant warm

sensation of Blay's breath on his cheek brought the softest smile to his lips, and Qhuinn
turned his head on the pillow. Their noses brushed together, and Blay mumbled
something soft in his sleep.

God, what had they done last night?

Qhuinn sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. How long had he wished that he'd wake

up with that gorgeous male, his best friend, the only person in the whole fucking world
that he had ever allowed into his heart, next to him? He should have been cart wheeling.
He should have been able to get up and go tell Saxton to take a fucking hike, because
Blay was his.

He should have.

But, he didn't.

Everything that had happened last night between him and Blay had meant the world to

him. To be that close with Blay, both physically and emotionally, and to be understood by
him in his moment of pathetic weakness was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

Same went for that blowjob. Sweet Virgin Scribe, Blay's mouth was…

Qhuinn shivered and tried not to keep too focused on those memories, lest he lose his

cool again. He was already buck ass naked in bed with Blay spooned up against him like
a sleepy ginger cat.

He swallowed hard and ran his fingers through Blay's hair, as though it would be the

last time he ever would. The lush copper waves felt like spun silk against his calloused
fingertips.

Perfection against imperfection.

His Bonding scent was all over Blay's skin, and Qhuinn wanted to pick him up and

carry him to the shower to scrub it all off. Blay did not deserve to be marked by a male
that wasn't good enough for him. It was like being violated. No matter what Blay had said
to him last night, it took a hell of a lot more than words to make Qhuinn believe he was
worth anything. It had helped somewhat, he had to admit, but that familiar pang of self
loathing was slithering through his mind once again, the serpent flicking its tongue

against the memories of Blay's mouth on his; that one fleeting moment when the world
wasn't so fucked up.

"Fuck…" Qhuinn cursed softly and laid his head back against the pillow.

He had to tell Saxton everything that had happened. As much as it was going to kill

him, Saxton deserved to know the truth. He had been absolutely wonderful to Blay over
the passed few months. He took care of him and cherished him and treated him the way
deserved to be treated.

Blay had lied through his teeth to Saxton, the male who had comforted him and

mended his heart after Qhuinn

—the very reason as to why the lie had even been told in

the first place- had shattered it.

Fuck.

He wouldn't wake Blay for this. This was something Qhuinn had to do. This was

something he had been planning to do from the moment he walked in through that door
last night. Seeing Blay in the bathroom… showering with him… touching him… it had
distracted Qhuinn from doing what was right.

He would never again put his own happiness before Blay's.

And that was the meaning of love right there, wasn't it?

Last night had been a mistake. Qhuinn had made a fucking mess of things again. As

much as his heart ached to stay here and hold the only person he knew he would ever
truly love, he had to fix things. Releasing a sigh, Qhuinn reluctantly released Blay from
his embrace, and rose out of the small bed. He raised his arms above his head, arching
his back until he felt that comfortable crack along the line of his spine.

Qhuinn gathered up his jeans, which were thankfully dry, and tugged them on. His

socks were still soaked as shit, so he picked them up and tossed them into the laundry
hamper in the bathroom, where his shirt and leathers were already balled up. Shitkickers
were still damp, so he just carried them. He paused when he was just about to walk out,
catching his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Black hair sticking up in all directions, red teardrop tattoo on his cheek, piercings

through every place one could think of, mismatched eyes.

Yeah, he was a real fucking winner.

Anyone would be so proud having him on their arm.

With a grunt, Qhuinn tore his eyes off the freak staring back at him and padded over

to bed. Blay looked so strikingly gorgeous laying there in a tangle of bed sheets, his red
hair a mess, his pecs rising and falling with every breath. One of his arms was lying
above his head, and the other was stretched across the expanse of empty mattress as if
seeking out Qhuinn's body. Qhuinn wanted to lie back down and have that arm wrapped
around him; the one place he felt safe and unashamed of himself.

Swallowing down the knot in his throat, he took the sheet in his trembling hands and

draped it over Blay's body. He then stepped back, gazing at that perfect scene for a final
time.

I love you… He whispered in his head. Forgive me.

He left the recovery room as quietly as he possibly could, and gently eased the door

closed behind him. His fingertips trailed over the door, and then forced himself to get
walking. His shitkickers swung to and fro in his hand. The floor of the tunnel was cold
against Qhuinn's bare feet. Flecks of concrete and dirt clung to the soles. The air around
him was still and chilly and fluorescent lights buzzed high above his head.

The surrounding silence felt like death.

Inside his chest was no different.

Pushing through the door leading out of the tunnel, the warmth and brightness of the

mansion greeted him with open arms.

As did Fritz.

"Master Qhuinn!" The doggen started while carrying a tray of familiar smelling vanilla

berry tea, undoubtedly for Mary. "Are you all right?"

Not at all.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Qhuinn lied.

"Forgive me, sire, but you looked rather upset." Fritz bowed while still keeping the

silver tray upright. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes, actually," Qhuinn stepped closer and looked around the empty foyer. "Have you

seen Saxton at all tonight?"

"I am afraid Master Saxton has not left the quarters he shares with Master Blaylock."

Fritz's always welcoming smile faded somewhat. "Shall I summon him for you?"

Qhuinn shook his head. "No, it's all right. I'll go see him, myself. Thanks."

He slipped passed the doggen and headed for the grand staircase. He climbed the

steps, his hand running along the freshly polished banister that smelled of fresh lemon.
The cool air of the grand front hall kissed the bare skin of his torso, and Qhuinn thought it
would probably be best if he stopped by his room and changed. To have a word with his
dapper well-dressed cousin half-naked and covered in dried lesser blood wouldn't exactly
aid in his already shitty level of confidence whenever he was around the guy.

Rushing to his bedroom at a quick jog, he pushed open the door and nearly tripped

over the mounds of clothes left scattered all over the floor. Leathers and jeans and shoes
were thrown about the room, along with his weapons and a couple empty bottles of Jack
Daniels. Unlike Blay's spotless quarters, Qhuinn's room looked as though a hurricane
had run through it.

Still, he managed to find everything he needed when he needed it. Putting shit away

just wasted time in his opinion.

Qhuinn kicked off his jeans and pitched them at room's length into the already-filled

laundry hamper, and watched when they made a perfect slam dunk landing. He slipped
into some faded jeans and one of his band t-shirts, then topped it all off with his favourite
black hoodie. This was the nicest he could dress when meeting with Saxton, and when
he thought about his cousin's wardrobe of fine knit sweaters and dress shirts and
pressed slacks, it made him feel like a total slob.

His fingers brushed over the healing bite marks on the side of his throat.

"Fucking hell…"

The journey to Blay's room felt as though it took an eternity, even thought it was only

the next room over. Upon reaching it, Qhuinn slowed and paused outside the door,
listening for any sounds inside. The shower wasn't on, but he could hear the soft sound
of movement just beyond the door. Fuck knocking. He gripped onto the handle and
pushed the door right open, frowning softly at the sight of Saxton standing in front of the
dresser, wearing only his slacks. The light from the side table danced across the muscles
of his arms and the thick waves of golden hair that just brushed the back of his neck.

He looked stunning.

Motherfucker.

"Cousin," Saxton recoiled in surprise. "For what do I have the honour of this rare

visit?"

Qhuinn glided inside and kicked the door shut behind him, both his hands stuffed into

the front pocket of his hoodie. As his eyes moved around the room, he made note of
every single thing he saw: the spotless floor, the closet with Blay and Saxton's clothes
hanging next to each other, the dresser holding bottles of fine cologne and a hair brush,
the bed…

Yeah… didn't need to wonder what happened on that thing.

Everything looked picture perfect. It was the ideal room for a mated couple, and it

made Qhuinn sick to his stomach.

"Qhuinn?" Saxton's voice was low. "Are you all

—"

"Blay lied to you last night." Qhuinn cut him off flatly, his eyes still running over on his

surroundings. "Doc Jane never came in to give him tests."

When he finally looked over, Saxton's brow was drawn down. "I don't understand."

"I was there last night." Qhuinn turned and faced the other male. "I had come down to

see him after returning from rotation, and we ended up in the shower together. And then
the bed."

Some colour drained from Saxton's cheeks, and he cleared his throat, his composure

still as rock solid as it had ever been. "I see."

"We didn't sleep together." Qhuinn said firmly. "I admit, other things did happen, but

we did not sleep together. And I blame myself entirely for it."

Saxton clicked his tongue subtly. "So, that was the reason he deceived me?"

"No. The reason he lied was because I…" Qhuinn swallowed and bid farewell to

whatever dignity he had left. "…I broke down last night. Started crying uncontrollably for
no reason. You know how fucking loyal Blay is. He wouldn't let me leave in the state I
was in, so he called you and made up some excuse to keep you from coming in so I
could have some peace."

His cousin looked genuinely shocked at the news that Qhuinn had actually expressed

some emotion. Qhuinn never cried in front of family, either.

"Don't be mad at him, okay?" Qhuinn pleaded. "He didn't do anything but lie for me.

The sexual shit was my doing."

"I'm not mad at anyone." Saxton frowned. "He only needed to tell me the truth and I

would have had no issue with you and him being together last night."

Qhuinn blinked. "Say what?"

"I've told you time and time again that I would gladly step down if you only asked, and

I definitely know what I got myself into when I started being with Blaylock. I've always
known where his heart truly lied between us."

"You need to change that." Qhuinn felt emotion thicken his voice. "You need to

change the way he thinks about me. You need to have him love you instead."

Saxton crossed his arms. "I cannot force him to feel things he has never felt, cousin. It

has never been about love for us."

Qhuinn remembered what Blay had told him last night: "I never did. Not for a

moment."

"You care for him, don't you?" Qhuinn asked.

"Yes."

"Then fucking make him see that!" Qhuinn shouted. "Make him care about you, too.

Take him out to dinner, buy him shit, make…" He bit back a growl. "…make love to him.
Treat him better than he's ever been treated before."

Saxton's steel blue eyes studied him intently. "I do all of that, cousin, and yet his mind

always drifts right back to you."

"Try harder, then."

His cousin glided over and placed both of his hands on Qhuinn's shoulders. Like Blay,

Saxton was a tad shorter than Qhuinn was. They stared into each other's eyes for a good
long time, as though that blooded connection between them allowed their thoughts to be
shared. Saxton had always been Qhuinn's favourite cousin, despite the fact that he was
a dapper, sarcastic sonofabitch that was sleeping with the love of his life.

He was the only family member that didn't give a shit how fucked up Qhuinn was.

"You love him." Saxton said softly. It wasn't a question.

Qhuinn swallowed audibly. "Yeah."

"Then why do you do this to his heart and to yours?" Saxton's fingers pressed into the

muscle of Qhuinn's shoulders. "Why don't you just be with him?"

Mismatched eyes lowered. "You know why."

"You're a fool, then."

Qhuinn pulled away and stepped back, his fingers raking back through his hair. He felt

as though someone was gripping onto either sides of his heart and slowly tearing the
thing right in half. He backed up and rubbed at his aching chest, until he slammed hard
against the door. Reaching around, he found the handle and gripped it tight.

"You need to be there for him," Qhuinn whispered. "I'm going to break him, and you're

gonna have to be there to catch the pieces before they fall."

Saxton looked shattered. Honestly shattered. "I always have."

Qhuinn threw the bedroom door open and stumbled out of the room, nearly running

smack into one of the marble statues across the hall. That sculpted God-like body
reminded him so much of the moment when Blay had dropped that towel, bravely and
shamelessly exposing himself to Qhuinn for the very first time.

God, he had been so beautiful.

He clenched his eyes shut and covered them with his hands as he walked, not really

caring at this point about sight. If he fell down the

stairs… oh well.

"Qhuinn, I need to see you."

Wrath's thunderous voice from out of nowhere scared the motherfucking shit right out

of Qhuinn. He halted immediately, and turned to look through the open doorway of
Wrath's study. The King was seated behind his desk, as usual, and he lifted one massive
hand.

"Get inside and shut the door."

Being completely blind, it was impossible for Wrath, son of Wrath, to know that Qhuinn

had been outside the door, as he hadn't made a sound. He must've smelled him as he
went by or some whacked shit like that. Being the last pureblood vampire of their race, it

wouldn't surprise Qhuinn if their King's senses were a little more powerful than anyone
else's.

Swallowing nervously, Qhuinn swept into the room and gently shut the door behind

him. The study was bright and cozy, with the fireplace roaring by the open windows.
Qhuinn had heard the Brothers make comments about how nauseatingly colourful the
room was but, being colour blind, Qhuinn had no idea. It all looked grey to him, though
some tones of grey he could distinctly make out as being certain colours. Like red and
blue, for example. That was how he knew that Blay was a beautiful blue-eyed redhead.

Okay, stop thinking about him. Right now.

Across the room, behind a massive desk that looked so out of place surrounded by

dainty French furniture and décor, Wrath was sitting in his grand chair. George, his loyal
Seeing Eye dog, was at his side, his boxy head being stroked by Wrath's huge hand. The
King kept his eyes ahead, watching Qhuinn through his jet black wraparounds. Qhuinn
was almost sure those sightless eyes were piercing right through him.

"Yes, my Lord?" Qhuinn bowed respectfully, even though Wrath wasn't able to see it.

Wrath scratched behind George's ears, and the golden retriever leaned himself

happily into his master's touch. "I'm just gonna get straight to the point, all right?
Tohrment told me about your little freak out last night while out in the field."

Crap.

Qhuinn winced. "Yeah, well

—"

"You ran headfirst into the heart of gunfire, Qhuinn." Wrath cut him off firmly, and

didn't that just tighten his balls right up. "You could have been killed. As John's
sworn astrux nostrum, that was a pretty dumbass move right there."

Qhuinn saw no point in beating around the bush at this point. "I snapped, my Lord. I'm

sure you're aware of what happened to Blay the other night." When Wrath nodded, he
continued. "The second I saw those bastards, I remembered what they did to him, and I
just… snapped."

Wrath was silent for a long time, his brows disappearing behind his wraparounds.

"Tohr also told me what you shouted after you made chunky stew out of that lesser's

head." Wrath said softly. "About Blaylock being yours."

Fuck sakes, Tohr, you gossipy little bitch.

Qhuinn shut his eyes t

ightly and leaned back against the wall. "Shit…"

Wrath sighed and pushed his wraparounds up onto his forehead, and then rubbed at

the eyes that no one but his shellan ever saw. "Qhuinn, I want you to be honest with me,
got that?" He slid the glasses back into place. "Are you in love with Blay? And don't go
pulling a 'he's just my best friend' shit on me, all right? Rhage told me your Bonding scent
was triggered in the OR. That isn't something males do for just anyone."

Whoa, now.

"Uhh…" Qhuinn stammered. "I… well…"

"I'll take that as a yes." Wrath frowned. "Now, tell me why he's rolling in the sheets

with your cousin and not you."

Qhuinn stayed dead silent.

"If this shit has anything to do with those mismatched peepers of yours, boy, I'm going

to bitch slap you into next week. Do not think just because I'm blind that I don't know you
spend all your time moping around this mansion feeling sorry for yourself."

Okay, this was so not something he wanted to talk about right now.

"I don't mean to be rude, my Lord, but is any of this really your business?" Qhuinn

frowned.

"It is my business when you're letting those fucking emotions of yours get in the way

of your clear thinking out in the field!" Wrath slammed his huge fist against the top of the
desk, startling George and Qhuinn at once. "Whatever fucking bullshit you're going
through regarding Blay and your cousin, fix it!"

"I intend to do that immediately." Qhuinn rubbed at his chest.

"Good," Wrath seemed to calm, his massive shoulders losing their tension. "As for

your punishment regarding that little fuckup out in the field

—"

Qhuinn tensed.

"

—you're off rotation for three weeks." Wrath said firmly. "The lessers are multiplying

faster than fucking rabbits and I already have the glymera up my ass about it enough, but
I'd rather have one warrior off the streets cause he's here in the safety of the mansion
than because he has a bullet through his head. Course, this means John can't get out,
either. I'll give you the honour of breaking the news to him."

Two edgy as fuck males trapped within a house for three weeks with nowhere to go.

Yeah… that was going to go swimmingly.

"I understand, my Lord."

Wrath nodded and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Qhuinn bolted right the

fuck out of there. He shut the door behind him and cursed softly. Tonight was sucking the
bag. Really sucking the motherfucking bag. The interrogations just kept coming.

Next thing he needed was his parents strolling in through the front door to ask if it

were possible for their defected son to sink any lower than he already had.

Yeah, as if they had the fucking decency to think about him once in a while, let alone

take the time to see him.

Qhuinn saw John at the bottom of the stairs, making his way into the billiards room

where the sound of V and Butch's laughter erupted from within. The loud clacking sound
meant that they were playing pool. Butch was probably winning as usual.

He should've probably gotten it over with and told John the great news about their

three week lockdown courtesy of his fucked up head, but there was one more thing he
had to do first. Just one more little cherry to add to the cake that was his miserable
excuse for a night.

Qhuinn headed back to the recovery rooms.

Chapter 10

Blay's arm stretched out, intent to draw Qhuinn's body against his, but his palm only

found cold, empty mattress. His eyes fluttered open, and he lifted his heavy head off the
pillow. The room was dead silent, save for the faint ticking of the clock that still managed
to keep working after they had knocked it off the wall last night. As his eyes glided over
to the bathroom, he saw that the door was open and the room beyond was empty.
Qhuinn wasn't in there showering or fixing his hair like he normally did after waking up.
Blay peered over the side of the bed at the tiled floor. Qhuinn's jeans and shitkickers
were missing.

That wasn't unlike Qhuinn, though. The guy was always restless. It was near

impossible to find him just lying around. If he wasn't out in the field kicking ass, he was
working his own off in the gym, or getting some at the clubs in downtown Caldwell.

Course, maybe Blay didn't have to worry about that last one anymore.

Blay sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with the heels of his hands. Taking a

deep breath, he relished in the feel of a clear, painless exhale. His heart was beating
normally, his lungs no longer burned. He was healed.

He felt like a million bucks. Course, last night may have aided to that.

Ah, shit… last night. Saxton was still waiting for him.

"Damn it." Blay sighed heavily.

He had some serious explaining to do. Whether he was going to pay for his deceit or

not, Saxton deserved to know the truth about what had really happened.

Blay was not some pussy. He would stand by his mistakes.

Hopefully, Saxton would be able to forgive him.

His body smelled heavily of Qhuinn's Bonding scent, and Blay brought his forearm to

his nose and inhaled the dark spiced deeply. A shaky exhale escaped him. God, that
smelled so good, and as much as it was going to suck, he knew he'd have to shower to
get the scent off him before he went to see Saxton.

After all, the Bonding scent was there as a warning to other males to back the fuck off.

Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, Blay gripped onto the bed sheet and made a

move to throw the thing off of him, when the door to the recovery room suddenly opened.
He looked ahead and felt his heart swell in his chest when he met those stunning
mismatched eyes.

Memories of last night flooded into his conscious mind; the taste of Qhuinn on his

tongue, the sounds he made, the way his fingers tangled themselves through the back of
his hair. Blay wanted to experience it all again; over and over and over until they were
both unable to move their bodies for a week.

He wanted Qhuinn's hands on his cock again. He wanted to cry out his name.

He wanted Qhuinn inside him.

His best friend stood silently in the doorway, dressed down for the day in a pair of

Nike's and his hoodie, but looking no less beautiful than he did in his fighting leathers, or
with nothing on at all. But, there was something else about him.

That look on his face; Blay had seen it many times before, every time Qhuinn

emerged from one of the seedy bathrooms at the clubs after fucking some whore's brains
out. A sultry swing of his hips and a sly smirk usually accompanied it. It was a look of
both self-satisfaction and self-loathing. Pride and disgust. He looked as though he craved
nothing more in the world than a hot shower to scrub away the filth he just had all over
his body.

Blay thought about waking up alone.

Where the hell had Qhuinn been?

And what had he done?

Blay swallowed hard, fear suddenly gripping at his heart. "…Hi."

Qhuinn stood as straight as a board, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "Hi." That

husky, gorgeous voice of his was flat and emotionless.

Slowly, Blay peeled the sheet off of his body and stood, the cool air of the room

sending goose bumps prickling all over his naked skin. He approached Qhuinn and
desperately searched his achingly handsome face for whatever could be bothering him.
Mismatched eyes glided up and down Blay's body, but what he saw within them was not
the appreciation or desire that was present last night.

This time, he saw disgust.

And suddenly, Blay felt very, very naked.

He stopped in front of Qhuinn and frowned, ignoring the nagging urge to run back and

wrap the sheet around himself. He tried hard not to blush. "Are you okay?"

When Blay reached up to touch his face, Qhuinn recoiled from his hand as though it

was going to burn him. Blay's stomach twisted inside him as nerves suddenly wracked
his body. There was something wrong here.

"I went to see Saxton." Qhuinn stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his hoodie

and looked about as I don't give a shit as he'd ever seen him.

Blay eyed his best friend suspiciously. "For what, exactly?"

"I told him what happened between us last night." Qhuinn brushed passed him and

strolled into the room. He wandered over to the bed and toed at the sheet that had fallen
halfway to the floor.

"How did that go?"

"Fine."

Seriously?

"Uhh…" Blay was dumbfounded. "Really?"

"Believe it or not, my cousin isn't some jealous dick, Blay." Qhuinn shot him an icy

glare over his shoulder. "He cares about you enough to know that it was all a mistake."

Qhuinn was sticking up for Saxton, now? Okay, there was something seriously fucked

up about this situation. Blay was well aware that the two of them loved each other as all
blooded family did, but he knew damn well that Qhuinn resented his cousin. He'd caught
the dirty looks across the room more than once.

Blay narrowed his blue eyes. "Mistake? What, the lie, or…?"

"What happened between us in that shower and on that bed was the mistake. The lie

was just you pulling your 'loyal friend to the end' bullshit again."

No fucking way was Blay hearing what he was hearing. "You can't be serious."

"Does it look like I'm joking?" Qhuinn's icy glare never wavered.

Blay's heart started up, beating against the inside of his chest as though it was

suffocating inside him and was desperately trying to get air. Blay, himself, found it hard to
breathe, and it sure as hell had nothing to do with his injury.

He shook it off as best as he could. "Whatever you're pulling, Qhuinn, I want you to

stop it right now. This isn't funny."

The low chuckle from Qhuinn was downright cruel. "God, would you fucking listen to

yourself."

"What?"

"So loyal and so desperate for everything to be perfect, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Blay roared. "Last night meant as much to you as it did to me! I

saw it in your eyes!"

The other male strode over, his long, powerful legs closing the distance between

them. Blay refused to step back, and when their chests met, he glared darkly into the
eyes he had fallen in love with.

Qhuinn's voice was low, but no less vicious. "How about you stop and think about this

for a minute, buddy. Just because I shed a few tears does not mean it all had to do with
you."

Blay pressed his lips down into a tight line.

"My fucking family disowned me because I have two different coloured eyes." Qhuinn

continued, his voice breaking slightly. "They sent the honour guard after my ass and
nearly had me killed. And then you go on ahead and get your ass shot and pretty much
die on the table right in front of me. You ever wonder that maybe those two little things
may have played a part in the reason I broke down?"

No, he hadn't thought of that.

Shit.

"I…" Blay lowered his eyes. "I didn't. I'm sorry."

Qhuinn stared at him for a good long time, and then walked away, pacing across the

small recovery room as though struggling with his own thoughts. His hands were shaking
as they ran through his black hair; a habit Qhuinn had whenever he was nervous. Blay
watched him without a word. There was definitely something going through the mind of
his best friend. He was conflicted.

"Qhuinn…" Blay tried to keep his tone gentle. "Please tell me what's wrong with you."

"Will you stop being so fucking kind?" Qhuinn snapped. "Here I am treating you like

shit and you still go ahead being a motherfucking saint!"

Blay

was taken aback. "I'm… sorry?"

"Stop trying to come to my fucking rescue, Blay! I'm not this incredible male of worth

that you so desperately want me to be. Last night was nothing to me but an excuse to
get off. There was no other reason for me even coming to see you."

Blay staggered backward. "You're lying."

"What, you think now that we gave each other one orgasm that we're going to run off

and get mated?" Qhuinn snorted. "You're as pathetic as the whores I used to fuck."

Okay… that hurt.

"Take that back." Blay breathed. "Take that back and tell me you're lying to me. I know

you're lying to me!"

"And you're just sad."

Blay sprang forward and seized Qhuinn by the fabric of his hoodie, shoving him back

so hard that his head slammed against the wall. At this point, Blay couldn't care less. His
heart was in more pain than anything his friend could feel. "You do care, Qhuinn! No
matter what you fucking say, I know you care about me!"

Qhuinn winced and rubbed the back of his head. "That's cause you're my best friend."

"You said you wished you could kiss me!"

"But, I did, didn't I?" Qhuinn sneered. "I wished I could kiss you and I got what I

wanted. Just like I always wish to get fucked whenever I walk into Zerosum and I always
get what I want. It seems all I need to do is bat my eyelashes and people like you just
throw themselves at me. I warned you enough. I told you that you deserved to be with
Saxton, but you just wouldn't listen. You jumped right at the chance of kissing my lips
one more time."

Every Goddamn word out of Qhuinn's mouth felt like one more bullet going through

Blay's chest. He was being ripped at, but he was not going to to let it make him believe
Qhuinn's lies. His hand found Qhuinn's throat, now, and he was not being gentle in
grasping it. "You're so full of shit, you know that? Lie all you want, but I know you care for
me. I know you fell apart when I nearly died."

"That's just because we're friends. Do I need to fucking spell it out for you?"

"Fuck you. I mean more than that to you and you know it. Your Bonding scent was

triggered."

Qhuinn's eyes narrowed. "It was triggered once before, remember? When you told me

you were going on your first date with Saxton."

Blay recalled that as clear as day.

"The Bonding scent went off then, and I still let you go to Saxton." Qhuinn pushed him

off with incredible force, causing Blay to fall against the bed. "That's cause you're my
best friend and I couldn't stand sharing you, not because I was in love with you."

Blay panted hard, tears stinging his eyes until the male in front of him became a blur.

"I never said you were in love with me."

"Good. Keep saying it, because it is never going to happen." Qhuinn bared his fangs

viciously. "I didn't love you then, and I sure as hell don't love you now. Get your head out
of that little fantasy world of yours and wake the fuck up, Blay. I used you just as I used
those human females at Zerosum, and you let it happen."

He shut his eyes tightly and turned away, the tears breaking through his lashes and

falling down his cheeks in rivers. "…I hate you."

"About time."

Blay kept his eyes closed and listened as the sound of Qhuinn's Nike's faded, and the

recovery room door slammed shut. He was alone, then, in the choking silence of the
room, and he finally released every emotion in the form of a wretched sob. His throat
was clogged with tears to the point where it was hard to breathe. He clawed at his chest
as sob after disgraceful sob escaped his lips, wanting to tear his fucking heart out and
throw it across the room.

Blay clutched onto the bed sheet, which was not the best idea. The fabric was

drenched in Qhuinn's scent, which made him cry even harder. His tears soaked the
sheet as it was clenched in his trembling fingers.

Used. Like a whore. By the only male he had ever loved.

Death would never have been sweeter than at this very moment.

The squeak of the door opening once again was barely noticeable under the sorrowful

sounds coming out of Blay. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and tried to tell
Qhuinn to fuck off for coming back, but the tears blocked any form of decipherable words
from coming out in the blubbering mess that escaped him.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder.

And then a voice...

"Blaylock…"

Blay turned and buried himself against Saxton's chest, his tears soaking the soft wool

of the sweater he wore. He thought his sudden weight hitting the other male would knock
him over, but Saxton held strong, pushing Blay back onto the bed and crawling in right
beside him. He enclosed Blay in his embrace until all that surrounded him was soft wool
and strong arms and the comforting scent of cologne.

Fuck dignity. Fuck strength. Fuck it all.

His heart had been squeezed by Qhuinn's hand until it collapsed in on itself and sat in

a shrivelled dead mess inside his chest. He needed to cry.

"H-

he… Qhuinn… he…" Blay struggled to get the words out.

"Shh…" Saxton stroked his hair. "I know. I know what he did. I heard everything." The

grip around his body tightened. "I am so sorry, Blay. So sorry."

Blay clenched his eyes shut.

And prayed for death.

***

"You summoned me

—Sire?"

As soon as the door to Qhuinn's door swung open, he was on the floor. The soft

carpet that was cluttered with clothes and shoes and weapons greeted his body with
open arms as he collapsed onto it in a heap. His kneecap collided with the butt end of a
gun and his head smacked against the corner of his dresser, but no amount of pain was
distinguishable beneath the tearing feeling in his chest.

The walk to his room from the recovery room had been a hazy memory. Qhuinn

couldn't even recall it. All he remembered was the crushing weight upon his chest and
the look he and Saxton exchanged when they had passed in the tunnel.

Saxton had tried to stop him, to say something that maybe would have convinced him

to go back and fix things, but Blay's sobs echoing from the recovery room had torn his
attention away.

Qhuinn would never be able to forget that sound.

Layla, who he had called upon just before going to see Blay, had been waiting for him

in his room and he damn near gave the poor female a heart attack by stumbling in and
kissing the floor with his face. He heard her rush over to him, the long flowing white
robes she always wore as a Chosen sending a gentle breeze across his wet cheeks.

"Qhuinn!" She shrieked. "Dear Virgin, are you all right?"

No, he was not.

Not by a long shot.

His body shook violently with tears, and he allowed them to shamelessly pour out of

him in front of the female. Though, he did not make a sound. The tears were utterly
silent, save for the occasional choked noise and a gasp for air. Layla's delicate hands
grasped him under his arms and, with much effort, tugged him against her, so that his
head was rested upon her lap. He scented her worry for him, along with her naturally
lovely cinnamon fragrance. Seeking comfort, he seized a handful of the silky fabric that
made up her billowing robe, and held it.

Dear God, what had he just done?

Layla's hands were shaking as she ran her hand over his back in a soothing motion.

"My Lord, what has happened?"

Still, he would not answer her. Not really because he didn't want to, but because he

just couldn't. The look on Blay's face was burned into his memory, and whether his eyes
were open or shut, it was the only thing Qhuinn could see.

"

I hate you…"

Those words would forever ring in his mind.

"Qhuinn?" Layla brushed his hair out of his eyes.

He looked up at her and swallowed hard. Her golden hair was pulled back in a lavish

up do, some curled tendrils falling to frame her exquisite face. Those lovely green eyes
of hers were terrified and saddened all at once. She offered him a comforting smile, as if
that beautiful expression would somehow make everything better.

"I made Blay hate me," Qhuinn choked out.

She blinked. "I do not understand."

"I said things to him. Fucked up, awful things that hurt him. I made him cry." Qhuinn

took a shuddering breath. "I said them purposely because I wanted him to hate me."

Layla looked horrified. "Sweet Virgin Scribe, whatever for? Do you not love him still?"

"I do."

"Verily, I am confused, then." Layla frowned and tilted her head.

The naivety of The Chosen was such a lovely thing, wasn't it? Ignorance was most

certainly bliss in their case.

"He deserves better than me, Layla." Qhuinn hauled himself up into a sitting position

and rubbed his face with his hands. "He and I were getting too close. We were… intimate
a little last night and I felt horrible for it. I felt as though I violated him. I'm a freak and I
violated him and I knew he would never stop wanting more unless I pushed him away."

"But is intimacy between two people who love each other not a good thing?"

Typical question for someone like her to ask. Layla was an ehros, which meant she

had been trained all her life on the Far Side in the art of sexuality.

"It is." Qhuinn looked at her, the warmth of tears still running down his face. "But in our

case, it's wrong. Blay deserves to be with a male of worth."

Layla looked bewildered. "You are a male of worth, Qhuinn."

"Believe me, I ain't."

"Think me stupid and blind all you want, sire, but no matter how long I have spent on

the Far Side, I know a male of worth when I meet one." Layla's huffed and crossed her
slender arms under her breasts.

Qhuinn couldn't even smile the way he usually did when her stubbornness showed.

Her delicate little nose always wrinkled whenever she was displeased or frustrated. She
would have so been the perfect shellan for him had he actually cared about her the way
he cared about Blay. She was everything he had ever dreamed of. Everything his family
would have approved of. But that shit was never going to happen.

His heart was set and he was forever Bonded to his best friend.

Or… ex-best friend, as it now was.

Fuck.

"What did you say to him?" Layla asked softly.

"I really do not want to talk about it."

Layla nodded and didn't press, gracefully lifting herself off of the floor and offering him

her little hand. The way her gown floated around her soft, sculpted legs was the stuff
every male would have come his pants for. Qhuinn, however, was unfazed. For once.

"Come and sit upon the bed, sire, and let me feed you. You are pale and your skin is

chilled."

Qhuinn didn't want anyone's blood running through his veins but Blay's, but a male of

his race needed the vein of a female vampire in order to survive. He knew Blay and

Saxton both drank from Layla as well, as did Rhage and Vishous, who were both mated
to humans.

And he hadn't fed in weeks. If he kept at this, he wouldn't last the rest of the month.

He stood without taking her hand and collapsed onto the bed as soon as he reached

it. Flat on his back, the tears that still fell trickled down his temples and settled in his hair.
Layla's weight, if one could even call it that, rested next to him and she pushed up the
sleeves of her robe, exposing her lean wrists.

"Layla?" His voice was nothing but a choked sound as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Yes, sire?"

Mismatched eyes closed, and he saw Blay's face in the darkness behind his eyes. "Do

you believe that everyone deserves a happy ending?"

Layla's hand settled on his arm. "I do."

Still, after all he had done tonight, he could not believe that.

Chapter 11

For the next two weeks, Qhuinn moved about the mansion like a ghost. His presence

was known by everyone around him, but he acknowledged no one. He ate and slept and
worked out just as he normally did, but the spark that had once flickered so brightly
within him had been snuffed out. There were no sarcastic comments during Wrath's
meetings, no limitless energy in the gym, and no need to challenge Butch to a game of
pool. He didn't watch the Red Sox games with the boys or join John in a round of Guitar
Hero.

He was just there. Moving and breathing, but not truly living.

Qhuinn was aware how much the odd behaviour was worrying everyone. He saw the

concerned glances across the room and heard the whispers. John, who was still pissed
as shit for their three week lockdown, had asked him more than once if everything was
cool. Qhuinn always responded with the same thing: a shrug and a mumble.

The only person in the house he ever truly paid attention to was the one who seemed

just as dead as he did.

God, Blay always looked so shattered whenever Qhuinn caught glances of him on the

stairwell or in the hall. His blue eyes had lost their light; he didn't walk with that same
confidence, but rather dragged himself where he needed to go. Saxton was with him at
nearly every moment, in and out of the bedroom. He looked just as worried about Blay as
the rest of the house did about Qhuinn. Blay had moved out of the clinic and back into
the room he shared with his lover, which he rarely left anymore. He never ate with the
rest of the household, and he was never in the gym.

The only time Blay really went out was when he was called for rotation. Wrath had

given Blay the go-ahead to be back in the field with the Brothers once Doc Jane gave it
the thumbs up, and didn't that just make Qhuinn antsy as fuck. He didn't like seeing Blay
donned in leather, weapons bulging under his clothes, ready to go out and expose
himself to more gunshots.

Qhuinn would never be able to get the image of Blay on that operating table, his

leathers soaked in blood as they were cut off his body, out of his head. He feared that
one night, those doors would fly open and he would see it all over again.

If it were up to him, Blay would not leave this mansion. Ever.

Yeah, as if he had any right to say anything about it at this point. Qhuinn had been the

one to ruin that heart just as it had been healed.

He was allowed to worry, though. Just as long as he was silent about it, Qhuinn could

still worry whenever Blay stepped out that door.

Qhuinn padded into the empty locker room dripping wet with a towel wrapped about

his hips. The night's workout had been a brutal one. His knuckles were scraped and
bruised from him beating the shit out of a punching bag, his legs were cramping from
running on the treadmill for a good two hours straight, he had taken on the weights until
the cords of muscle in his chest and arms nearly burst through his skin. Physical exertion

was always the best medicine for him whenever his heart was fed through a wood
chipper.

And to top it all off, after this, he had some business to take care of in the Pit with

Vishous, as if he thought his heart would be able to take what he had planned.

He paused when he came upon Blay's locker, and he ran his fingertips down the cold

metal door. Qhuinn remembered the first day he and Blay had strolled in here together
with John as a group of young pretrans vampires, laughing together, so eager to be
trained in combat by the Black Dagger Brotherhood. Nothing existed for them except
talking about girls, videogames, and their upcoming transitions. There was no worry
about the war or thelessers.

That had been the good life right there.

Right next to Blay and Qhuinn's locker was John's, and across from them was Lash's,

the fucker who had made their lives a living hell right from the start. He had been the
reason behind why Qhuinn was now John's astrux nostrum.

Every class had an asshole. Luckily, theirs was long dead right now.

Still, in the mood he was in, Qhuinn wouldn't have minded Lash being around, just so

he could slit his throat a second time.

Qhuinn recalled the night Blay had strolled into the training center after his transition.

His had hit before John's or Qhuinn's, and man… did he ever look incredible. Qhuinn
remembered staring at his best friend when he pushed his new massive body through
the door, his freckled face no longer soft and sweet, but chiselled and strong. His body
was huge, his presence staggering. Blay had looked as though he could kill someone
just by looking at them. His eyes, though, had never lost that special sparkle.

Qhuinn's heart had never raced until that day, when he laid eyes on his best friend for

what felt like the first time.

He had been so beautiful. So painfully beautiful.

Qhuinn heaved a sigh and moved to his own locker, which he never had a chance to

open, because John had appeared out of fucking nowhere and shoved him against it
roughly. Qhuinn's head knocked against the metal door and he cursed loudly, his voice
echoing through the empty space. When mismatched eyes glared in John's direction,
Qhuinn saw his buddy was a whole lot of pissed off in one giant package.

Course, John had been nothing but moody since the punishment.

"The fuck was that for?" Qhuinn rubbed the back of his skull, which had been taking

one hell of a beating over the passed few nights.

John's blue eyes were icy. What the hell is going on?

Qhuinn frowned. "Gonna have to be a little more specific."

You and Blay, John signed furiously. You're both walking around the mansion like

motherfucking zombies. You won't talk to anyone or see anyone. The whole house is
worried about you two.

Qhuinn heaved a sigh. "I'm not talking about this."

Blay looks like he's been beaten from the inside out, you fucker, and I know your

routine when you're on a guilt trip. Working out is at the top of that list. John stepped
forward. You're responsible for this, aren't you?

"I said I'm not talking about this, John." Qhuinn turned and threw his locker open.

"Now, just leave me alone."

John suddenly slammed the locker shut, nearly trapping Qhuinn's hands.

"Motherfucker!" Qhuinn growled.

You're talking about this. John planted his ass in front of the locker and stayed there,

preventing Qhuinn from accessing his clothes. With me. Right now.

"I'm sorry, but I don't recall ever getting up in your grill when you and Xhex had shit to

deal with." Qhuinn wrapped the towel tighter around his waist. "This is none of your
business, John."

The only difference between us is that Xhex and I actually confronted our problems

together instead of avoiding each other and moping around looking like those sad
puppies in the ASPCA commercial.

"You do know that all I have to do is close my eyes and it's like you're not even here,

right?"

John flipped him off. Using both hands.

Qhuinn sighed and flopped down onto the wooden bench in front of the lockers, his

head falling into his hands. He had avoided talking about what he had done to Blay for a
solid two weeks now. Layla never asked again, and the Brother's hardly said a thing to
him when they knew he was in a mood. Fritz would occasionally ask if he was feeling all
right, but Qhuinn had chalked that up to duty rather than actual concern. He had been so
certain that he'd make it without talking about it until the end of the punishment.

John always had ways of fucking things up.

"I broke him, all right?" Qhuinn said through clenched teeth. "I broke Blay."

His buddy looked confused.

"I said some nasty shit to him, and most of it is not getting repeated." Qhuinn stared

down at his feet. "We got really close the other night. Physical shit, you know? No sex or
anything, but…" He swallowed. "I compared him to the whores I fucked at Zerosum. I
wanted to tear him down until he despised me. I succeeded, if you couldn't already tell."

There was a subtle metallic thud that followed that statement, as though John had hit

his head against the locker. When Qhuinn lifted his eyes, he was right. John had his
head tilted back and his hand was covering his face in a gesture of you have got to be
fucking kidding me.

Qhuinn pushed his fingers back through his hair and waited for the inevitable ass

kicking he was about to get from his good buddy.

Just tell me why you would pull such a douchebag move. John was surprisingly calm.

"He's too good for me, man." Qhuinn tried to keep his voice from wavering. "Being that

close to him the other night showed me how easy it would be to make him mine. That
would ruin him in the glymera. They'd shun him. I love his parents, and they accept me
and all that, but I doubt they would forgive me for ruining their family."

You tried pushing him away by saying all that. There was so much sadness in John's

eyes, that Qhuinn felt his heart crack a little. You thought that if he hated you, you
wouldn't have to worry about the risk of you two getting together.

Well, this wasn't the reaction he had expected.

"Yeah." Qhuinn swallowed.

Shit… John came over and sat on the bench next to him. He wrapped one of his huge

arms around Qhuinn's shoulders and gave him a squeeze. I know you love him. I saw it
when he almost died. And he's fucking nuts about you, man.

"Not anymore."

Don't assume shit too quickly, buddy. You put him through hell and he never stopped

loving you. I know for a fact that the Brothers and their shellans have had their moments,
and their hearts never stopped beating for each other.

Qhuinn had to smile the tiniest bit. "Being mated has turned you into a pussy, man.

You gonna write for Oprah next?"

The reply he received to that was a good whack across the back of his head.

I'm being serious, bro. John went over to Qhuinn's locker, popping it open and pulling

out Qhuinn's jeans and wife beater. He tossed them to him. You really think he'd just
drop you that fast?

"He told me he hated me." Qhuinn fiddled with a stray thread on his black wife beater.

"I made him cry, man. Like, sob. Was the most heart wrenching fucking sound I've ever
heard."

Fuck, John sighed.

Qhuinn shook his head and stood, dropping his towel where it puddled at his feet.

John turned away and allowed him to quickly dress. Qhuinn patted his back pocket and,
through the denim, felt the thing he needed to bring with him tonight. Once his shitkickers
were tied up, he clapped his best friend on the back of his shoulder.

"I'm heading over to the Pit to see V." He said as John turned back around. "You

wanna tag along?"

John looked confused. For what, exactly? You two aren't exactly known for hanging.

"I have a favour I want to ask him."

Qhuinn led the way out of the locker room and through the gym, where Zsadist was

busy beating a punching bag to sweet holy hell. He gave them both a nod of greeting as
they passed, too focused on his workout to strike up any kind of conversation. Qhuinn
noticed that Nalla's soother, which was attached to a long soft band made of silky pink
material, was draped around Z's neck where it bounced against his chest with each
punch. That male was such a proud father.

Qhuinn wondered if he would ever be that happy in life.

The journey out of the gym and to the Pit was long and quiet, no words needing to be

exchanged between the two best friends. As he walked, Qhuinn wondered if maybe it
was a good idea to ask Vishous for this kind of thing. It wasn't as though he didn't trust
the guy, but the last thing he wanted right now was more people in this house judging
him. He was pretty sure they all knew he had done something terrible to Blay. Thank
God none of them were nosy, save for John, but such was the duty of a best friend.

Still, Qhuinn would not wait until his punishment was over to go out and get someone

else to do this for him.

As they reached the Pit, the beat of Dr. Dre's 'I Need A Doctor' pounded from within

the place. Vishous was most definitely home. Qhuinn could feel the bass' vibration inside
his chest, and he paused as he raised his hand to knock on the door. Did he honestly
expect to be heard over the music?

He grabbed the door handle and pushed his way inside with John, just in time to see

Butch scream something at the Red Sox game on the flat screen. The guy practically
spilled the glass of Lag he was holding. His curses couldn't be heard over the music, and
Qhuinn caught sight of Vishous out of the tail of his eye. The Brother was at the bar,
pouring himself a shot of Grey Goose. Diamond eyes flickered over in their direction.

"I need to talk to you," Qhuinn mouthed over the music.

With a quick press of a button on a slim black remote, the rap music was suddenly cut

off, allowing the sounds of the Red Sox game to fill the silence, along with an annoying
ringing in Qhuinn's ears.

Picking up his Goose, Vishous stalked over to them. "What do you need, boys?"

Qhuinn cleared his throat. "Think maybe we can talk alone?"

"Butch isn't really paying attention."

Qhuinn glanced over at the half-breed ex-homicide detective who still had his ass

planted on the leather couch and his eyes on the television. It didn't even look like he
was aware that he and his buddy had company.

"How 'bout them Yankee's?" Qhuinn said loudly.

Butch's head practically pulled a Selma Blair in the Exorcist, and he glared darkly.

"Who the fuck used the 'Y' word?"

Qhuinn looked back toward V. "His hearing still works."

"Point taken." Vishous knocked back his shot of Goose and motioned to the next room

over. "We can talk in there. And, bud, you mention the 'Y' word once again under my
roof, I'm gonna have to kill you, true."

They followed Vishous through the door into the next room, which was pretty much

used as storage space for all of V's tech gear that would make Bill Gates cream his
pants. The place looked right out of a James Bond movie. Computers, laptops, cell
phones, GPS systems, security devices and all that deliciously nerdy shit were held in
locked bulletproof glass cases, ready in case any of the Brothers needed them. The
walls and floors were stark white. The sound of the baseball game was muffled into
silence once V shut the door.

Where are Doc Jane and Marissa? John signed.

"Marissa is at Safe Place working and my Jane is over at Havers' clinic with Manello

scrubbing in on a few surgeries. Some civilians were attacked by lessers last night. Poor
bastards were blindsided coming out of a club." Vishous growled and pulled out a hand-
rolled, lighting up. "They're getting stronger."

"Yeah, and John and I being on lockdown for another week isn't exactly helping us

beat them." Qhuinn crossed his arms.

"Your fault for pissing off the King, bud." Vishous exhaled a cloud of spiced smoke.

"Now, tell me what you came here for."

Qhuinn took a deep breath and swallowed, his heart pattering inside his chest. "I need

some ink done."

"And you couldn't wait a week to get it at a tat shop?" Vishous' brow drew down.

"It's kind of important." Qhuinn tried to ignore the look John was giving him, as if his

best friend knew exactly what he was doing. "And I need you to promise me you won't
tell anyone I got this, all right?"

Vishous shrugged and brushed passed them, apparently to fetch his tattooing kit that

was locked inside a tall black cabinet. "You've got my word."

Qhuinn nodded and watched as the goateed Brother unlocked the cabinet and pulled

out a box containing the very same inks and tattoo gun he used practically a year before
to give Qhuinn the blood red teardrop tattoo on his cheek and the date on the back of his
neck, both of which marked him as John's astrux nostrum. The kit was set up on a sleek
black table on the far side of the room, and Vishous pulled out a couple of chairs, one of
which he sat down on.

Qhuinn met John's eyes, as if seeking approval, and his best friend just nodded once.

"What do you need?" V snapped on a pair of gloves, smirking. "Unicorn? Butterfly?"

Qhuinn planted himself on the chair opposite and held out the inside of his wrist. "I

want a name on my wrist written in the Old Language." Reaching into his back pocket, he
pulled out a black leather wrist band covered in six rows of silver studs. "Make it small
enough to hide under this, but big enough for me to read when I need to."

Vishous stared at him for a long while, and then he drawled, "Let me guess.

Blaylock?"

Qhuinn could only nod, and he wondered how everyone in this whole damn mansion

knew what he felt for Blay except Blay himself.

"What the fuck is doing with you two?" Vishous scowled.

"Long story." Qhuinn tossed the wrist band onto the table. "I really don't want to get

into it right now."

Vishous watched him quietly for a good long time, and the subtle concentration in his

eyes made Qhuinn uneasy.

"You reading my mind?"

"Hard not to when those thoughts of yours are screaming to be heard." V said coolly.

"Must fucking suck inside that head of yours."

"He deserves better." Qhuinn looked away, as if breaking eye-contact would keep the

Brother from reading him any further.

"No, he deserves the truth." Vishous began setting up what he needed, opening a

bottle of deep black ink. "He deserves to know where you really stand in your feelings for
him, and he deserves to make his own decisions himself about who he wants to be with."

Qhuinn placed his wrist where V told him to. "If I let that happen, he'll choose me."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"He has no idea how much being with me will hurt him." Qhuinn listened to the high

pitched squealing of the tattoo gun as it was turned on.

"Not being with you is hurting him more, in case you haven't noticed how fucking

miserable the guy is." Vishous frowned.

"The glymera will

—"

Vishous cut him off. "You think he doesn't know what the glymera will think if you two

were together? I'm sure he's aware, and yet he couldn't give a rat's ass because he
loves you."

Qhuinn swallowed back the knot in his throat and watched as Vishous took the tattoo

gun to his wrist. He trusted the Brother enough to allow him to freehand it. He'd done the

same with the rest of his inks. The burning sting of the needle at his flesh felt comforting
in a way.

"I know how much you love him." V said over the noise. "And I don't have to reach into

that thick skull of yours to see it."

Qhuinn stayed quiet, pressing his lips into a thin line when he made eye contact with

John. His bud was leaning back against the nearest wall, his arms folded over his chest.
The look on John's face was all-too obvious that he agreed with Vishous.

Turning his attention to the tattoo, Qhuinn watched as Blay's name was slowly inked

into his skin, one gorgeous symbol at a time. The Old Language was certainly more
beautiful to look at than normal English cursive, and having Blay's name written in the
language of their race felt far more respectful. V's hand was dead steady as each symbol
was meticulously formed in the perfect size to fit his wrist without running off the edge.
Every so often, he would pause and swipe a clean cloth across the raw skin, wiping up
the excess ink and droplets of blood that formed on the surface.

"If you don't act soon, you'll lose him." V's diamond eyes peered up at Qhuinn from

beneath his dark brows. "That's the last thing I'm gonna say."

Qhuinn knew the bastard was right, and he was torn in half on what to do. As V

finished up, he sprayed the inked surface of Qhuinn's skin with cool water and used it to
clean it up. The skin was red and raw and throbbing, but damn if that name didn't look
beyond perfect on his body.

He couldn't imagine how it would look carved into his back…

Yeah, never gonna happen.

"All done." Vishous stood and began putting everything away. "Should be completely

healed in a few hours."

"Thanks, man…" Qhuinn swallowed hard. "Really."

"Don't mention it."

Qhuinn stared down at the inked name on his wrist, and felt his heart squeeze. He

brushed his thumb over the intricately drawn symbols. The heavy weight of John's hand
came to rest on his shoulder, but no words were exchanged between them.

Bringing his wrist up, Qhuinn placed a tender kiss to the name, before clasping the

leather wrist band around it and hiding it from everyone but himself.

Chapter 12

The icy caress of winter wind kissed Blay's skin as he gazed out over the mansion's

backyard from the terrace outside his room. The thick blanket of snow that now covered
a once blossoming garden glimmered like millions of little diamonds under the moon's
glow. Hands flat on the cold stone railing of the terrace, he breathed in the icy air, hoping
his expanding lungs could fill in the emptiness that was currently his chest.

He straightened and wrapped the lapels of his black silken robe tighter around his

huge chest, but the cold breeze still had a way of sneaking passed the fabric and
stinging his bare skin beneath. His nuts felt like they were close to falling off.

Before deciding to play Juliet on the terrace outside his room, Blay had taken a hot

shower, where he spent less time cleaning himself and more time holding onto Saxton as
they made love against the cold tile wall. Saxton was still in the shower himself, and the
sound of the running water was muffled out by the soft jazz music his lover always
insisted on playing. The smooth saxophone was a pleasantry for the ears, especially
when one was living in a house that constantly vibrated with gangsta rap.

And some heavy metal, if Qhuinn was added into the equation.

Yeah… no. No fucking way was he even going to think about that bastard right now. It

was bad enough Blay had thought about him when Saxton's hips ground him into wet
tile. He thought about him every time he and Saxton were together, and it made Blay feel
as if he were betraying his lover by doing that.

Still, up upon the terrace, with the moonlight flooding the wintery garden, Blay's heart

could not help but ache for his Romeo right about now…

And how fucking sissy was that?

"Fuck sakes," He cursed and rubbed his palms together.

Pointless thoughts. Pointless pain.

Pointless fucking everything.

Blay had been used and dumped like all those women Qhuinn used to fuck in

bathrooms, dressing rooms, and anywhere else that had a door and a loose female
waiting on the other side. Nothing felt worse than being played by the ultimate player.
Tears were shed and physical boundaries had been crossed and even blood, the most
sacred of all things, was exchanged between them at the throat. And for what? A fucking
meaningless orgasm that left Blay feeling dead inside.

He knew Qhuinn was an asshole, but he never saw him as heartless.

Maybe he didn't know him as much as he thought he did.

Standing out on the terrace, Blay was met with an agonizing battle between

screaming to the wind until his lungs gave out and his heart exploded in his chest, and

jumping off the railing with hopes of his body causing a Mortal Kombat-worthy splatter on
the ground far below.

Blue eyes glanced sidelong at the double glass doors that led into Qhuinn's bedroom,

which was right next to his own. No golden light was streaming out onto the terrace like it
normally did at this time of evening. It seemed his friend

—or rather… ex-friend—wasn't

around tonight. With curiosity and his own pathetic heart getting the best of him again,
Blay padded across the cold terrace and moved to stand outside those glass doors.

The curtains weren't drawn, which allowed Blay to see right into the room. He took his

hand and wiped away the fog that the cold had set on the glass. Beyond, the room was
empty, save for Qhuinn's entire wardrobe that had been thrown all over the damn place.
The familiar forms of weapons were scattered about the floor and on top of the dressers,
and there were a good few empty bottles of Jack near the bed. Qhuinn had never been
neat; even his damn locker used to overflow with the amount of crap he had.

Blay stared at the bed, wondering how many times Qhuinn had taken Layla there.

Blay had never seen it or heard it, but he knew Layla was always visiting, and there was
no way in hell Qhuinn needed blood that often. It was painfully obvious that The Chosen
was infatuated with Qhuinn, and his old buddy was never one to turn down a gorgeous
female that wanted him.

Blay also wondered if Qhuinn and Layla were ever going to announce that they were

to be mated to each other. Then, he wondered if any of Qhuinn's surviving family would
finally accept him once he was hellren to a Chosen.

He then wondered why he even gave a shit.

Fuck, stop giving a shit.

He lifted his hand and ran the tips of his fingers down the cold, moist glass, imagining

what it would have been like waking up between the softness of Qhuinn's bed at his back
and the warmth of Qhuinn's body at his front.

Guess he'd never know.

"He's down in the training center." Saxton's voice caused Blay to wheel around.

Blay's heart hammered in his chest and he breathed slowly, hoping to calm it down

after the near heart attack his lover had given him. "What?"

"Qhuinn went down to the training center a few hours ago." Saxton repeated softly as

he stood in nothing but a towel outside their room. "I saw him leave with his gym bag."

Blay's face showed no reaction or emotion to that. "Good for him."

When he looked at Saxton, he noticed his blonde hair was still dripping wet, sending

rivulets of water running down his neck and chest. Blay frowned and came over, rubbing
at the goose bumps that covered his lover's skin.

"You need to get inside," Blay said softly. "It's freezing out here."

"Were you looking for him?" Saxton asked.

Blay ignored the question and took hold of the other male's arm, tugging him through

the doors and shutting them inside their warm room. He fetched a second towel from the
bathroom and used it to wipe away the rivers of water that were practically frozen onto
Saxton's chest.

"Well?"

Blay swallowed hard. "No."

Saxton grabbed onto Blay's wrists. "Blaylock…"

"Please, just don't." He pulled away and folded the towel neatly before setting it on the

dresser. He took far too much time smoothing it out.

Saxton's arms closed around him from behind and, by what Blay could feel through

the thin silk of his robe, the towel around his lover's waist was no longer there. The thick
hardness pressing against his ass made Blay arch and sigh deeply. Saxton's hands
slipped passed the lapels of his robe and settled on his chest.

"It's still fresh." Saxton whispered into his ear. "Let me help you forget again."

"Please…" Blay gasped when those hands slipped lower and lower, right where he

wanted them to be.

As his robe fell away from his body, and hot skin met hot skin, Blay closed his eyes

and allowed the sensations to carry him far from the pain.

Still, even after everything, Qhuinn was the first thing that crossed his mind.

***

"Inside, boys." Wrath's voice was grim. "And shut the door behind you."

Qhuinn shuffled into the King's study with an uneasy weight in his gut and moved to

stand by the fireplace next to John. Vishous and Butch followed suite and shut them into
the room that seemed entirely too small with all of them filling the space. It was surprising
that none of the other Brothers were waiting for them. Wrath was silent for a long while
behind his desk, his hidden sightless eyes staring straight ahead.

They had been called in for the meeting just moments after Qhuinn had finished

getting his tattoo. The call seemed far too important to have it wait until the tattoo kit was
safely locked away and they were all good and ready, so all four of them had dropped
what they were doing and rushed up to the study. Butch didn't seem entirely thrilled
about missing the end of his beloved baseball game, but the male was a devoted warrior
who never complained when it came to duty.

Qhuinn, on the other hand, had no issue with making his misery known. He crossed

his arms over his chest and leaned back against the marble fireplace mantle, the
crackling flames warming up his ass. The tattoo at his wrist stung like a motherfucker.

He wanted to look at it again, though. To know Blay's name was there with him

always.

"What's doing, my Lord?" Vishous asked as he shut the door.

Wrath sighed heavily, George's boxy blonde head rested on his thigh. "Got a call from

Rhage. He went to Havers' clinic to talk to the victims of that lesser attack. Apparently
they were attacked by half a dozen of those bastards, and all of them were fresh rookies.
Full head of colour and everything."

The collective silence was enough of a response to that.

"There's no way in hell all those recruits are from Caldwell," Wrath continued. "There

aren't enough people in this city for the amount of missing people to go unnoticed.
The lessers must be gathering fresh meat from Manhattan."

"Shit," Butch cursed and took off his Red Sox hat to run his fingers through his brown

hair.

"Yeah, I suspected that when I saw all that carnage in the alley a month back,"

Vishous shifted his weight to his other foot. "Resourceful little fucks."

The conversation was like white noise to Qhuinn's ears at the moment. While

everyone around him, John included, added to the discussion about the lessers and the
war and blah blah fucking blah, Qhuinn was fiddling with the leather band at his wrist.
The tender skin chafed painfully against the leather. Every so often, he'd pop the metal
clasp and take a peek at the name, just to make sure it was still there.

Yeah, like it was gonna get up and walk the fuck away.

Man, Blay's name was beautiful in the Old Language. The inky black symbols melded

so well together against his skin. The delicate swirl of the "B" and the harsh lines of the
"O" were created with the precision and skill that only V would have given him and only
Blay's name would have deserved. It was like a fucking work of art all on its own.

Just like the male that name belonged to.

Qhuinn finally tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Wrath utter the

words, "I want you all out on the field tonight."

He did a double take. "Uhh… but don't John and I still have a week of lockdown to

go?"

"You're off early," Wrath glanced his way. "It's far too fucking dangerous out there to

have you boys walking the streets in small groups. We're not forgetting what happened
to Blaylock when nobody had his back."

Qhuinn grunted.

Oh, gee… thanks for the reminder. Like I was going to forget that anytime soon.

John looked as happy as a clam with the news that Wrath's shackles were finally off

his ankles. Qhuinn should have felt the same, but he hardly felt anything anymore.

"Speaking of Blaylock," The tone in Wrath's voice was not comforting. "Qhuinn, I want

you to go tell him to get his ass ready. He's going to be joining you boys during rotation
tonight."

Everyone in the room shared an uneasy glance, save for Qhuinn, who was struck

speechless, and Wrath, who either didn't react because he didn't see the flaw in his order
or because he just didn't give a shit.

Probably the latter.

"Maybe I should do it…" Vishous offered.

"Qhuinn does it." Wrath said firmly.

V was relentless, though. "My Lord, I don't think that's a very

—"

"My Brother, do not make me fucking ask again." The King bared his fangs.

Vishous stood down and planted his ass back on the couch next to Butch. He held his

arms out to Qhuinn in a shrug that was all about the 'I tried, buddy, but you're on your
own'.

Wrath was not a patient male by any means, and as much as Qhuinn wanted to take

his sweet time when it came to actually walking out of the study, he was not about to risk
pissing the King off after he was just given an entire week off his punishment. The
tension was thick in the room, and that was enough motivation to light the fire under
Qhuinn's ass and get him out the fucking door.

Out in the hall, he rubbed his sweaty palms together and took a moment to gather

himself. He was such a fucking pussy, he was too scared to stroll up to Blay's door,
knock, and tell him to get ready to go out onto the field.

Just walk, knock, and talk.

Walk, knock, and talk.

Easy enough, right?

Stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets, he marched down the carpeted corridor and

stopped right in front of the room Blay and Saxton shared together. Soft golden light
poured out from the crack under the door, and there was the sound of movement
beyond. Blay was right behind that door. Qhuinn could sense his own blood within the
room, where it forever ran through the other male's veins.

At least there was a small part of them that could still be together.

Qhuinn lifted his fist and knocked softly on the bedroom door. Stepping back, he stood

amongst the stunning marble s

tatues and waited… and waited… and waited… but the

door was never opened.

Maybe they didn't hear me, Qhuinn thought to himself.

He knocked a second time. A little harder.

More waiting…

Still, no answer.

Qhuinn clicked his tongue with an air of annoyance, wondering if Blay was just being a

jackass and refusing to answer the door. With Wrath and the other Brother's waiting on
him, Qhuinn was so not in the fucking mood to deal with his ex buddy's smartass
behaviour.

Fuck knocking. Qhuinn seized the handle and

threw the bedroom door open…

Only to have his heart kicked in the fucking ass.

The scene only lasted a moment, but it was enough to steal the breath right from

Qhuinn's lungs. Blay was flat on his back on the bed, his powerful legs on either side of
Saxton's body. Qhuinn's cousin was driving himself deeply into the redhead, his lips
parted as he panted. Hands were tangled in thick blonde hair, and skin glistened over
strong, masculine bodies.

The sweet bliss that had contorted Blay's face, even in that split second before the

two lovers realized that they had been walked in on left Qhuinn feeling hollow.

And somewhat bloodthirsty.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Qhuinn shielded his eyes with his arm and turned away.

While he listened to Blay and Saxton scramble to cover themselves up with silk

sheets, Qhuinn's Bonding scent exploded off his body. Mismatched eyes clenched shut,
but the image of Saxton's hips thrusting into Blay… yeah, that ain't leaving his mind
anytime soon. He had to take a few very deep breaths to keep himself from flying across
the room and seizing his cousin around the neck.

Mine, he snarled inside his head.

Saxton's voice was breathless. "Not one for knocking, cousin?"

"I knocked twice and you didn't answer." Qhuinn kept his eyes turned away.

Saxton clea

red his throat. "Ah… well, we did not hear you."

"I figured."

He risked a glance over his shoulder, and the sight of Blay on the bed made his heart

ache. The male was flushed and turned away, his fingers tightly grasping the silk sheet
that he had held to his chest. He looked like a mess of emotions: ashamed,
embarrassed, hurt. Qhuinn swallowed hard, wanting to sweep across the room and
gather him into his arms.

He closed his hand around the band at his wrist instead.

Fuck, there was a fresh bite mark on Blay's throat. Saxton had taken his vein.

Holy shit, he was not going to be able to control his urge to kill for much longer. His

fucking hands were shaking and he was breathing hard. The dark spices were quickly
filling the room, and his cousin even took a step back because of them. Seeming to catch
the scent, Blay's blue eyes flickered in Qhuinn's direction, but quickly looked away.

No, look at me again… Please… You haven't looked at me in so long.

Saxton's stupid voice decided to cut in. "Can we help you?"

Qhuinn growled softly, but quickly feigned it as a cough. "Wrath wants Blay to get

ready to go on rotation ASAP."

"Whatever for?" Saxton frowned. "I thought he had the night off."

"Things change." Qhuinn snarled, and then touched Blay's back with his mismatched

eyes. "Meet us in the parking garage, okay?"

No response.

No surprise.

Qhuinn booked it out of the room as quickly as his shitkickers could take him. Vishous,

Butch and John were no longer in Wrath's office when he passed by, so Qhuinn
suspected they had all gone off to change into their leathers and cover their bodies in
enough weaponry to take down a small army.

Which meant he had to do the same.

Sighing, Qhuinn pivoted around and headed to his bedroom, making sure not to look

at Blay's door as he did. Tearing open his closet doors, he threw on the same clothes
Blay had taken off his body in that shower two weeks ago. Even the jeans were the
same. The leathers were cleaned of all lesser blood and looked as good as new. He
didn't know how Fritz did it, but the doggen was a goddamn miracle worker with clothes.

With his Bonding scent at maximum capacity, he strapped on his daggers and slipped

a couple of guns into the holders at either hip. How sweet it would have been to use
these things on his cousin right about now.

Probably a good idea to avoid him for the rest of the night.

When he went to meet everyone in the underground parking garage, Blay was already

there, dressed to kill and ready to go. His red hair was neatly brushed and he was
packing some serious heat, given the amount of bulges beneath his leathers. He refused
to look up when Qhuinn approached. The guy was quick when it came to getting ready;
Qhuinn would give him that, which meant Blay probably didn't shower.

Which meant Saxton's scent and his sweat was still all over him.

Which meant Qhuinn was gonna strangle a bitch if he didn't find something to distract

himself with.

He turned his mismatched eyes to the fluorescent lights above and inhaled the icy air

and the scent of gasoline and car exhaust. His breath left his mouth in white puffs of
moisture. Blay's bright yellow Hummer was parked across the way next to Beth's little
silver car and a black Bentley that reminded him of the one Rehvenge drove around in.
Everyone was gathered around Vishous' Escalade.

"We all here?" V said around the hand-rolled between his lips. "Good."

Qhuinn felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to meet John's sapphire eyes.

Everything go okay? John signed.

Qhuinn just shook his head, knowing he was within earshot of his ex-best friend.

Vishous and Butch took the two front seats of the Escalade, and Blay didn't hesitate to

climb into the back seat first. Qhuinn was about to follow, but thought better of it and
allowed John to climb in before him, so he sat between them. It was still going to hurt like
fuck being in an enclosed space with Blay, but at least they weren't touching.

Blay didn't have to touch or talk or look at him. He just needed to tolerate his presence

for the night, have his back in case any lessers showed up, and then when the sun came
up and they returned to the mansion, he could go ahead and continue living his life
pretending that Qhuinn didn't exist.

It was better that way for both of them.

Chapter 13

Forehead pressed to cold glass, Blay gazed out the back window of V's Escalade,

watching as the streets of Caldwell flew passed him. The headlights and streetlights and
neon signs of the city blurred together to create an endless ethereal stream of light that
surrounded the car. Flurries of white snow whistled passed the windows, looking like one
of those screensavers that made it seem like you were traveling through a starry night
sky at light speed. The speakers on the inside of the door vibrated with the heavy
pounding base of Eminem's 'Lose Yourself' as Vishous turned the Escalade down
another busy intersection.

At his left, John was busy preoccupying himself with a game on his iPhone, and

judging by the subtle squawking and oinking that could be heard under the song's
chorus, he was losing at Angry Birds. Blay knew that if his buddy could talk, he'd
probably be swearing up a storm. That game was the definition of frustration.

Turning his head to peer at the screen, he caught sight of Qhuinn's profile out of the

tail of his eye. That beautiful male was turned towards John, mismatched eyes locked on
the game as their buddy launched a little yellow bird at a tower of boxes and little green
pigs. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, as he fiddled with this studded
leather wristband that Blay had never seen before. The iPhone's glow washed over
Qhuinn's face, casting harsh shadows across his sharp, handsome features.

Features Blay wanted to touch and kiss and punch all at the same time.

Growling, Blay turned away and set his eyes back on the city lights. He thought back

on earlier tonight. Qhuinn had walked in on him and Saxton, and though it was probably
one of the most embarrassing things Blay had ever experienced, he was not upset that it
happened. With all the times Blay had to witness the male he loved fucking some sleazy
female, with all the times their eyes met as Qhuinn thrust himself into some nameless
human whore, Blay felt a little piece of himself die inside. Now, it felt beyond gratifying to
know the other male knew what it was like. He now knew what it was like to be on the
outside looking in. He now knew the pain of seeing something you could never have.

Fucker deserved it.

"We should try near the bridge," Blay heard Vishous mutter to Butch. "Those bastards

have been spotted more than once gathered around that area in their little hordes."

Butch nodded as he leaned forward and skipped through the sounds on the

Escalade's badass stereo system, searching for a good song. It was a lucky thing that he
and V shared the same taste in music, and that they were so damn close. Anyone else
tried to mess with V's tunes and they'd be bitch slapped.

John's angry huff of breath next to Blay meant that he had lost another level.

"Mind if I see that, bud?" Qhuinn chuckled softly and held his palm out. "It's a tricky

level. I bet I could beat it."

Blay wasn't sure why he got so pissed at that, but he did.

"So, you suddenly like asking people to use things, now?" Blay said darkly, his eyes

still focused on the lights outside.

A long silence followed, before Qhuinn replied with an "Excuse me?"

"I just thought you had a thing about using shit without asking."

When Blay finally turned back to the others, he met Qhuinn's confused eyes. His palm

was still held out in midair, but the iPhone was long forgotten. John was watching him,
too, but sidelong and looking quite tense. Even Butch had glanced over his shoulder to
see what was doing.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Qhuinn's brow furrowed.

Blay ignored him and looked at John. "Careful about handing your phone over to him.

He likes to throw shit away after he's done using it."

"I respect John's property." Qhuinn frowned.

"So, it's just people you throw away? Great priorities you have set."

Seeming to finally get where Blay was coming from, Qhuinn growled. "If you got

something to say, Blay, fucking say it to my face."

"Okay, how about fuck you?"

The other male leaned in close, practically putting himself on John's lap as he glared

at Blay. "Do you really think now is the best time to talk about this?" he said in a low
voice. "Of all the weeks you've been pretending I don't exist, you choose here and now of
all fucking times to bring this shit up?"

Blay made it so they were nose to nose. "Least when you're locked in a car, you can't

run away from your problems like you normally do."

A flicker of pain hit Qhuinn's mismatched eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it came

and he pulled back with a snort. "Suck my dick."

"Already did," Blay said shamelessly as he crossed one leg over the other. "And,

believe me; you're not as impressive as you think you are."

Qhuinn actually winced.

"Okay, ladies," Vishous cut in from the driver's seat. "You all done bitching back there

or do I have to pull over and have you go at it some more?"

Both Blay and Qhuinn remained silent, which pretty much answered that question.

Blay's heart was hammering wildly in his chest, and he wasn't sure what caused it.
Maybe it was the adrenaline rush of finally putting Qhuinn in his place. Blay was not
some pussy to be pushed around. He was a warrior. A strong, noble male of worth that
wasn't going to let anybody fuck with his head or his heart. If Qhuinn was too stupid to
see that, then Blay was going to make him see it.

Up ahead, the silhouette of the bridge was a deep, inky black against the starry night

sky. Vishous picked up speed, but not too much. The roads were dangerous as fuck at
this time of year. Butch rolled down his window, allowing a gust of icy wind and snow to
come flying into the Escalade. Blay squinted against the rush.

"Anything?" V asked as he peeled passed a slow SUV.

Butch was silent for a few moments, the wind whipping through his hair. "Yeah, but it's

still too faint to tell where they are."

Vishous nodded from behind the wheel. "We're getting close, then."

Blay reached into his leathers and palmed the butt end of his Glock, taking comfort in

the feel of the weapon in his hand. No way in hell was he going to be blind sighted a
second time by those powder puff motherfuckers.

"It should have been me…" Qhuinn suddenly said almost too softly.

Eyes narrowed, Blay turned back to the other male. "What should have been you?"

"Taking your virginity." Mismatched eyes locked onto his. "It should have been me

who did that. Not him."

Heat bloomed on Blay's cheeks, and he turned away, not wanting the redness to

screw up the fact that he was supposed to be pissed at Qhuinn. John's hands waved
about between them, but Blay didn't catch what he was saying. Probably something
along the lines of 'TMI'.

"Enough arguing back there." Vishous growled.

"Don't make him turn this car around." Butch added with a grin.

"Not helping, cop."

Blay ignored them both. He was saying what he needed to say to Qhuinn. "You had

your chance. Many, actually, and you blew them. Besides, at least Saxton stuck with me.
If I had slept with you, given myself to you like I wanted to, then you probably would have
just dumped my ass after you were done fucking it, like you do to everyone, and I would
feel even shittier than I do, now."

"Guys, I swear to fuck," Vishous diamond eyes glared at them through the rear-view

mirror. "Shut your goddamn traps before I do it for you."

That threat just went in Qhuinn's ear and right out the other. "I wasn't ready to decide

whether or not I wanted you, Blay. I was fucking scared. You think you have any
goddamn idea what it's like to wonder if you'll ever be good enough?"

"Yeah, I do." Blay growled. "I wondered that every night when I looked at you."

Well, if that didn't shut Qhuinn up, the sudden swerve of the Escalade did. The three

of them rocked hard against the back seat, the force sending them flying against each
other. The car was speeding out of control down the busy road by the bridge, the back

fishtailing until Blay thought he would die from motion sickness. All around them, car's
honked and swerved out of the way, some of them missing a fatal impact with the
Escalade by the skin of their teeth.

Vishous cursed loudly from the front seat. "Fuck!"

"The hell is happening?" Butch shouted as he gripped at the armrest of his seat.

"Black ice," V snarled, his knuckles going white as he gripped the steering wheel. Blay

could hear him desperately pumping at the brakes. "I can't control it!"

Butch took hold of the steering wheel, as if he thought double the man power would

somehow save their asses. Unsurprisingly, it didn't. The sheet of invisible ice that coated
the asphalt was massive, and Blay could see through the window as other helpless cars
drove over it and careened uncontrollably toward oncoming traffic.

"Should we jump?" Qhuinn asked.

"Into oncoming cars, are you crazy?" Vishous barked. His diamond eyes stared

straight ahead and he swallowed audibly. "Brace yourselves."

"For what?" Blay felt the colour drain from his face.

The Escalade jerked violently with a sudden impact that wasn't enough to even bring

the thing to a stop, and suddenly, they were flying. The car had careened off the road
and had busted through the side rails of the bridge. Icy concrete had run clean out and
all that was left for their tires to run on was air. Through the front windshield, the only
thing Blay saw was a shitload of water and ice.

The collective cries of all the males within the vehicle as it headed straight for the

frozen river echoed through Blay's ears. His heart pounded loudly in his ears. He wasn't
sure if he was going to make it through this; if any of them were going to make it through
this. He didn't want to die this way. Not like this, and not tonight.

He looked at Qhuinn and, just as terrified mismatched eyes found his, they hit the

water.

The car tumbled over itself, flipping until it settled upside down in the river with an

enormous splash. Ice cold water poured in through Butch's open window, filling the
Escalade's interior quickly and making it sink into the darkened depths ever faster.
Vishous began shouting something, but Blay could barely hear him over the thunderous
rush of water.

And soon, as the water rose up to submerge his head, Blay heard nothing at all.

The sheer temperature of the water was astounding. The icy cold touch sent a

shockwave running through his entire body. It was cold, hot, electric, so many things at
once. In all his life, Blay had never felt anything so goddamn cold. As he scrambled to
get his seatbelt off, his hands shook and he wanted so desperately to gasp for the air
that sure as hell was not there.

Both front doors slowly floated open and Butch and V swam out, dragging their

massive bodies through the icy cold. With John now free of his own seatbelt, Blay
gripped the handle and shoved the back door open with all his might. When it barely
budged, he used his shitkickers, which thankfully helped.

The two of them swam out and headed straight up. It was damn lucky the river hadn't

completely frozen over yet, and as they broke the surface, Blay gasped, taking in a
lungful of air he so desperately needed. His limbs were stiff and his teeth chattered and
his lungs felt like they were going to explode in his chest, but that wasn't the thing that
was worrying him.

Gazing at all the soaked faces that were floating above the surface, he noticed one

was missing.

"W-where's Qhuinn?" He asked V through chattering teeth.

"D-

didn't… s-see him come u-up." V responded as best he could.

Shit, no.

Taking in a massive breath of air, Blay dove back into the water, ignoring the protests

of the other males. The Escalade was at the bottom of the river, now, lying upside down
in the murky depths. With its black exterior and the darkness surrounding it, the only way
Blay found the damn car was by the way the chrome spinners caught whatever light that
broke through the surface. Thank the Scribe Virgin for V's expensive taste.

Blay used every muscle in his body to push himself through the water and to the

backseat of the car. His fingers found the handle to Qhuinn's door and he yanked the
thing open with all his might. As he peered inside, he nearly choked.

Qhuinn was still in the car, seatbelt strapped over his chest, and completely out cold.

His black hair floated around his head with the drifting tide. Blay swam close and
grabbed that beautiful face, shaking it and slapping it a few times, but he really didn't
expect that to work. Qhuinn was out like a light.

Working quickly, Blay reached in and unclipped the seatbelt that trapped the other

male. When his best friend's body floated downward, Blay slipped his arms around him
and, with his feet planted on the car's body as leverage, pulled Qhuinn right out.

But that sure as hell didn't last long.

Adrenaline and terror had been pumping through Blay's veins, but it had too soon died

away and the weight of Qhuinn's limp body was suddenly very real. Blay ground his teeth
together, growling through the water when his legs just would not lift the weight of the
other male to the surface. It was like trying to drag a fucking boulder.

Time was ticking by way too quickly.

Please, dearest Virgin Scribe, Blay thought. Please don't let me lose him.

A second set of hands suddenly slipped around Qhuinn's body, relieving Blay of half

the weight and allowing them to make the painfully slow journey to the surface.

John.

Lungs screaming in pain and ready to collapse, Blay broke the water's surface a

second time and pulled Qhuinn up with him. With John at his side, the pair of them
dragged their friend's body to the shore, where Vishous and Butch were waiting. They
lugged Qhuinn's body onto the snow and dirt and, together, collapsed in a heap of
exhaustion.

"Qhuinn?" Blay panted and crawled over his friend's body. Hands cupped onto

Qhuinn's face, cradling it as panic wretched at his heart. "Qhuinn!"

His friend didn't respond. Those lips of his were turning blue. He wasn't breathing.

"God damn it!" Blay sat up on his knees, pushing open Qhuinn's leather jacket and

removing the weapons that got in his way. "You fucking even think of leaving me,
Qhuinn, and I'm kicking your ass!"

Vishous dropped on the ground next to him. "What the fuck happened?"

"He's unconscious."

Blay tilted Qhuinn's head back and opened his mouth, remembering his CPR training

from when he was a pretrans. This would not have been the first time he gave Qhuinn
mouth to mouth. Last time was when his buddy was found nearly dead after getting his
ass handed to him by the honour guard.

That had been a close call. This time… this time he was not letting Qhuinn slip so far

away from him.

Vishous did a quick check of his vitals as Blay positioned his hands on Qhuinn's

chest, right on the notch at the tip of his breastbone. "He's not breathing and his pulse is
faint as fuck. Bud, you gotta act fast."

Blay nodded once and got to work, pumping Qhuinn's chest hard with his hands as he

counted to fifteen, and then covering his mouth with his own as his own as he attempted
to fill those lungs with air again. Each compression made Qhuinn's body jerk slightly off
the ground, but otherwise it remained motionless.

"Come on, Qhuinn!" Blay pleaded. "Come on! Breathe for me!"

He did this, pump and count and breathe, pump and count and breathe, pump and

count and breathe, over and over again in a steady unstoppable rhythm.

The sudden scent of baby powder on the wind made him pause.

"Shit!" Butch cursed from somewhere to Blay's left. "Small group of them heading right

for us!"

"Blay, we're gonna need your help!" Vishous barked.

"I'm not leaving him!" Blay snarled, and then closed his mouth over Qhuinn's for what

felt like the millionth time.

"Blay, if he hasn't responded by now, he's

—"

"Shut up!" Blay snapped. "You shut the fuck up right now!"

When the sickly sweet scent of the lessers grew stronger, and the pounding of

approaching footsteps grew louder, Blay watched as Vishous, Butch, and John took off
down the shoreline toward the enemy. Blay knew they would be able to handle
themselves on their own for now. All that mattered was Qhuinn.

All that ever mattered was Qhuinn.

"You're not dying," Blay pleaded as he resumed pumping his best friend's chest.

"You're not leaving me this way, Qhuinn."

The sound of distant chaos meant that the Brothers had finally caught up with those

undead bastards. The chorus of shouts and grunts and gunshots joined the surrounding
symphony of sounds, from the crashing waters of the river to the mayhem that was still
doing on top of the bridge.

Each useless compression and breath of air heightened the wave of panic that was

already consuming Blay from the inside out. The fresh burn of tears hit his eyes without
warning, sending streams of moisture running down his face to fall on Qhuinn's chest like
rain.

"Don't die," Blay whispered shakily against Qhuinn's mouth. "I love you."

As he sent another wave of breath shooting into Qhuinn's lungs, the other male's body

suddenly jolted to life, coughing and spitting up river water. Blay sat back on his ankles,
but still hovered somewhat over his buddy. Qhuinn turned over onto his side and choked
up the liquid that had filled his lungs, filling them back with sweet oxygen.

It was a few moments before those mismatched eyes finally turned to meet his.

There was so much within them; shock and confusion and adoration and fear. So

many different emotions swimming within blue and green, but still, Qhuinn would not
open his mouth and let the emotions become words.

The reality of their situation returned, bringing with it all the resentment and pain that

Blay had forgotten in that small moment when Qhuinn had come back to him from the
dead.

The wind was even colder against Blay's wet cheeks. Just as he broke the gaze

between them and turned his eyes to the snowy ground, Qhuinn's hand was suddenly on
the butt end of a gun and his arm was suddenly around Blay. With incredible strength, he
roughly threw Blay against the ground, knocking the wind right out of his already pissed
off lungs. The ear-jarring blast of a gunshot ringing through the air caused Blay to flinch,
and then it was followed by the dull thud of a body hitting the ground.

Lifting his head, Blay caught sight of the lesser lying only feet from where he was, a

gaping hole where his face used to be. When he turned to Qhuinn, the guy was all kinds
of don't fuck with me. The barrel of his gun was still pointed at the lesser's body, as if

expecting the guy to get right up again. Mismatched eyes blazed and the dark spices of
his Bonding scent mingled with the dank water and the baby powder stink of their enemy.

Blay wasn't even aware of the undead fucker sneaking up on him from behind, ready

to send another bullet through his chest. Qhuinn had saved his life.

Their eyes locked again. Blay broke the stare first.

"You boys okay?" Butch's voice sent their heads around. "We heard gunfire."

While Qhuinn only nodded, Blay motioned to the body, which John was already

getting ready to send back to their maker. "Lesser attacked. We're fine."

No more words were exchanged as John went through with the whole pop and flash

routine. After surrounding the spot with mhis to prevent anymore visits, Vishous pulled
out his phone, which thankfully survived the amount of water it took in. He dialled Rhage
and ordered a pick up ASAP, since none of them could dematerialize back to the
mansion with Butch around.

"Shit," V hung up and pushed his hands back through his black hair. "My poor fucking

car."

"I thought you were in need of an upgrade, anyways." Butch smirked. "How about a

Volkswagen Beetle? Bright ass yellow one. Can you imagine pumping out them ghetto
beats as you cruise around the city in that thing?"

"Bite me, cop."

John came around and signed to Qhuinn, You okay?

Again, Qhuinn only nodded. His hand was wrapped around his wrist, which, Blay only

then noticed, was missing the leather band. He must've lost it sometime during the crash.

Not that it even mattered.

Blay wrapped his arms around himself and waited for Rhage as he shivered with cold,

wanting nothing more in this world than to curl up in the arms of the male sitting only two
feet away from him.

In the silence that stretched on, those two feet felt like miles.

Chapter 14

"Open your eyes for me."

Qhuinn huffed out an irritated breath, squinting and cursing as Jane shone the

brightest fucking light right into his eyeball. "Fuck! Doc, I told you, I'm fine."

Jane ignored his words as blatantly as anyone could and closely examined each of his

peepers. "Pupils aren't dilated. Good sign. Are you feeling dizzy at all?"

"No."

"Nauseous?"

"This is getting a little ridiculous." Qhuinn wrapped the wool blanket tighter around his

bare shoulders, his shivering body still thawing out after his delightful little dip into that
wet arctic nightmare.

Jane straightened and pushed her glasses higher up her nose. "You were

unconscious in that car, Qhuinn. I'm just trying to make sure that banging your head
against something wasn't the reason behind it. A concussion is a serious matter."

"I told you I was unconscious because, news flash, I can't actually breathe under

water."

"Sassing me isn't going to make this check-up go by any faster, big guy." Jane clicked

off her little flashlight and stuffed the thing into the front pocket of her white medical coat.
"Blay asked me to do this."

Qhuinn felt his brows rise at that little tidbit of info, and he turned his mismatched eyes

toward the redhead sitting on the other side of the room. Blay was also wrapped up in a
blanket, donned in only his damp jeans while his eyes remained glued to the tiled floor of
the clinic. His thick red hair had dried a complete mess, as Blay didn't have the luxury of
a hairbrush since arriving at the mansion twenty minutes before.

Qhuinn had to admit, seeing that male with pretty much the equivalent of sex hair was

not only a total fucking turn-on, but it was also the reason he kept picturing Blay under
his cousin over and over again in his mind's eye.

Blay's head didn't lift at the mention of his name by Doc Jane. Vishous was next to

him, looking as pleased as a peach with a hand-rolled shoved between his lips while he
grumbled about the loss of his precious set of wheels. John was in the corner texting
Xhex, and Butch wasn't anywhere to be seen. There had been barely a scratch on the
guy, and the cold plunge they had taken hadn't been enough to threaten his human side
with hypothermia. The cop probably booked it straight to his shellan as soon as he had
the chance.

"I don't need to be mothered." Qhuinn looked down at his hand, which was still closed

over his tattooed wrist.

"I'm not mothering, Qhuinn. I'm doing my job. I don't mother anyone." Jane eyed his

hand through her rimless eyeglasses. "Did you hurt your wrist?"

"No."

"Why are you holding it so tightly, then?"

Qhuinn noted through the tail of his eye that Blay was glancing his way. He cocked his

jaw, albeit nervously. "It's nothing."

Jane offered him her palm. "Let me see it."

Qhuinn just shook his head like the stubborn little fuck he was, and Jane, having the

female equivalent of V's no-bullshit attitude, fearlessly snatched up his thick wrist and
turned it so she could get a better look. He had a feeling she knew Qhuinn wouldn't dare
fighting back with Vishous in the same room. The guy's diamond eyes were already
burning holes through Qhuinn's skull. As Jane got a good look at the symbols of the Old
Language that were permanently inked into Qhuinn's skin, her expression softened
somewhat.

"What does this say?" She asked curiously.

Blay's head was lifted, now, and his neck craned as he attempted to discretely catch a

glance of what Jane was talking about. Qhuinn's heart pounded and he made sure to
keep his wrist angled away from his buddy. He met John's blue eyes and exchanged a
nervous glance.

"It's a name." Vishous stated from behind his shellan.

Qhuinn shot him a glare. The fucker was so not helping.

"Whose name?" It was Blay who spoke last, and everyone turned to look at him when

the question passed through his perfect lips.

Qhuinn clenched his jaw.

Fuck, he hated lying, he really did, but…

"Layla." Qhuinn said firmly. "It says Layla."

Blay's expression may have stayed stone cold stoic at that little bit of news, but those

blue eyes of his never lied. Qhuinn could've sworn he saw the male's heart literally break
right there, and as much as he wanted to sputter out the truth and apologize, he
remained true to the lie he just uttered. John's huge chest expanded before he released
a silent sigh, and Vishous just shook his head.

Blay shifted, and he struggled with his words. "So, you and she are finally mating?"

"No." Qhuinn blurted without thinking.

Blue eyes studied him intently. "You have a females name inked onto your skin, like

John did with Xhex, and you're not going to mate her?"

Qhuinn had no response, and he almost turned to the other males for help.

"It's just like you to lead people on, but this? This is going overboard." Blay hopped off

the gurney he was sitting on and kept himself cocooned in the blanket. "Layla is a good
female and you know she has feelings for you."

"This isn't your business, Blay." Qhuinn frowned.

"As someone who was used and tossed by you, I think I have a right to speak my

mind."

Qhuinn shot to his feet, causing Jane to take a few steps back. "Still gonna bring up

all that bullshit in front of others, huh? Why don't you just stand at the top of the grand
staircase and fucking scream it for everyone to hear?"

Vishous suddenly shoved his big body right between them and growled. "Enough."

"I think everyone in this mansion knows what a whore you are." Blay spat.

"Oh, I'm the whore?" Qhuinn laughed bitterly, throwing his head back. "Have you

taken a good look at the male you're currently sleeping with? I've known my cousin for
much longer than you have, and I can easily say that I can't count all the guys he's
sucked and fucked using both my hands."

"Guess it runs in the family."

Vishous, who had calmly stamped out his hand-rolled and flicked the butt into the

trash bin, cleared his throat and looked over Qhuinn's shoulder at his shellan.

"So, is Qhuinn good to go?" He asked pleasantly. "No injuries? Nothing serious?"

Jane sounded perplexed

at her hellren's sudden shift in mood. "He's… fine."

"Perfect."

The world suddenly pulled a Tilt-A-Whirl as Qhuinn was hoisted out of nowhere by V's

strong hands and thrown over the male's shoulder. Being a tad smaller and a fair deal
leaner than the Brother, it was no surprise he could carry him. Qhuinn shouted in protest
and thrashed about like a toddler who didn't want to go to bed yet. The blanket that had
been wrapped around his shoulders was now draped over his head.

"V, what the fuck?" Qhuinn roared from under the fabric. "Put me down!"

Vishous grunted. "John, grab Blay."

"Wait, what?" Qhuinn heard Blay shout. "Dude, don't even try it."

Vishous began walking out the recovery room door, Qhuinn still slung over his

shoulder like a giant cursing sack of potatoes. "Follow or get carried. Either way, move
your ass, boy."

"Why do I have to get carried and he doesn't?" Qhuinn nearly whined.

Vishous' huge hands gripped onto the backs of his legs. "Because you're more likely

to run or fight me rather than cooperate. I'm just saving me the trouble of kicking your
ass."

"You're a dick."

Dignity pretty much fucked out the window, Qhuinn grumbled as he hung limp over

one of V's broad shoulders. With the blanket still over his head, he couldn't see anything
but the tiled floor of the clinic and Blay's shitkickers as he followed close behind them.

"You know kidnapping's a crime, right?" Qhuinn muttered.

"Shut it." V snapped.

The little trip out of the clinic didn't last too long. Vishous stopped marching and

turned, pulling out what sounded like a set of jangling keys from his leathers and using
them to open a door or cabinet or something. Qhuinn couldn't quite see. There was a dull
flick, and then light poured out over the floor, the fluorescent buzzing indicating that it
was indeed a door to a room that the Brother had opened.

"Get in, Blay." Vishous growled.

There was a moment's pause, and then, "Why?"

"Don't make me pick you up, too."

Qhuinn listened to the shuffle of Blay's shitkickers as he walked passed after another

few moments of hesitation and entered the room. Vishous followed and with one quick
jerk, tossed Qhuinn off his shoulder and onto the ground. Qhuinn stumbled backwards,
blanket and all, his spine colliding with a metal shelf filled with folded scrubs and boxes
of medical supplies. Syringes and cotton balls tumbled onto the tiled floor.

The hell…

Were they were in a storage closet?

"Now, you two knuckleheads are gonna stay in here until you get this shit sorted out,

true?" Vishous pointed a finger at each of them. "I don't care how long it takes. You two
are not leaving until you're friends again."

"You can't do that." Blay protested.

"Watch me, strawberry shortcake." V stepped back and gripped the door. "You two

were the reason I was too distracted to see the chaos on the bridge. My totalled ride is
on your heads, boys, and you're gonna make it up to me by getting whatever bullshit
between you two fixed."

Vishous slammed the door shut and locked it loudly, and Qhuinn knew full well that he

wasn't gonna be able to unlock the thing with his mind if he tried. He pushed himself off
the shelf and kicked away a syringe, watching as the thing skittered across the floor and
collided with the side of Blay's shitkicker. The guy was still staring at the door, as still and
silent as stone.

Yeah, this was gonna be a productive night.

Qhuinn snorted and kept the blanket tucked around his body while he examined his

new prison. It was tiny as fuck. Qhuinn was almost sure his walk-in closet was bigger.
Walls were white, floors were tiled, lights were fluorescent; typical hospital setting. Metal
shelves storing medical kits and scrubs surrounded them, and a few pieces of spare
high-tech equipment, like the heart monitors used to keep Blay alive, were lined up
neatly at the back.

He looked down at his wrist, at the name inked there. His heart ached as he traced

fingertips over the symbols, feeling more confined within his own damn body than any
lock could ever do.

Why couldn't he just tell the truth?

Qhuinn glanced over his shoulder. Blay was still turned away, the poor lighting casting

harsh shadows across the muscles of his bare back. His dark jeans were dry and
clinging to his firm ass and long, powerful legs. His hair was still a gorgeous mess.

Fuck. Sakes.

Knowing there was no way they were going to get the fuck out of this closet until they

actually tried to work shit out, Qhuinn stepped forward and placed his hand on Blay's
shoulder which, come to think of it, may not have been the best idea. His buddy spun
around with deadly speed and clocked him right in the jaw, sending Qhuinn's head flying
back.

He jaw stars, and he took a moment for his vision to re

focus itself. "Um… Ow."

It didn't stop there. Before Qhuinn could blink away the stars from the first strike,

Blay's fist came at him again, this time nailing him in the cheek. The impact caused
Qhuinn to fall lat on his ass and Blay just added onto the humiliation by driving his foot
into his ribs.

"Fuck!" Qhuinn growled, tasting blood on his tongue.

Blay's blue eyes were blazing. "Get up."

"Is this necessary?"

When Blay threw his foot back with the intent of nailing him with one more kick,

Qhuinn seized him by his ankle and yanked, throwing him off balance and sending the
guy right into the shelving. Popsicle sticks rained down on Qhuinn's face when the box
they were in tumbled forward.

"You think kicking my ass is gonna get us anywhere?" Qhuinn grunted as he struggled

to get back onto his feet.

A swift knee to the side of his head was the only answer he got. Qhuinn ended up flat

on his back for the second time, and he closed his eyes tightly. Even then, he could still
feel the room spinning around him. Blay was circling his body like a wild animal preparing
to strike.

Untamed, beautiful, and dangerous as all hell.

Qhuinn had a feeling he knew why his ex-best friend was doing this. The guy needed

to release his anger, his frustration. He had been played and used and cheated. Qhuinn
had treated him no better than a piece of dirt stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Blay had
every fucking right in the world to be pissed off. Hell, even Qhuinn was pissed off.

Which was why, even as the fists came flying at him again, he didn't fight back.

***

One would think that thirty straight minutes of beating the ever living fuck out of the

male you once called your best friend would be tiring, both physically and emotionally.
But, to Blay, it felt as though he was just getting started. No amount of punches or kicks
could make up for the months of torture and heartache that Qhuinn had put him through.

The one thing that was straining on him was the fact that Qhuinn wouldn't fight back.

Blay wanted to be hit. He wanted to pound the guy into the floor and be struck just as
much. He wanted to bleed and bruise and ache, because maybe that would distract him
from how much his heart was killing him. Qhuinn had gotten a few strikes in, more so out
of instinct. Blay's eye was bruised and his lip was cup open and bleeding but, other than
that, he was pretty much intact.

Qhuinn wouldn't lift a finger. It was as though the guy was just going to lie down and

take it. Like he deserved it.

Well… he did.

Panting hard, Blay took a few steps back, glaring down at the other male on the floor.

Qhuinn was lying on his side, back facing him, breathing hard. The taut skin stretched
over the muscles of his back and shoulders was blooming with fresh bruises of deep
purple. Everything that had been stacked neatly on the shelves was now scattered all
over the floor, and spatters of blood dotted the flawless white tile from Qhuinn's bloody
nose and the few gashes on his cheek. It wasn't as though the guy wasn't gonna heal,
which was why Blay had kept going. Had it been a human he was beating, Blay would
have been a tad more merciful.

His breathing strained and struggled, Qhuinn peered over his shoulder at Blay. His

eye, the green one, was swollen shut and blood was pouring out of his nose. If anyone
had seen him, they probably would have sworn he got hit in the mug by a Ford F1-50.

"You done, yet?" Qhuinn asked through clenched, bloodstained teeth.

Blay snarled. "Why the fuck are you just taking this? Get your ass up and fight me,

Qhuinn!"

The other male carefully rolled onto his back, showing off the fresh bruises on his

chest and stomach. "Not gonna happen."

"Why the hell not?"

Qhuinn glanced his way. "This is something I deserve."

Blay wanted to kick him in the teeth. He really did. "You know, this whole self-pity

nonsense is getting really old. People are going to stop feeling sorry for you."

"I'm aware of that."

"And you keep doing it becaaaause…?"

Qhuinn shut his good eye and stayed quiet, the one arm with the tattoo of Layla's

name cradled to his chest like it was the most precious thing in the world to him. That
simple action made Blay want to keel over and vomit. His stomach made an unpleasant
lurching motion because, surprise surprise, he still had feelings for the motherfucker.
Blay still hadn't seen the damn tattoo. He refused to look at it. He knew that once he did,
he'd probably snap.

"Can I ask you something?" Qhuinn asked quietly.

Blay frowned. "What?"

"Why did you save me? When I was trapped in the Escalade, why did you save me?"

Blay cocked his jaw from side to side. "You know why."

Qhuinn cracked open his good eye and peered over at him. "I'd like to hear it."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you don't deserve to hear those words come out of my mouth." Blay

choked.

Qhuinn stayed quiet for a long time, and then turned his attention to the ceiling. He

nodded once, but kept all comments to himself.

Blay took a step forward. "Now that we're on this subject, I'd like to know why you

saved me from that lesser."

No reply.

"Qhuinn?"

Still, the male lying bloody and beaten on the floor would not respond to his question.

But, instead, he slowly uncurled his beaten arm from his chest and gently laid it across
the tiled floor, wrist up. Blay kept his eyes off of it, heart clenching.

Qhuinn's voice was shaky. "Read it."

"I know what it says." Blay said bitterly.

"No." Qhuinn swallowed audibly. "You don't."

Brows knit tightly together and confusion nipping him in the ass, Blay took the risk and

turned his attention to the tattoo on his friend's thick wrist. There was some bruising
around the area, but definitely not enough to hide the markings inked onto his skin.
There it was, plain as night, the symbols of the name of Qhuinn's female mate: "L, A, Y,
L… O?"

Hold up.

That couldn't have been right. There was no "O" in Layla's name.

"The fuck…" Blay breathed and came closer, falling to his knees by Qhuinn's wrist.

Maybe he was looking at it wrong. He had been at a weird angle, and the last letter

could have been mistaken for an "O". With a knot building nice and tight in his throat,
Blay scooped up Qhuinn's large hand and turned it so that he could see the entire tattoo
in one shot.

Funny, he'd missed the "B" at the beginning upon first glance. "B, L, A, Y, L, O, C, K."

Blaylock. The thing said Blaylock.

Holy shit…

"I… I…" Yeah, that was pretty much all that Blay could come up with at the moment.

Rage melted away to nothing, leaving him feeling drained and bewildered and

shocked and every other word he could use to describe it, Blay looked over at Qhuinn,
who had tears running down his cheeks. His face was partly turned away, but Blay knew
he was crying by the way the light glinted off the moisture on his skin. Reaching out, he
brushed the tears away with his fingertips.

"Qhuinn…" He whispered, his own eyes burning. "What… I don't understand…"

"Now you know." Qhuinn turned and looked at him, voice laced thickly with emotion.

"You know why I saved you, too."

No way. No way in hell… This was not happening.

"B-but," Blay looked down at his own name. "But, everything you said

—"

"Was a lie." Qhuinn cut him off. "The shit I told you in the recovery room was a fucking

flat out lie. I said those things to tear us apart because I knew for a fact that if I let you in,
if I let you know how I truly felt, then that would be the end of it. I wouldn't be able to let
you go and I was not about to burden you with having a freak for a mate."

Blay bit the inside of his cheek, his heartbeat drumming inside of his ears. "You said

about ten different things right now that deserve to get you hit again."

Qhuinn lifted himself into a sitting position, but didn't pull his wrist out of Blay's grasp.

"I know. I can't begin to apologize for what I did to you, how I made you feel. I'm such a
fucking asshole."

"Yes, you are." Blay said as his fingers stroked Qhuinn's wrist tenderly.

"And a bastard."

"Complete one."

"And a prick that's totally undeserving of your forgiveness and heart." Qhuinn sighed.

Blay felt a small smile tug on the corner of his mouth. "Yep, that's true." When his best

friend looked away, Blay slipped his fingers beneath his chin and pulled him back to
facing him. "But, I think I'll let that one slide; just this once. It'll take some time, but I think
I can do it. You're still forever an asshole and a bastard, though."

Qhuinn searched his eyes, jaw working but no sounds coming through.

The loud click of a lock turned their heads, and the both watched as the door to the

supply closet slid open and Vishous poked his head in. A cloud of Turkish tobacco rolled
into the small space with him.

"No

ticed it got quiet, and I thought I'd…" He trailed off. "Sweet fuck, what the hell did

you two do in here?"

Blay looked over at Qhuinn. "Worked things out."

"With what, the wall?" V dashed in and slipped his arm under Qhuinn, helping the guy

to his feet in one quick lurch. "Jesus, you're gonna need stitches, my man."

Qhuinn shook his head and pushed away from the much larger Brother, hissing as he

gripped his rubs. They were probably broken. "I'm fine."

"Well, that's a sorry excuse for a lie." Vishous tapped the ashes off the end of his

hand-rolled. "You're beat to shit, Qhuinn."

"Leave me this way." Qhuinn limped toward the door, but paused to lock eyes with

Blay. "I'll heal in a few days time. Every bruise and gash I deserve to live with untreated
until then."

Blay shook his head. "Qhuinn

—"

"It's the least I can do when I caused you greater hurt." Qhuinn somehow managed to

smile, albeit faintly. "Don't worry about me."

And with that, Qhuinn turned and disappeared out the door, the uneven pounding of

his shitkickers as he limped out of the clinic fading away to nothing. Left alone in the
chaotic aftermath of their little "discussion", Blay looked over at Vishous, who was toeing
a cracked syringe on the floor.

"I can pay for these…" Blay said bashfully.

"Don't worry about it." V took another deep pull of his smoke. "I take it you saw the

tattoo?"

Blay smirked. "Your handiwork, huh? Thought I recognized it."

The goateed Brother exhaled another thick cloud. "That boy of yours is a stubborn

little asshat, but I expected him to crack sooner or later."

Blay looked to the door, heart aching. He kinda liked the sound of that; having Qhuinn

being referred to as his. "Yeah."

"Well, don't just stand there." Vishous grumbled and smashed out the butt of his hand-

rolled. "Go get your male."

"How very chick flick of you to say." Blay smirked.

"Don't make me push you."

Not needing anymore convincing, Blay left the supply closet at a quick pace and did

just as Vishous told him to do.

He went after his male.

Chapter 15

While making the slow and rather agonizing journey up to his bedroom, Qhuinn was

vaguely aware of being followed. Though about seventy percent of his brain was focused
on the fuck, ouch, crap, son of a bitch this hurts, the other thirty percent had taken notice
of the sound of footsteps not too far behind him. He wanted to peer over his shoulder
and get a good look at who it was, but the muscles in his neck would not have it. There
wasn't a single inch of him that didn't ache or sting or throb.

Wait. His heart; his heart felt… good. Really good, as though this sudden weight was

lifted right off of it. The death grip all the guilt had on the damn thing was finally released.
He could breathe now, smile now. Showing Blay the tattoo, telling him everything had
been a lie… yeah, best decision he's made in a really long time.

Pain aside, Qhuinn felt like a motherfucking rock star.

Once the painful climb up the grand staircase was well behind him, Qhuinn limped to

his bedroom door with every intention to collapse into bed and pass out until he was all
healed up. But, as he reached for the doorknob, his plans suddenly changed for the
better.

The weight of Blay's big hand fell on his lower back, pushing him forward through the

opening door and into the dark bedroom, while at the same time keeping him near
enough to feel the heat radiating off the other male's torso. Though Qhuinn still hadn't
seen his face, he knew it was his best friend behind him. His scent, his presence, the
rush of Qhuinn's blood pumping through his veins; it was all there.

Qhuinn stumbled his way into the bedroom, trying his best not to trip over anything on

the way in. When he finally turned, he watched as Blay shut the door behind them,
blocking the light from the hallway and leaving them with nothing but pale moonlight.

"What are you doing here?" Qhuinn asked as he absentmindedly rubbed at his sore

ribs. He wasn't entirely sure why he asked that question. Hell, it wasn't as though he was
complaining about being alone with the male in his bedroom.

Blay held his stare for a moment, and Qhuinn noted the dark shiner blooming around

his eye, and the way his bottom lip had been split and left to bleed. When those blue
eyes travelled downward to the tattoo on Qhuinn's wrist, his gaze softened immensely,
and then he said, "Get in the bathroom."

"Why?" One of Qhuinn's eyebrows arched high.

"Just move your ass."

Qhuinn's other eyebrow rose up to meet the other as he watched his buddy disappear

into the huge bathroom on the other side of the bed. The light from inside clicked on, and
there was the distinct sound of things being moved around, like bottles and plastic
packaging.

"The hell are you doing in there?" Qhuinn asked as he limped over to see Blay bent

over and rummaging through the cupboard under the sink, ass to the air and dark jeans
stretched tightly over all the right areas.

Oh, now this was a view he could get used to.

After a beat of silence, Blay straightened up, the muscles of his bare back rolling and

tensing under his pale freckled skin, his large hands grasping a small first aid kit. He
motioned with his head toward the tub and set the kit down on the marble counter top.

"Sit down. I need to patch you up." Blay said softly.

Qhuinn tilted his head. "Dude, you really don't need to

—"

"Yeah, I kinda do." Blay cut him off and locked eyes with him, wrinkles forming on his

brow as he frowned. "I did this to you, and now I'm going to fix it."

Qhuinn felt himself smile. Blay had always been such a ridiculously loyal male, no

matter the situation. The fact that he had beat the holy hell out of Qhuinn, for every valid
reason imaginable, and still wanted to treat his injuries was proof of that.

Qhuinn was so not worthy of him, but damn it if he didn't want to try to be.

With more than a little limp in his step, Qhuinn moved across the tiled floor and to the

massive Jacuzzi tub by the shower. He lowered himself down onto the edge, albeit with
some effort, and sighed heavily once settled. This position was not being kind to his
bruised and broken body, so he shifted, straightening his back and rolling his shoulders
in an attempt to ease the discomfort.

"Sore?" Blay asked as he went through the kit.

"Bit of an understatement there, but yeah." Qhuinn winced.

His nose wrinkled as Blay uncapped the bottle of alcohol and started soaking a

handful of cotton balls in the foul mixture. The sharp scent stung Qhuinn's nose, making
him sneeze. Blay moved to stand in front of him and slipped warm, long fingers beneath
Qhuinn's chin, minding the small cut there.

"Head up." He whispered, and then gently angled Qhuinn's head upward. "Can't lick

these closed, unfortunately. Way too deep."

And wasn't that a piss-off. Blay's tongue would have been fucking lovely right about

now. But, Qhuinn was more than content with gazing at his buddy's face, but when the
alcohol-soaked bundle of cotton came in contact with an open gash on his cheek, he
winced and nearly tumbled backwards into the tub.

"Motherfucker!" He hissed.

Blay gripped his shoulder to steady him and chuckled. "Sorry, sorry. Should have

warned you."

When Blay repeated his action with the cotton ball, he was thankfully gentler, working

the wet little wad around the open cuts and then dabbing at them. The sting made
Qhuinn's eyes water, which blurred the image of Blay's face only inches from his own.
The other male's features were twisted in concentration. His brows were furrowed, his
nose was wrinkled, and his tongue was peeking out ever so slightly from between his cut
lips.

Qhuinn frowned. "Your lip is gashed open."

"You nailed me in the mouth with your elbow." Blay stated matter-of-factly while he

focused on a cut at Qhuinn's hairline.

Qhuinn cocked his jaw and grunted. "Sorry."

"Well, I was beating you black and blue, so I guess you can't be blamed."

It was weird, this conversation between them. It all seemed too awkward, like a pair of

acquaintances stuck in a room together and forced to make meagre small talk. Qhuinn
and Blay were no longer enemies, that was certain. But, they both seemed trapped in the
narrow space between friendship and something much stronger and neither of them had
any idea which direction to head for.

Either that or they were both too scared to take the first step.

Leaning forward, with his palms flat on the edge of the tub and supporting him, Qhuinn

got real close and personal with his old buddy and ran the very tip of his tongue over the
gash in his lip. The rich, powerful taste of his blood sent a shock of pleasure straight to
Qhuinn's cock. He had to bite back the moan that threatened to come forth.

Blay blinked once, twice, and stared at him. His cheeks were flushed, but he didn't

speak a word. Qhuinn swallowed hard, before taking his hands and cradling either side
of Blay's face with them. He could feel his friend's breath hitch under the touch, hear his
heartbeat quicken. Blay's hands came to settle on his shoulders, two warm, large,
comfortable weights that Qhuinn was more than willing to carry.

Blay's cheeks were slightly stubbled under Qhuinn's hands, the tiny prickles tickling

his fingers. He must not have shaved recently. Mismatched eyes took in every last detail
of Blay's face, from the freckles that dotted his cheeks and his nose; to his full, perfectly
cushioned lips; and his gorgeously long eyelashes. His jaw was strong, and his
cheekbones defined. The eyes that stared back at him… Qhuinn knew they were blue,
though he could not physically see the colour, he knew it was there.

What he would have given to be normal for just a few seconds, just so he could get a

glimpse of how blue they really were.

Qhuinn licked at the wound again, slowly, dragging his tongue along Blay's soft, warm

lip. Blay's blood, thick and spiced and nothing like he'd ever tasted, coated his tongue.
They both shuddered in unison, and Qhuinn felt Blay's fingers dig into the skin of his
shoulders. He growled low in his chest, the sound vibrating right through him and into his
best friend. Locking their eyes in a piercing gaze, Qhuinn closed his mouth over Blay's
lower lip, drawing it out and suckling it deeply until he received a shuddering moan in
response.

Cock straining against his too-tight jeans, Qhuinn's growl deepened when Blay began

to move his mouth against his, the brushes still showing some hesitation, some fear.
Tilting his head to the side, Qhuinn huffed a hot breath against the other male's mouth
before finally claiming it fully. He kept it slow, letting Blay control the pace, and his buddy
was in no rush. Qhuinn had never known such sweetness and delicacy when kissing. His
own heart drummed within his chest, and he knew that this… this was right. This was
how they were supposed to kiss. Not rough and desperate like the others before this had
been, like their first kiss had been. This was passion unlike any he'd ever felt, and that
was coming from a guy who fucked more than he slept.

This was how lovers kissed. How mates kissed.

Qhuinn's hands slipped from Blay's cheeks and traveled downward, fingertips

mapping out the hard plane of Blay's chest. His skin was taut, hairless, and remarkably
warm. Not wanting to make Blay feel uncomfortable, Qhuinn avoided brushing over his
nipples, despite the urge to strum them, tweak them, and bite them. Perhaps later. His
palms followed the bumpy ridges of the other male's spine, before finally coming to settle
on Blay's hips.

He gave them a little tug forward, and he felt Blay pause the kissing, body tense under

his hands.

"C'mere," Qhuinn whispered against his mouth. "Please?"

There was a moment of uncertainty, a moment where neither of them knew what to

expect, but then it passed quicker than it happened. Blay came forward, their eyes still
locked, and swung his long legs over the edge of the tub, one on either side of Qhuinn's
body. When he lowered himself onto Qhuinn's lap, the two of them released identical
groans.

Fuck, they were both hard as diamonds. Their denim-strained cocks were pressed

right up against each other. Qhuinn had to fight the need to buck up, to grind.

"Sorr

y…" he breathed into Blay's throat. "You kind of have that affect on me."

Blay chuckled shyly. "Yeah… Ditto."

Qhuinn tipped his head back and looked at the male on his lap, a frown forming on his

lips. "I will never stop being sorry for what I put you through."

Blay nodded slowly, solemnly. "I know."

"The things I said to you were completely out of line," Qhuinn continued, because he

knew if he didn't get all his sorries out in one shot, they'd eat at him. "That night, you
washed me after rotation and comfo

rted me when I fell apart… fuck, Blay, you lied to

Saxton for me, and then I went and said those things…"

"Shh." Blay stroked his fingers through Qhuinn's black hair, the motion soothing and

lulling. "I know why you did it. Can't say I'm at all thrilled about it, but I know doing it killed
you as much as it killed me."

"You have no fucking idea how much it did, Blay." Qhuinn choked.

Blay nodded once. "Then there is nothing more for you to say. As for me, well, the

things I said to you weren't all that fair, either." When Qhuinn opened his mouth to
protest, Blay silenced him with a look. "When I called you a whore, I need you to know
that I didn't mean it. I was pissed and I as hurt, and…" He cleared his throat. "…the thing
about you not being impressive…"

Qhuinn felt himself grin, and he bucked his hips up into Blay. "You lied?"

Blay groaned through a gasping breath. "Blatantly."

"Mm," Qhuinn's lips found the bruise on around Blay's eye and gently kissed there.

"You don't have to apologize for a damn thing."

"I feel better doing it, though." Blay sighed softly at the affections and turned his head,

lips seeking lips and finding them eagerly.

Qhuinn returned the kiss slowly, basking in the sensation that Blay's hands left on his

body as they explored his chest and shoulders. But, when his fingers found his ribs and
pressed, Qhuinn winced sharply and gasped.

"Couple of your ribs are broken." Blay frowned. "It'll take a night or so for them to

heal."

Qhuinn cursed under his breath. "Guess I'll be stuck in bed for a while." He purred and

wiggled his eyebrows. "It'd be nice with some company."

Blay's widened eyes and blush made Qhuinn laugh. He cleared his throat and

suddenly rose up off Qhuinn's lap, adjusting his jeans while he did so. Blay reached a
hand out for his buddy and smiled softly.

"C'mon, jackass." He smirked. "You should be lying down."

"You're all done with my face?" Qhuinn took the offered hand and used it to help him

stand. His ribs shrieked in protest, making him grunt. "Am I pretty again?"

"You were never pretty to start with."

Qhuinn gasped appallingly. "You insult me, sir!"

Blay laughed brightly and slipped one arm around Qhuinn, helping him out of the

bathroom and toward the bed. They had to avoid stumbling over mounds of clothes and
other junk, but the journey was thankfully short. Qhuinn collapsed onto the bed and rolled
over onto his back. When he reached for the clasp of his jeans, Blay's eyes practically
popped out.

"What are you doing?"

Qhuinn cocked his pierced brow. "I sleep naked."

A bright red flush swept over Blay's entire body and he cleared his throat. "Right. I

forgot. I'll just turn around, I guess."

"Blay."

"Yeah?"

"Nothing you haven't seen before." Qhuinn drawled.

Blay stood silent for a good long while, and then his tongue peeked out to lick his

bottom lip, right over the spot where the now-healed cut had been. Taking that as his
buddy giving him the go-ahead, Qhuinn continued what he was doing, popping the
button of his jeans loose and sliding the zipper all the way down. He moaned
shamelessly when he pushed the denim off his hips and his cock sprung free, rock hard
and already weeping against his belly.

"Fuck," he breathed.

When he looked at Blay, he nearly came right there. His buddy was all kinds of

flustered as he stood there, his eyes locked on Qhuinn's cock and his lips parted as he
panted heavily. His jeans were bulging and looking mighty painful right about now. He
looked hungry, and God damn it, if that didn't make Qhuinn curse the Scribe Virgin for
making him incapable of healing quicker.

The things he would have done to that male if he were able to move. Jesus fuck.

"Well, I'm ready for bed," Qhuinn smiled and yanked the sheets up over his body,

hiding his erection but allowing a delightful tent to be pitched. He turned his head to Blay.
"What about you?"

Blay seemed to snap out of his daze. "What about me what?"

"You joining me?" Qhuinn patted the empty mattress beside him.

Blay's expression changed somewhat, the lust fading from his eyes as his gaze

roamed over the messy bed. He looked hurt, which made Qhuinn wonder if he had said
or done something he shouldn't have. "I can't… I mean, I shouldn't lie in a bed with you
when you and Layla have been in there. It's like your mated bed, and it would be
disrespectful to

—"

"Wait, what?" Qhuinn practically shot out of bed in shock. "What about Layla?"

"You've slept with her in this bed." Blay said.

Qhuinn frowned deeply. "Layla and I have never had sex. Ever."

It was Blay's turn to look stunned. "What? But, I always see her come in here to see

you."

"To feed me or to talk. Layla and I are friends." Qhuinn shook his head, feeling like a

jackass for having allowed Blay to believe such a thing. "She's still a virgin, and will
always remain one around me. I turned her down when she wanted to lay with me."

"Why?" Blay demanded softly as he took a step closer to the bed.

Qhuinn sighed through a smile and lifted his hand, turning it so Blay could get a clear

view of the tattoo on his wrist. "My thoughts were kind of on someone else. It'd be rude,
y'know, thinking of you when she and I fucked, so I just didn't let it get far enough to risk
it."

The fading moonlight shining in through the windows allowed Qhuinn to see the

moisture develop in Blay's eyes. The very sight of it made his protective instincts fire up
inside him, demanding him to make the tears stop, regardless of whether they were from
happiness or sadness or anything like that.

He wouldn't see Blay cry. No matter the reason.

"Get in here," Qhuinn threw the sheet off one half of the bed and gestured to it. "Get in

beside me right now so I can hold you."

Qhuinn didn't have to ask twice. Blay moved across the room with the same speed

that made him deadly in a battle, and climbed into the massive bed with him. His weight
sunk into the mattress, and Qhuinn didn't hesitate to loop his strong arms around the
other male and gather him close. His broken ribs could go fuck themselves for all he
cared.

"You sonofabitch." Blay breathed into his throat.

Qhuinn smirked and kissed his hair. "I'll take that as a term of endearment."

Blay pulled away, but only enough to reach for his wrist and pull it closer so he could

admire the ink. Qhuinn rest his head against the plush pillow and watched fondly with
hooded eyes while Blay traced his fingertips over the intricate symbols that made up his
name.

"We have a bit of a problem," Qhuinn stated after a few minutes.

Blay glanced sidelong at him. "And that is?"

Grinning, Qhuinn leaned in and pressed his lips to Blay's ear before whispering,

"Pants are not allowed in my bed."

He heard Blay swallow audibly, and then his wrist was slowly released. Mismatched

eyes hungry, Qhuinn watched with held breath as Blay trailed his fingertips down his
muscled belly, keeping nice and slow to both thrill and frustrate Qhuinn at the same time.
The fucking little tease. Blay hissed softly through clenched teeth when the button of his
jeans was released and the fly was all the way down. Qhuinn pressed his lips to Blay's
shoulder and made a sound that was loud enough to be a growl, and long enough to be
a purr.

Blay lifted his hips and shoved the denim down his legs, allowing his cock to spring to

attention and settle against his belly. The head was glistening and aching. If Qhuinn
hadn't been feeling the way he was, he would be all over that; stroking and sucking until
Blay's brain turned into goo.

As Blay kicked his jeans off the bed and turned his body to face him, Qhuinn sighed.

He grazed just the tip of his finger along the other male's thick shaft, and watched as the
thing twitched in response.

"You're so fucking beautiful." Qhuinn said softly, circling a fingertip around the tip of

Blay's cock.

Blay groaned and arced his body into Qhuinn's teasing touch, a whimper passing

through his lips. "Qhuinn, fuck…" His pecs shuddered with every struggled intake of
breath.

"If I wasn't injured, you have no clue what I would do to you right now." Qhuinn

continued in a rough whisper. He gripped Blay's hip and drew him close, real close, until
their cocks brushed right against each other. Qhuinn growled, fangs elongating, and
pressed his forehead against that of the male in bed with him. "Do you want to know
what I would do?"

"Yes," Blay whimpered a second time.

Qhuinn palmed both their cocks in one hand, silken skin rubbing against silken skin.

Clear droplets leaked over the heads, moistening the hot flesh and allowing them to
move against one another with less friction. Blay wrapped an arm around Qhuinn's
shoulder, fingers digging into the muscles of his back.

"I'd mark every last inch of you with my mouth and my hands and my scent." Qhuinn

purred in his male's ear. "I'd take you on my lap and make you ride me until neither of us
can breathe or think coherently for a week." He kissed Blay's parted lips. "Would you like
that?"

Blay mo

aned desperately. "Yes… fuck, Qhuinn, please…"

"Hook your leg around my hip." Qhuinn ordered softly and dug the fingers of his free

hand into the soft, taut skin on Blay's thigh as he obliged. "Mm, now roll your hips against
mine. Grind like you're riding me. I want to feel your cock against mine."

They gasped in unison when Blay began to move against Qhuinn, the cocks Qhuinn

had gripped in his one hand rubbing together. Soft-tipped fingers bit into the flesh of
Qhuinn's back, and it was only moments before both their bodies were slick with sweat
and they were panting as if they'd just run a marathon. Blay was making soft noises in
between his gasps, head tipped back and eyes closed as he came undone at the seams.
Qhuinn's mouth closed over his exposed throat, suckling at the spot where Blay's pulse
pounded.

"Take it…" Blay swallowed. "Please, take my vein."

Qhuinn hesitated. "You sure?"

"God, yes."

Qhuinn shuddered and slowly licked the hot flesh of Blay's throat, tasting the salt of

his sweat while stubble scraped over his tongue. Dark spices wafted up from his own
body, igniting every one of Qhuinn's senses and setting off a possessive need to mark

this male as his own. With as much gentleness as he could manage in the predatory
state he was now in, Qhuinn's fangs pierced Blay's throat. Rich, warm blood poured onto
his tongue and seeped down his throat, an exotic port wine which he swallowed eagerly.

"Fuck!" Blay cried out and bucked, and Qhuinn felt his cock twitch in his hand.

Qhuinn's eyes fluttered closed and he hummed against Blay's throat, contently

suckling at his lover like a kitten drinking milk. He was only vaguely aware of his own
hips rocking forward, grinding into Blay despite the agony his broken ribs caused.

None of that mattered. Nothing on the fucking planet mattered. Not anymore.

The only thing that was important was Blay.

Fingers weaved and gripped into jet black hair. "Qhuinn, I'm close…"

"Mm," Qhuinn moaned against Blay's throat and slid his free hand around to Blay's

ass, squeezing it in a way that told his lover it was alright to let go. He too felt the coil
tighten in his belly, his release throbbing at the tip of his cock, waiting to explode.

And then it happened. Blay's snapped his head back and cried out as his release shot

out of him, thick seed splattering over their bellies and oozing down the hand that was
gripping at them. Qhuinn followed right after, his own cry muffled by the throat he was
still drinking from. He felt the warmth of their release all over his hand, and he kept
stroking until they were both soft against his palm.

Blay went slack in his arms, his breath ragged against Qhuinn's hair. Qhuinn pulled

back gently and ran his tongue over the puncture wounds in his lover's throat, sealing
them up. Blay unhooked his leg from Qhuinn's hip and rolled onto his back, exhausted
and sated and nearly glowing.

Qhuinn's chest swelled with pride when he scented his own dark spices all over his

lover's body. He ran his mismatched eyes all over Blay's form as it lay tangled in the
sheets on his bed, his sweat and his seed and his fang marks branding the other male as
his.

Oh, yes, he could get used to this. Very fast.

"Wow…" Blay breathed through an exhausted smile.

"You flatter me." Qhuinn chuckled and slid in closer, enclosing Blay in his arms and

tucking him against the protective shield of his body. Behind him, the metal shutters of
his bedroom window began to slide closed; a message that dawn was arriving.

Blay purred and turned his head enough to nip Qhuinn's chin. "Feeling a little sore

after that?"

"If by sore, you mean I feel as though I've been hit with an eighteen-wheeler, then yes;

I feel sore." Qhuinn rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, wincing. A smile melted
onto his features. "Was worth it, though."

The pink tinge of blush hit Blay's cheeks, and Qhuinn laughed.

"Love it when you do that." Qhuinn teased.

"Bite me," Blay rubbed at his face, clearly embarrassed.

"Kinda just did." Qhuinn flicked his tongue over the two pinprick wounds on his best

friend's neck. "Unless you want me to do it again."

"You do that, and we'll never get to sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak." Qhuinn murmured as he yawned.

"Uh huh," Blay pressed closer and sighed, blue eyes falling closed.

Qhuinn smiled softly and tilted his head against the pillow, watching and waiting for his

lover's breath's to even out and deepen before he, himself, could follow him into sleep.

Chapter 16

"I meant what I said, you know…"

Blay lifted his head from where it was rested on Qhuinn's chest, and looked up

sleepily into those gorgeous mismatched eyes. In the few hours that they had slept,
Qhuinn's body was already beginning to heal. The bruises had faded from his skin, his
eye was no longer swollen, and his body had regained its strength. Qhuinn's black hair
lay fanned out on the pillow, a good few bits of it sticking upwards like it normally did. He
was smiling tiredly, the corners of his defined lips lifted only slightly.

They'd been talking quietly for a good forty-five minutes, now, with no intention of

getting out of bed even as the metal shudders rose and greeted them with a fresh new
night. Blay knew he had to be out in the field tonight, but the brother's weren't planning
on leaving until around 8:30, so they had a good hour left to kill. The subject of
conversation had been nothing of import; gossip, soft questions, a dirty joke or two on
Qhuinn's part. Like they were catching up on all the months they'd spent apart. Fritz had
come by to ask Qhuinn if he required First Meal to be brought up, because of his injuries.

Qhuinn had declined, of course, and when Blay had asked why, he stated blatantly

that if he was going to have any meal in his bed tonight, it would be one that he made
with his own hands, and Blay would be the only one eating it.

Now, if that didn't get his heart doing backflips…

"Meant what?" Blay asked softly, palm caressing the warm skin of Qhuinn's chest.

Strong fingers weaved through copper hair. "What I said in the car last night. About

me being the one who should've taken your virginity." The timbre of his voice lowered to
a rough growl. "It should have been me."

Blay pressed his lips into a thin line and sighed, bringing his face up to nuzzle the

stubbled skin of Qhuinn's throat. Even in that small tender gesture, Blay half-wanted to
give the male beneath him a black eye for his months of bullshit. Then again, he
supposed the beating Qhuinn got last night was enough for now.

"Yeah, it should have."

The grip on his hair tightened before Qhuinn yanked Blay's face up to claim his mouth

in a searing kiss. Blay groaned shamelessly, those thoughts vanishing as he lost himself
in the taste of the other male.

He could get drunk off that spiced flavour. If Qhuinn were alcohol, Blay would be flat

on his ass shitfaced twenty-four seven. And he'd be damn happy about it.

"I'll make up for it." Qhuinn murmured into his mouth. "I swear, I will."

Oh, that was definitely something Blay could look forward to.

Blay shuddered, deepening the kiss as his fingertips trailed downward, hungrily

seeking the one thing he wanted most tonight. The very tips just managed to slip
beneath the silken bed sheets, when a sudden knock on the bedroom door stilled his
travelling fingers to a dead stop. His brow creased.

"Who the flying hell…" Qhuinn gritted his teeth, clearly frustrated that some ass had

the balls to disturb them. "Motherfucking cockblocks."

He tossed the sheets off of his body and lurched upward into a sitting position. Blay

watched as he picked up his discarded jeans and stuffed his long, powerful legs into
them, allowing the other male a very nice view of his ass before he tugged them up over
his hips.

Blay remained on Qhuinn's bed, content to lose himself in the cool silk sheets that

smelled heavily of Qhuinn's Bonding scent. He stretched his arms above his head and
made a content noise, wondering to himself if he looked like some Harlequin pansy boy
on the cover of one of those horrible books; muscles bulging and silk draped over all his
naughty bits.

A regular lonely woman's wet dream.

Qhuinn seemed to be thinking the same thing, because his dark brows shot up when

he turned and caught a glimpse of what was proudly displayed on his bed.

"You look like a buffet just sprawled out for me to devour." Qhuinn purred.

Blay felt soft heat hit his cheeks, and when Qhuinn bent down to lick a line down his

stomach, his brain was oatmeal inside his skull. He arched his spine, shuddering,
wanting so much more, but that damn insistent knock came again.

Qhuinn huffed and stomped over to the door. "Son of a bitch."

When the bedroom door was flung open, Blay expected Fritz to be standing there with

a silver tray full of food, insisting that they have something to eat.

"Hello, cousin."

That was not Fritz.

"Saxton." Blay could see Qhuinn's spine tense, and the tone of his voice was

somewhere between I'm surprised to see you and go fuck yourself with something sharp
and rusted. "Anything I can do for you?"

The elegant male adjusted the cuffs of the striped shirt beneath his suit jacket. He

looked as though he was just about to head off to work. "I heard that you got into quite an
accident last night while on rotation. I came to see if you were all right."

"I'm peachy." Qhuinn was white-knuckling the side of the door.

Saxton's soft gaze moved up and down Qhuinn's body, his lips curling into a bemused

frown. "I can see that. You're nearly healed." He drew his brow down in puzzlement.
"How is that so?"

"I eat my broccoli every night. Oh, and the fact that I'm a night-walking bloodsucker

may have something to do with it." Qhuinn snipped.

"A little testy tonight, cousin?" Saxton commented mildly.

Blay curled his fingers into the bed sheets, listening to their softly spoken exchange of

words and, given Qhuinn's sudden mood change, a few snarky comebacks here and
there. He was well hidden in the shadows of the bedroom, the angle of the bed
preventing anyone standing out in the hall from seeing it unless they physically enter the
bedroom.

"Don't you have some poor sucker to lie your way out of an overdue parking ticket

for?" Qhuinn sneered, making a move to shut the bedroom door in his cousin's face.

W

ow… Qhuinn's charm and warmth was that of legend.

"I suppose," Saxton shoved his loafer-clad foot against the doorframe, preventing

Qhuinn from shutting him out completely. "May I have a word with Blaylock before I
depart?"

Blay paled.

"What are you talking about?" Qhuinn's voice nearly faltered.

"Please, cousin, you aren't that dense. I've been with that male plenty of times enough

to sense his presence in another room. Your blood isn't the only thing coursing through
his veins."

Qhuinn's Bonding scent went off like a fucking A-Bomb in the room, and the growl he

produced was more animal than male.

"You junkless son of a

—"

"Qhuinn." Blay spoke up, causing both males to peer into the bedroom at him. Blay

rose up off the mattress, drawing the silken sheets around his naked body and wrapping
them around his hips. "It's okay."

Mismatched eyes blazed with possession, those dark spices surrounding Blay like a

barrier protecting him from any male with wandering eyes or more graphic intentions.
Qhuinn's strong chest pumped with angry breaths and, as Blay walked passed, he
brushed fingertips over tense pectorals.

"If he touches you…" Qhuinn snarled low.

"Trust me," Blay whispered softly, feeling almost scum-like when he felt Saxton's gaze

on him. "I'll just be outside the door."

Qhuinn's powerful jaw cocked and he leaned down to press a searing kiss to the bite

marks he'd left on Blay's throat. Blay felt the other male mouth the word "Mine…" in the
Old Language against his flesh, sending pleasant tingles surging through his body.

He stepped back, watching warily as Qhuinn returned to his bedroom, mismatched

eyes boring holes into the side of his cousin's head before the door eased shut. Alone
with Saxton, Blay adjusted the layers of black silk wrapped around his hips, making sure
it was all safely tucked into place. He wasn't up for having a wardrobe malfunction,
regardless of the fact that this male has already seen him naked and so much more.

Saxton had his hands clasped behind his back, stretching the expensive pinstriped

material of his suit jacket across his broad shoulders. His blonde hair was combed back
away from his exquisite face, giving him a windswept appearance.

"I cannot say that I am in the least bit surprised at this." He said calmly.

Blay frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Saxton's storm-coloured eyes gazed at him in a way that made Blay feel as though he

was being peeled open, and all of his thoughts and secrets were spilling out onto the
carpeted floor.

"You never could say no to him, Blaylock." The blonde stated. "Even after all the hurt

he put you through, you still end up in his bed."

Blay felt the warm ember of sudden anger ignite at his core. "Hey, I didn't just fucking

leap at him the first chance I got. He explained to me why he did it, but that was after I
kicked the living shit out of him." He motioned to the bedroom door. "Qhuinn didn't get a
scratch on him from the accident. It was me who made him suffer."

Saxton's brows lifted in what Blay assumed to be shock. "Why do you males always

insist that violence is the answer?" He shook his head. "We all admire and appreciate the
things the Brotherhood does for our race, but there are other ways of achieving things."

Blay knew this was the lawyer side of Saxton's brain speaking.

"Sometimes, the one thing Qhuinn really needs is a smack across the head when he

acts the way he does." Blay frowned. "You know as well as I do that he tunes us out
when we try to reason with him."

Saxton looked away, dipping down to pick up his leather briefcase. "I suppose I

cannot argue with that."

Blay pressed his lips down into a thin line, and turned his eyes to the bedroom door.

He could sense Qhuinn just behind it, not so much as listening in as he was waiting for
any reason to step in on the conversation.

"I love him."

Saxton's voice was hollow. "I'm aware."

Blay turned to face the other male; he male who had been his first lover, his salvation

in a time of great sadness, the glue that kept him together when his world had crumbled
to dust. Saxton was a true male of worth, but God damn him, Blay had never been able
to fall. As hard as he tried, as much as he had wanted to at one point, it never fucking
happened. His heart, his soul, had always belonged to Qhuinn.

Always would.

Before Blay could open his mouth, Saxton cut him off. "Just be careful."

Powder blue eyes narrowed. "The hell does that mean?"

"He's hurt you before. And not just once." Saxton lifted his chin up. "I was there to pick

up the pieces every time. If I know my cousin well, I know it'll just end up happening
again, and I won't be there to fix it." He seemed to take a moment to gather himself, that
pristine composure of his being tested. It was like a crack appearing down the center of a
mirror, just waiting for enough pressure to shatter the entire thing to bits. "I've already
informed the doggen to gather my things and send them back to my apartment. My
service to the king is no longer required, and I have no reason to remain here any longer.
Not unless you ask me to."

Blay just stood there. Silent as fuck, stomach churning at the thought of everything

that had happened between the two of them ending in such an abrupt and bitter way. He
didn't want to see Saxton go, not after everything, but…

Blay had been the only reason Saxton even moved into the mansion in the first place,

hadn't he. Without Blay, what did the other male even have under this roof?

A cousin bonded to his former lover who wanted nothing more than to tear his very

throat out at the sight of him.

Yeah, not exactly the kind of thing worth sticking around for.

"I'll take your silence as my answer…"

"I don't want it to end like this, Saxton." Blay said after he found wherever the fuck his

voice had been hiding. "You're a male of worth, and damn it, I actually do give a shit
about you. Just… not the same way as Qhuinn. You knew that right from the beginning."

"I did. And I accepted it." Saxton pushed his fingers back through his sculpted blonde

waves. "But after some time, things change. Feelings change, and I became tired of
being the band-aid in all his between you and my cousin. I wanted more, and I know that
is something you cannot offer me. Not anymore."

Blay felt his throat clench. "…More?"

"I wanted you to be my hellren."

Oh. Okay. That's not that big of a deal. Just go ahead and drop that bomb right there

without a fucking warning, and all will be dandy.

Blay felt himself sway, and had to shoot his arm out and catch himself on the

doorjamb before he face-planted a whole lot of rug. He couldn't even form words.
"What… I…"

Was he fucking serious?

Hellren…

No. No fucking way would Blay have ever considered doing something like that. Even

if the things that happened last night with Qhuinn hadn't gone down, Blay was not the
kind of male that would give himself into a loveless mating. Saxton deserved better than
that.

Deserved better than him.

"Saxton…" Blay felt like he'd been kicked in the chest.

The blonde strode over, then, his loafers moving soundlessly across the ornate rug,

and brushed the backs of his fingers down the side of Blay's cheek. Ballsy move,
considering that Qhuinn was just behind the door, and his Bonding Scent was clinging to
Blay like a second skin.

"I wish you nothing but happiness, Blaylock," Saxton whispered with a solemn smile,

before stepping away and switching his briefcase to his opposite hand. "Farewell."

And just like that, he was gone, moving down the remaining stretch of hallway and

disappearing down the grand staircase without a single glance back. Blay stared after
him, the hollowness in his gut almost too much to ignore. But it was inevitable, the fact
that he'd one day have to let his lover go. Saxton would just get hurt as time passed if he
remained in this mansion. Blay knew too well the pain of holding onto something you
thought you could never have.

Saxton would find someone else.

He'd finally receive the love he most surely deserved.

Still, Blay felt like a total dickwad for putting him through all of this.

When he pushed his way back into the bedroom, Qhuinn instantly shot up from his

spot on the edge of the mattress and rushed over, his Bonding Scent consuming Blay
like an intoxicating fog of spice and warmth. He breathed it in like it was the only thing
keeping him alive.

"What happened?" Qhuinn demanded softly, hands coming up to cradle either side of

Blay's strong jaw.

He took a moment to gather himself before answering. "He's gone."

"Gone where?"

"Home," Blay released his hold on the sheet around his hips and flattened large palms

on the wide expanse of Qhuinn's chest, feeling the drumming of the other male's
heartbeat. The sheet tumbled down and pooled at their feet, exposing Blay to the
bedroom's cool air. "He left the mansion for good. We're… done."

Frankly, Blay was expecting Qhuinn to start cart wheeling through the bedroom and

down the fucking hallway, but all he received were a few softly spoken words and the
warm wash of breath across his face.

"Are you okay?"

God… damn it. Qhuinn was above and beyond any male of worth Blay had ever

known. Bonded males were fierce in the protection of their mates, and made quick work
of eliminating any threat that would dare come between them with a good ol' snap of the
neck. The fact that Qhuinn was standing calmly as Blay showed clear sadness at the
loss of his former lover, and actually displayed some form of concern?

Fuck, Blay had never loved him more than he did right at this very moment.

"He told you about the hellren thing, didn't he?" Qhuinn asked.

Blay could only nod.

Qhuinn audibly swallowed, hands sliding down from the sides of Blay's face to rest on

his neck. A thumb massaged against the fading bite mark on the side of his throat.
"Would you have done it?" There was a tremble to his voice. "If this hadn't happened
between us, and he asked you. Would you have said yes?"

There was no hesitation to Blay's answer. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm yours." Blay stated. "I've been yours since we were pretrans. No one in

this world or the next could have possibly changed that. I would rather spend an eternity
alone, than with a male I couldn't possibly love. I wouldn't have been able to handle
having someone else's name carved into my back when, in my heart, yours was already
there from the start."

Qhuinn was staring at him. Staring at him as thought he'd just sprouted a second

fucking head, mismatched eyes having gone wide. Blay was about to say something,
when the other male suddenly fell to his knees before him, hands wrapping themselves
around Blay's waist. It was as though his body just couldn't hold itself up anymore. He
was trembling as he pressed his forehead to Blay's stomach, Bonding Scent pouring off
his body.

"Qhuinn?" Blay's voice was thick with concern.

Qhuinn swallowed hard and nuzzled against Blay's skin. He whispered in the Old

Language. "The things you do to my head and to my heart are unlike anything I have
ever felt before. You humble me and lift me all at once. I am not worthy of the love you
have."

Blay wasn't sure what brought him to the floor, first: Qhuinn's words, or the fact that

his knees buckled beneath him with the sheer weight of his emotions. Eyes stinging, he
kneeled in front of his lover, and drew him in for a kiss that spoke the thousand words
Blay was unable to say at that very moment. The kiss was drawn out, long and tender,
sucking the very breath from their lungs until their mouths became bruised and swollen
with the intensity of it. Qhuinn's hands found Blay's powerful thighs and tugged them
forward, easing the other male right onto his lap, where he held him firmly.

As large hands squeezed at his ass, Blay gasped sharply.

"I want inside of you," Qhuinn growled against his lips, the line of his cock pressing

against Blay, hard and thick beneath rough denim. "I need you. I don't care if I'm not fully
healed, yet. I can't stand not being inside of you any longer."

Blay stared at him breathlessly, his own cock achingly hard as it was squeezed

between their bodies. "I-

I…" he had to clear his throat. "…I have to go out into the field

tonight."

Qhuinn snarled, burying his face in the crook between Blay's neck and shoulder.

Blay curled his fingers through the back of his lover's hair. "I'll be home right before

dawn. You think you can hold out for that long?"

That raptor's gaze lifted to meet his, smoldering heat pouring from it. Qhuinn bucked

up, then, giving Blay just a taste of what he'd be missing out on. "Can you?"

A rare, soft whimper escaped passed Blay's lips, and he allowed his eyes to flutter

shut, mind flashing with images of the moment he thought he'd never experience with his
best friend. Images that had kept him company on long, lonely nights. He and Qhuinn,
naked together, writhing and bucking and marking each other. Qhuinn would be buried
deep inside of him, those vicious hips of his doing what they did best. Blay would have
that Bonding Scent all over his body, inside and out, eternally claiming him.

Fuck, he nearly came just thinking about it.

And when Qhuinn's long, wicked fingers suddenly slipped between them and curled

themselves around his cock, Blay threw his head back with a fierce growl, fangs bared,
an unexpected release wracking his body and tearing him apart, leaving him bare and
raw and at the mercy of the male beneath him. Qhuinn had hardly even touched him,
and it was enough to throw him over the edge. He began stroking, then, milking Blay's
release for all it was worth, his hand coated in glistening pearl ropes of seed.

"Fuck… Oh, fuck…" Blay buried his nose in Qhuinn's hair, writhing, breathing in his

scent.

Just as Blay softened in his palm, Qhuinn pressed a searing kiss to the bite mark on

the redhead's throat, and whispered, "Go. Go out and fight with the boys. I'll wait for
you."

Blay shivered, nodding as he lifted himself on wobbly legs and rose back to standing.

Extending a hand, he assisted Qhuinn back onto his feet. His lover adjusted his jeans,
which looked far too tight to be considered comfortable.

"You want me to take care of that?" Blay asked as he scooped up his own discarded

jeans and threw them on, his voice deeper, smoother.

Qhuinn shook his head, gathering him against his chest as soon as his Levi's were

done up, and brushed his mouth against his ear. Blay couldn't get enough of this; this
closeness, this constant touching between them. It was like they were exploring each
other all over again, familiarizing themselves with the shape and feel and taste of their
bodies that had been nothing but distant memories during the months they'd spent apart.

"Next time I come, it'll be inside of you." Qhuinn growled.

Blay moaned. Shamelessly.

Now there was a thought that would keep him warm out on the field tonight.

He could feel Qhuinn grin against his ear, and then their lips nuzzled together once

more. "Be safe out there. Text me if there is any trouble, and John and I will be there in a
fucking second to back you guys up. I don't care if I'm off rotation or not. You text me."

"I will."

"I can't lose you again."

Blay cupped his face, thumbs brushing under those beautiful mismatched eyes. "You

won't. I promise."

Once Qhuinn nodded, Blay pressed their foreheads together and stayed that way for a

few moments in an unspoken farewell, before drawing away and walking out into the hall,
off to throw on his leathers and weapons for the night of fighting ahead of him. As he
went, he could feel Qhuinn's eyes on the back of his head from where he stood in the
doorway; the stare, though he could not see it, taking Blay's breath away and filling him
with a rising heat that told him he was protected.

He'd take that feeling with him tonight.

It was better than any shield.

Chapter 17

Qhuinn was on a mission, and nothing and no one could get in his way tonight.

Half-marching, half-limping down the grand staircase, fully clothed and nuts screaming

at him for not allowing Blay to give them the release they ached for, he made straight for
the kitchen, shitkickers pounding loudly against the mosaic apple tree that made up the
floor of the foyer. From what he could see, the doggen were scrambling about, preparing
for Last Meal.

He could hear the blare of the television pouring out through the doors of the billiards

room, and Qhuinn slowed his pace as curiosity overtook him, the sounds unlike the usual
baseball game or one of Lassiter's terrible talk shows.

Not unless Maury decided to do a segment on whom the father was in an immaculate

conception.

That was the sound of a Goddamn church choir.

Heavenly voices, organ music, the whole friggen shebang.

"…The hell?" Qhuinn muttered to himself.

Brows drawn tight, he trotted over to the billiards room and shouldered his way in,

peering over at the flat screen mounted on the far wall. On the television was a sermon,
aired directly from St. Patrick's Catholic Church over in downtown Caldwell, and Qhuinn
expected to see Lassiter planted on the couch, glowing brightly with that ethereal light of
his while he got in touch with his Heavenly roots.

But, instead, he saw Butch.

The cop was seated casually, no glass of his usual booze cradled in one of his hands,

the heavy gold cross around his neck glinting in the light pouring off the television. He
was dressed nicely, almost too nice for a night off of lounging around the mansion. His
shellan Marissa was at the Safe Place tonight, and as far as he knew, V and most of the
others had gone out into the field with Blay.

Qhuinn was about to step out, not wanting to disturb Butch in what looked like a

private moment. Having come from a life as a human, the cop was still highly devoted to
his Irish Catholic roots, and made certain to attend church as often as possible. He and
Marissa even had a second mating ceremony at one.

"You don't have to go, Qhuinn." The cop's Boston-accented voice suddenly called out

over the sound of the choir.

Qhuinn paused, looking over. "Uh… Didn't want to bother you."

"You ain't." The cop patted the couch next to him. "C'mon. Plant it, kid."

Qhuinn did as bade without hesitation, having always enjoyed the cop's company. It

wasn't often that they hung out outside of the field. He moved around the couch and
lowered himself onto it, the black leather cushioning creaking under their combined
weight. With a content sigh, he settled back and lifted his eyes toward the screen, where
a human male in long white robes read aloud from a thick book. Qhuinn had no idea
what the hell he was yammering on about, having no knowledge of human faith, but it
seemed important.

"All alone tonight?" Butch asked softly, hazel eyes still trained ahead.

Qhuinn nodded. "Blay's out in the field, and John's with Xhex." He glanced sidelong at

him. "Why are you watching this on television? I thought you usually attended the
sermon at St. Patrick's."

"I don't have my own set of wheels, remember?" Butch stated. "With the Escalade at

the bottom of the Hudson, I'm shit out of luck until the new one V bought comes in. And
since I ain't the kind to dematerialize, I've got no way of gettin' to the church."

"I could've taken you."

"Nah," Butch flicked his hand dismissively. "Besides, it's cold as fuck out there, and

I'm much more content spending one evening on a couch then on those damn church
pews. I'm just lucky they like airing the services during blizzards, so those who can't
attend can still watch."

Qhuinn nodded in understanding, and turned mismatched eyes back toward the

screen. They fell silent, then, almost motionless, as the humans on screen carried on
with their time of worship. Though he had absolutely no clue what the fuck anyone was
talking or singing about, Qhuinn almost felt comforted by the whole thing. After a life of
being made aware that the mother of his own race, The Scribe Virgin, would look down
on him because of a birth defect he had absolutely no fucking control over, it was nice to
be in the presence of a faith that seemed welcoming.

As another haunting song from the choir filled the room, Qhuinn turned to Butch.

"Mind if I ask you something?"

"Not at all."

"This… Lord of yours." Qhuinn tried to find the right wording, not wanting to insult the

cop's religion in any manner. "Um, does He… Is He anything like The Scribe Virgin?
Does He believe that humans who are not made perfectly are considered disgraceful to
his creation?"

Butch looked downright appalled at that. "Fuck no."

"Really?" Qhuinn's brows shot up to his hairline.

Lowering the volume on the television somewhat, Butch turned his massive body on

the couch, to better face the vampire next to him. "God made us all in His image, but that
doesn't mean we all gotta look a certain way, or act a certain way, to please Him. He
doesn't care about gender, race, sexual orientation, or any flaws you think you may have.

As long as we're good people, He couldn't give a shit what we do or who we are. Hell,
you don't even have to believe in Him, and he'll still accept ya."

Qhuinn could only stare without a word, so Butch continued, expression softening.

"This is about your eyes, ain't it?"

On instinct, Qhuinn looked in another direction, some inner voice inside him that had

been cruelly nurtured by the words and actions of his parents telling him to hide his
defection away.

"Look, Qhuinn…" The cop sighed heavily. "I'm not used to the whole glymera thing, or

the beliefs of The Scribe Virgin, but I gotta say that, with all due respect, it's all a crock
load of bullshit."

Qhuinn frowned and risked a glance back over. "Everyone's been telling me that."

"Then why aren't you believing it, yet?"

"Guess it's hard to break a habit that was drilled into your skull the moment you'd been

born." Qhuinn wrung his hands together and, as he did, caught sight of the tattoo on his
wrist. He caressed loving fingers across the name written there, wondering if he would
ever get the chance to feel it carved into his back as well.

Not likely, given the Goddamn rules of his race.

Fuck.

"You don't think you can mate Blay because of your defect." Butch said softly.

Whoa, there.

Qhuinn recoiled. "How the fuck… Is V giving you mind-reading classes or something?"

"Not a mind reader, kid." Butch chuckled, tapping at his temple. "Just a cop. I'm pretty

good at observation, and I'll bet my favourite Sox cap that that ink on your wrist is Blay's
name."

Qhuinn's throat tightened, and he nodded once.

"You love him?"

For the first time, there was no hesitation. "With everything I am."

"Then, who the fuck is stopping you from being with him?" Butch snorted. "Flaws are

flaws. It didn't stop Wrath from being with Beth, and he's blind. It didn't stop Zsadist with
all his scars and his fucked up past, and now look at the guy. Happily mated and with a
daughter. V's got his curse, and he's got Jane; Mary accepted Rhage's Beast; Rehv's a
Goddamn sympath and Ehlena stuck with him. Hell, your buddy John is mute and Xhex
loves him no less, from what I can see."

As Butch spoke, the realization of it all hit Qhuinn across the head like a pillowcase full

of bricks, nearly knocking the lights right out. Why the fuck hadn't he seen it? Too many
years wallowing in his own self-pity and hatred of the society he lived in blinded Qhuinn
from what was around him all this time.

Powerful males, each one with enough flaws to make the glymera squirm in their lacy

knickers, sending a great big "fuck you" to the rules of the race by mating with beautiful
females of worth and being damn happy about it.

How the fuck was he any different?

How the fuck were mismatched eyes any worse than what the Brotherhood have to

deal with every day?

Holy shit…

"If you find someone you love, you don't let 'em go, no matter what anyone says,"

Butch 's voice travelled into Qhuinn's muddled thoughts. "In our fucked-up world, kid, you
gotta hang on to whatever happiness you got. If your happiness is Blay, you keep him.
No questions."

Qhuinn stared down at the floor, his mouth too dry to spit out a single syllable in

response. The weight of Butch's hand settled on his shoulder, then, and Qhuinn felt
himself sag under it, like years and years of pressure that had rested on his body, his
heart, his very fucking soul, were suddenly released, leaving him shaken and weak, but
the best he'd felt in, well… ever.

He felt restored.

Qhuinn opened his mouth to speak, but another voice cut in.

"You two having a chick-flick moment in here?"

The two of them turned just as Lassiter came strolling into the billiards room, a can of

grape soda with a straw grasped in one hand, his long blonde and black hair swaying
along behind him. The gold piercings and chains adorning his body glinted in the light
and made him jingle like something that belonged on a Goddamn Christmas tree. White,
pupil-less eyes roamed over the two massive soldiers, before lifting to the sermon on the
flat screen.

"Interesting choice of entertainment for a girl's night."

"V destroyed all your Sex and the City DVD's, so this was what we were stuck with."

Butch smirked, resting his arm across the back of the couch behind Qhuinn.

"That bitch."

Clearing his throat, and remembering that he had some business to attend to in the

kitchen, Qhuinn rose up off the couch and rubbed his palms on the front of his jeans. "I
should get moving. Have to do a couple things before Blay gets back in from the field."

"Romantic evening planned?" Lassiter asked as he sipped from his can of grape soda.

Qhuinn was taken back.

Jesus, does everyone in this mansion know about him and Blay?

"U-

um… I guess…"

"You need porn? I got some stellar porn that would be perfect for you guys." Lassiter

grinned around the straw. "Might spice things up."

Qhuinn clapped the angel on his broad shoulder and sucked in air through his

clenched teeth. "Thanks, but I think we'll be okay."

"Suit yourself." Lassiter shrugged, flopping down on the couch next to Butch. He

snatched up the remote and immediately changed the channel.

Qhuinn spun on his heel to leave, but faltered just outside the billiard's room door, an

idea pushing its way into his skull. "Hey, Butch?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna be in the kitchen for a while, but, when I'm done… You think you could

help me with a couple things? I'm not exactly an expert when it comes to the stuff I
need."

The ex-homicide detective lifted his hand and waved him off. "Go do your thing, kid,

and call me when you need me. I'll unfortunately be stuck in here with the angel's
company for a while, anyways."

The angel glanced his way. "Hey! I am a fucking delight."

Butch patted the angel's head, like one would a trained poodle, and whispered

soothingly as though any harsh words would make him skitter away with his tail between
his legs. "Shh. Just watch your crappy television."

"I can still smite you, y'know."

Qhuinn left soundlessly, a stupid grin plastered over his mug. He couldn't get rid of it,

even as he scrubbed his hand across his unshaven face.

Damn it, he felt good. For the first time in his Goddamn life, Qhuinn felt good.

The kitchen was a little less hectic by the time Qhuinn reached it, all the doggen

having gone off to finish off their own respective chores throughout the mansion while
what smelled like rosemary lamb cooked slowly in the oven. Wrath's favourite. Fritz, just
the man Qhuinn wanted to see, was busy checking on the slow-roasting meat, and
turned upon hearing someone walk in.

"Good evening, master Qhuinn," The doggen beamed as he slowly eased the oven

door shut. "Whatever can I do for you?"

Qhuinn came around the marble counter. "Can I ask you a question, Fritz?"

"But, of course."

"You prepare meals for everyone in this mansion, right?" Qhuinn stopped before the

doggen. "Would you happen to remember, like, hypothetically speaking…" He shrugged
his shoulders. "Blay's favourite thing to eat?"

Fritz took a moment to think back. "Duck, I believe."

"…Duck?" Qhuinn cocked a brow.

"Oh, yes. Master Blaylock greatly enjoys my roasted duck." Fritz nodded with a gentle

smile. "Extra crispy skin, basted in an orange liqueur ginger sauce, and resting on a bed
of fresh herbs and caramelized carrots."

Okay. Yum. Qhuinn's mouth was watering just thinking about that.

"Anything else you'd like to know?" Fritz asked, looking ever prideful in helping one of

the masters of the house in any way he could, even if it was just answering questions.

"Yeah, there's one more thing." Qhuinn rubbed his hands together.

"And that is?"

"Could you teach me how to make it?"

***

Blay was still wiping lesser blood out of his copper hair by the time he and the others

rematerialized at the front of the mansion, their sudden presences sending flurries of
snow that had collected on the ground cascading through the icy air like a burst of
confetti at a surprise party. The inky black sludge was all over his leathers and weapons,
and even his face.

If he didn't think those fuckers could explode before, he sure as hell did now.

Then again, getting your head bashed in from behind with a crow bar by Rhage would

kind of require a splash zone.

"Who else needs a fucking shower?" Rhage asked as he used the sleeve of his coat

to wipe his spattered face. It didn't help, the leather itself soaked in the sweet-smelling
ink, smearing a whole lot of it across his perfect cheekbones.

There was a collective rising of hands by the whole lot of them.

The fight tonight had been a brutal one. They'd been able to follow a small station

wagon full of lessers deep into the bowels of Caldwell, leading the group of them to an
old abandoned warehouse where a good squadron of the undead fuckers were housed
up all comfy cozy. Being new recruits, they weren't much of a challenge for the Brothers.
Clumsy, awkward, impulsive fighters, swinging and whacking at anything that came close
enough to do them damage. Blay, Rhage, Vishous, and Tohrment had handled the
fuckers within a couple hours, coming out with hardly a scratch among them. Tohr's
shoulder was bruised and achy from the guy getting nice and acquainted with a brick

wall, and V had a nice gash running down from his hairline to one of his dark brows.
Blay, himself, was a tad sore; especially his calve, which had been swung at with a
baseball bat. Not enough to shatter bone, thank The Scribe Virgin, but certainly enough
to make him wince each time he put weight on the thing.

The lessers had been popped back to their maker at the end of the night, leaving no

witnesses to report back to whatever misguided fucker that was running the show.
Though they weren't exactly top-notch fighters, the damn things were multiplying faster
than bunnies, and sheer numbers alone were just as much of a threat to the vampire
race as any small handful of skilful warriors.

This war was getting more dangerous.

"You guys get cleaned up," V said, diamond eyes running over Rhage and Blay's

spattered bodies. "Tohr, you go see Jane and check that shoulder of yours. I'll meet you
in the clinic after I'm done reporting to Wrath."

Blay nodded once and followed the group of Brothers back into the warmth of the

mansion. As they split up to go their separate ways, Blay could scent Last Meal as it
wafted out from the kitchen, and hear the blare of an episode of Cheaters sounding out
from within the billiards room, where Lassiter had no doubt hogged the TV, as he usually
did.

What he didn't see was the one thing he'd kept on his mind all night.

Making his way up to his room to scrub the black slick from his body, Blay felt his cell

phone vibrate in his back pocket. Pulling the thing out, he read the message, and it was
as if Qhuinn just knew he was being thought about right at that moment.

Meet me training cntr when u get in. Shower n dress nice.

Blay had to pause in the middle of the grand staircase as he read the message over,

head tilted curiously. The shower he understood. Blay was not about to head own there
dripping in black crap. It was the last part of the message that boggled his cranium.
Qhuinn wanted him to dress nicely… for the training center? How the hell did that make
sense? Did Qhuinn expect him to bench press in a three piece suit?

As if on cue, another message came in, and Blay had to laugh. I knw its weird. Don't

ask questions. Just do it.

Blay shrugged and replied: Be there in twenty. Missed you.

The reply was instantaneous: Missed u more.

Okay. Blay really had to stop himself from jumping up and down like some teenaged

girl as soon as he read that, his heart cart wheeling joyously in his chest. He could just
imagine himself in that kind of position, holding the phone to his chest, twirling in place
as he sighed wistfully, and falling back onto his bed with a dramatic swoon.

Ugh. He was such a sap.

Keeping whatever dignity he had left in check, he headed for his room and straight

into the shower, peeling off his ink-soaked leathers as he went and tossing them into the
laundry bin. He worked quickly, but thoroughly, standing beneath the hot spray as he
scrubbed away the blackness that had caked onto his skin and hair, ridding himself of
that nauseating baby powder stink. The scent of the fresh, minty soap that now covered
him from head to toe brought Blay's memories back to that night weeks ago when he and
Qhuinn had first been intimate as they shared a shower in the recovery room.

God, it was amazing how far they'd come.

Shutting off the spray, he stepped out of the shower and dried off, sighing as he

wrapped himself in a fluffy, freshly laundered towel that was still warm from the dryer.
Wrapping it around his waist, he slipped back into his bedroom to dress, but paused as
he did, a tightness filling his throat as he looked around.

All of Saxton's things were gone. Like he'd never been there to begin with.

Blay sighed shakily, running fingers back through his damp hair. Even without the

sound of jazz music softly playing from the stereo, or the scent of expensive cologne, or
the row of elegant shoes and loafers lined up by the dresser, Saxton's presence still
lingered here. He'd been the first person Blay had shared a space with, the first he'd ever
shared a bed with.

It'd be a while before he could look around and not be reminded of the months they'd

spent together.

Maybe he'd stay over in Qhuinn's room for a while. Cause he sure as hell knew his

buddy would not be keen on even walking into the same space where Blay had writhed
and moaned his cousin's name.

Shaking himself free of such thoughts, Blay tossed off the towel and threw open the

wooden doors to his wardrobe. He picked out a pair of slim-fitted dark slacks, and a
wide-necked turtleneck in soft cream-coloured wool, throwing them both on before
slipping a sharp brown blazer right over top. He laced up his brown leather brogues, and
then combed back his dried hair, neatening it up.

He wasn't sure if this was as "dressed nicely" as Qhuinn wanted him to be, but it was

the best he could do.

As he headed down to the training center, he caught sight of Butch by the door to the

billiard's room, Scotch in hand, and gave him a brief wave. The cop just smiled, a
strangely knowing smile, and lifted his hand, offering a thumbs-up.

Weird.

Descending down into the tunnels that lead to the training center, Blay stuffed his

hands into the pockets of his blazer and looked around. Qhuinn hadn't specified where
exactly to meet in this wide expanse of space, so Blay made sure to check each and
every room for his lover.

He couldn't hear the usual vibration of The Gorillaz in the weight room, which meant

Qhuinn was not working out there. He peeked in on the swimming pool. Nope. Empty.
The locker room was just as bare, as was the basketball court, and the gym.

"Where are you…" He whispered to himself.

Turning down another long stretch of concrete corridor, Blay reached the section of

the training center that was devoted to classrooms; spaces for the Brothers to train
young recruits in the war, and build them from pretrans into vicious, powerful fighters. It
was where he, Qhuinn, and John had formed their friendship. Where they'd grown
together.

God that all seemed like a lifetime ago.

Eyes narrowed, Blay noticed that the door to one of the classrooms down the long

narrow hallway was wide open, spilling light out into the corridor. Odd. No one used
these rooms anymore. Not with the glymera having left Caldwell after the raids.

"Qhuinn?" Blay called out softly as he started to jog down the hall, ignoring the

soreness in his calve.

He received no reply, and just as he slowed his pace to peer in through the open

classroom door, his heart just about stopped dead in his chest.

All the desks and that had been placed in neat rows within the small space had been

pushed back against the walls, leaving an open patch of bare floor right in the middle of
the room. There, a good dozen blankets and pillows in fleece and silk and every other
fabric imaginable had been laid out to make a nest just big enough to accommodate two
people. Upon them, an elegant little picnic had been set up; fine dishes and silverware
spread across the fabric surrounding a silver dome hiding a meal that smelled too
delicious to comprehend, bottles of wine and champagne and beer chilling in ice-filled
buckets off to the side. Even the classroom's fluorescent lighting had been dimmed
down, allowing the good hundred flickering candles that had been spread out throughout
the room to fill the space with warm, golden light.

And if that all wasn't enough? There, standing proudly right at the center of it all, his

mismatched eyes catching the light from the candles and making them glow almost as
brightly as the smile upon his face, was Qhuinn.

Qhuinn. In a suit.

Blay nearly passed out, clutching onto the door jamb just as he was sure he as going

to sway. He held a hand over his heart, the breath having been stolen so quickly from his
lungs, it made him wonder if he was even still alive.

Yup. His heart was still beating. Like a Goddamn jackhammer.

And then Qhuinn spoke, two little words, his voice softer than Blay thought he was

capable of. So tender, it just about brought Blay to his knees

"Hey, baby."

Chapter 18

With the way Blay was staring at him, those damn perfect baby blues of his widened

in awe, Qhuinn was almost certain his chest was going to split open with the amount of
pride that filled him. He was like an overinflated balloon, stretching the material of the
pinstriped suit that was now covering his massive body.

Christ, he'd never worn anything so damn fancy before.

Of course, he supposed he kinda had Butch to thank for that. After Qhuinn had

finished up with Fritz in the kitchen, the ex-cop swept him down into the Pit, threw open
the doors to his wardrobe, and gave Qhuinn the freedom to pick out any one of his
precious suits to wear for the evening. They were close in size, and he was really the
only Brother that lived in the mansion who had an unusually soft spot for Valentino and
Prada.

Having worn nothing in his life that wasn't leather, jeans, or grubby band shirts and

hoodies, Qhuinn had been struck stupid at the sight of it all. He hadn't seen duds this
fancy since he'd lived back home with his piss-poor excuse of a family. Probably why
he'd chosen his own personal style in the first place. If he was going to be excluded for
having mismatched eyes, may as well go all the fucking way by piercing his face like a
pincushion and dressing like a Metallica roadie.

Better than looking like a pompous fop with a stick up his ass, anyways.

But, not tonight. Tonight, he'd wanted to look good.

For Blay, and Blay only.

Amongst the sea of silk vests, cufflinks and pocket squares, Qhuinn had managed to

pull out a slim-fitted pinstriped number in smoky grey that caught his eye. It fit him like a
dream, and when he'd caught sight of his reflection in the mirror as he buttoned up his
vest and tied his slim black tie, he thought that, for the first time, he was deserving of
being seen on Blay's arm. He'd even combed his damn hair, too.

And thought he felt like a clown in the thing, the way Blay was running his eyes all

over him was so fucking worth it.

"You look…" Blay was breathless. "…you're beautiful."

Qhuinn swallowed hard, hands fumbling awkwardly with the lapels of his jacket as

warmth bloomed on his cheeks. Fuck, he was flustered. He'd never been flustered
before.

"Thanks, I…" He trailed off, mismatched eyes narrowing as Blay slowly came toward

him. "You're limping."

Blay paused and looked down at his leg. "Oh. Oh, yeah, I

—"

Before he could finish, Qhuinn swept around the nest of blankets and dropped to his

knees before him, large hands reaching out to cradle the powerful leg that was obviously
causing his lover some pain. He hiked up the pant leg of Blay's trousers, and growled at
the huge, vicious bruise he found beneath.

Fuck, he was shaking, visions of Blay back on that operating table flashing through his

mind's eye. "What happened?"

One of Blay's hands came to settle on his neat raven hair. "It's not a big deal."

"What. Happened."

Blay cupped his jaw, drawing his eyes up and away from the bruise. "It's not as bad as

it looks, Qhuinn. We all got into a brawl with a bunch of lessers, and one clocked me in
the calve with a baseball bat when I wasn't looking. Stupid move on my part for not
paying close enough attention."

"Did you see Doc Jane about it?" Qhuinn asked, his mouth gone dry.

"I didn't need to." Blay shook his head, offering a soft smile. "Like I said, it's not as bad

as it seems. Nothing is broken or fractured. Just sore. It should be fine in a couple
hours."

Qhuinn's jaw clenched, wanting to protest, wanting to drag Blay down the hall and to

the clinic just to make sure everything was going to be okay. But, he trusted his lover. He
needed to, or else this whole possessive thing was gonna drive them both batshit. Blay
was a grown male, perfectly capable of fighting his battles and dealing with pain just as
well as anyone else in this mansion. Qhuinn needed to learn to handle that.

Eventually.

Bonding Scent flaring, Qhuinn brought his mouth down onto Blay's leg and ran sweet,

healing kisses along the bruised flesh. "I don't like seeing you in pain."

With his leg lifted, Blay had to hold onto Qhuinn's shoulders to keep from toppling

over. "I know." His voice was a gentle lull. "I promise I'm okay. Nothing that an evening
with you can't fix."

God, coming from anyone else that would've sounded like a line from a cheesy rom-

com. From Blay? It soothed his nerves and made his heart fucking soar. Placing one last
kiss to the redhead's calve, Qhuinn dropped Blay's pant leg and rose back onto his feet,
only to grip onto his chiselled jaw and draw that perfectly plump mouth in for a long,
lingering kiss.

"Mm…" Blay hummed against Qhuinn's lips, blue eyes hazy with the cloud of Qhuinn's

Bonding Scent surrounding him as he pulled back and gestured to the picnic and candles
"What is all of this, anyways?"

Qhuinn smiled crookedly. "Me trying to be romantic, I guess?"

"Romantic?" Ginger brows shot upward.

Curling one arm around the other male, Qhuinn led Blay over to the blanket nest and

settled down with him on the comfortable mounds of soft fabric. "Yeah. Guess I wanted
to make up for… everything, really." Qhuinn shrugged. "I wanted to give you something
you deserved."

Blay shook his head with a smile. "You make me sound like an angel that needs

constant worshipping."

That's cause you are…

Qhuinn reached over and ran the backs of his fingers down Blay's freckled cheek.

"You're a male of worth. You're good to others, you're selfless and nurturing, you're shy
and reserved and intelligent beyond belief." He ran his thumb across Blay's lips. "You
were my first friend. My only friend for a long time, really. I'm just trying to give back what
you've given over and over to me."

Blay visibly swallowed, moisture building in his eyes. He captured Qhuinn's hand with

his own and kept it pressed to his soft cheek, mouth and nose nuzzling against his palm.
When a wave of sudden, dark spices wafted in from out of nowhere, Qhuinn was
suddenly struck dizzy. The scent was thick, musky, invading Qhuinn's senses like a
dense fog, blinding him to everything but Blay, and the need to have that scent all over
every last inch of his body.

And that's when he realized…

"That's not coming from me."

Holy shit.

Baby blue eyes snapped open, and Blay looked over, as if suddenly catching a whiff

of what had permeated the cool air of the training center classroom. He dropped
Qhuinn's hand and looked down at himself, as though he could somehow see the scent
on his wool turtleneck.

"I… I'm…" Blay stammered.

"Bonded." Qhuinn drawled, leaning in close to brush his nose against the patch of

Blay's throat peeking out from beneath the turtleneck, breathing in the intoxicating
spices. He growled. "Bonded to me."

Blay shivered, tipping his head back. "I guess I am."

"'Bout time, too." Qhuinn grinned, pressing a soft kiss to the pulse point on Blay's

throat. He could feel the hammering heartbeat of the other male on his lips, mingled with
the rich spices of his scent. "I was starting to get worried there."

Blay laughed. "Bite me."

"That really something you wanna say to me while I'm this close to your vein, baby?"

Qhuinn purred in his ear. "Mm… Why don't we have something to eat, first, and then I'll
get back to you on the whole biting thing."

With strong, demanding hands, he dragged Blay over across the blankets and up onto

his lap, where the other male comfortably straddled himself there. The sturdy weight of
Blay on his lap, the way the contours of their bodies seemed to melt together, chests and
stomachs and hips locking in place as though built for each other, had Qhuinn silently
asking himself how he could have ever waited as long as he had to be with this male.
How he could have ever doubted this. Doubted them.

Never again.

As Blay curiously watched on, Qhuinn reached out and lifted the silver dome that

concealed the platter of hot roasted duck. A thin plume of steam rose up into the air as
soon as it was released, filling the space with the intoxicating aroma of Blay's favourite
meal.

"Holy shit," Blay gawked at the food laid out before them. "You got Fritz to make us an

entire roasted duck dinner?"

"Not exactly," Qhuinn smirked, sliding the platter closer.

Blay eyed him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"Fritz didn't make this." Qhuinn gently tore a hunk of crisped skin and succulent meat

from the duck's breast with his fingers, and brought it up to Blay's lips. "I did."

Blay recoiled in shock. "You… what?"

"Yup." Qhuinn grinned. "It was all me."

"I thought you sucked at cooking."

"Me, too."

Blay cocked his chiseled jaw to the side. "Fritz didn't help at all?"

"Well, he was in the room…" Qhuinn shook his free finger in his lover's face. "But he

didn't touch it. He was just there to instruct me."

Blay looked between Qhuinn's face and the piece of duck still hovering over his lips, a

wave of emotions hitting his handsome features all at once. His deep voice was soft,
almost inaudible. "You went through the trouble of making me a meal?"

"I told you when we awoke earlier tonight that if you were gonna eat anything, it'd be

something I made with my own two hands." Qhuinn smiled genuinely. "I meant that."

"You're incredible."

"Only cause you make me that way."

Finally, Blay parted his lips and took in the offered piece of duck. Qhuinn watched, a

wide grin growing on his mug as Blay's face contorted in sweet bliss as the orange and
ginger flavour collided with his tongue.

"Mmm…" Blay groaned, chewing slowly. "Jesus, that's good."

"Yeah?" Qhuinn reached for another piece and fed it to his lover, who was all too

eager to take it. His own Bonding Scent was exploding off his body, mingling with Blay's
until the air became thick with it. "Eat as much as you want."

"You have to eat, too." Blay licked the grease from his lips.

Oh God… the quick swipe of wet pink tongue across plush lips was enough to get

Qhuinn all kinds of hot and bothered. Like it wasn't enough having Blay actually on his
lap. Memories of what his buddy could do with that tongue of his made Qhuinn shift in his
suit.

"I'm fine."

The other male snorted, reaching down to tear off a hunk of duck thigh. He brought it

to Qhuinn's lips. "You're not the only bonded male in this room, you know. I want to see
you fed."

Qhuinn smiled, opening his mouth for the piece of duck. "Insistent little thing, aren't

ya?"

"Stubborn, really." Blay smirked. "A quality I picked up from you."

"Mm," Qhuinn swallowed his bite. "Guess that means we hang out too much, huh?"

"Way too much."

"Should probably stop that."

"Probably."

In the long moments that followed, the two of them grew silent, words not needing to

be exchanged as they fed each other from the platter of duck and carrots. Qhuinn
shrugged off his suit jacket to get more comfortable, and helped Blay out of his blazer as
well. They even kicked off their shoes, lounging against each other amongst the sea of
fabric in their socks.

It was incredible how far they'd come since their pretrans days. The days where

Qhuinn was still living with his family, and spent many a night in the salvation of Blay's
home, where he only ever truly felt like he was accepted. Even now, as two bonded
lovers embracing by the light of a hundred flickering candles, their connection, their spark
that had guided them to each other right from the start, hadn't snuffed out, despite the
months of hardship they'd faced, both together and apart.

In fact, the damn thing grew brighter, stronger, like a blaze that could wipe out an

entire forest and city in a single night.

It was like everything they'd gone through, every obstacle, had led them to this very

moment.

By the time the duck had been picked clean, and four bottles of Corona had been

drained, Blay had nestled against Qhuinn chest like the giant ginger cat he was, belly full
and head tucked under his lover's chin while his copper hair was affectionately stroked
and played with by nimble fingers. The guy was downright massive in stature, and yet he
still managed to fit so snugly against Qhuinn.

Right where he belonged.

"This was perfect," he murmured against Qhuinn's throat. "You're perfect."

Qhuinn hummed contentedly. "Far from it, but thank you."

Blay lifted his head to lock onto mismatched eyes. "You're perfect to me. Every flaw,

every aspect that makes you you. It's all perfect."

"Saxton was perfect. He was made for you."

"No, he was made like me." Blay frowned. "He and I were very similar and, while I

admit that I enjoyed his company and having someone with the same interests and taste
as me, it wasn't what I was looking for."

Qhuinn stared down at him without a word, so Blay continued.

"Qhuinn, we all know that you're an arrogant asshole with a loud mouth and an

obnoxious sense of humor."

"How romantic of you to say."

"Shut up," Blay laughed, lightly punching his shoulder. "What I'm saying is, I accept

you for you. I always have. Mismatched eyes and leather and heavy metal and cocky
attitude combined. You think if I didn't want you just as you were, I wouldn't have fallen
for you in the first place?"

Qhuinn watched him, unable to speak with the knot of emotion that had decided to

take up residence right in his throat, blocking any sound from emerging.

C'mon, bozo, say something.

Fuck, what could he say to all this?

"We're total opposites, but I think that's what makes us work." Blay went on, gentle

fingers toying with Qhuinn's tie. "What made us friends in the first place. I need a roar
when all I can do is whisper, I need a hurricane when I'm nothing but a breeze. You're
everything I'm not, Qhuinn. You're adventure and chaos and violence and joy all
wrapped up in one. And that's what I need. It's all I've ever needed."

Jesus fuck.

Without a word, Qhuinn took his lover's face in both his hands and drew him in so

closely, not a breath could be passed between their bodies. Claiming Blay's lips in a
fierce kiss, he shuddered as he attempted to hold back the cascade of emotion coming

over him. But, as Blay reached up and stroked his thumb so tenderly across the blood
red teardrop tattooed on his cheek, Qhuinn lost it right there.

This was a male who loved him and respected him beyond all reasoning. This was his

best friend, someone who knew him better than anyone on this cruel, cocksucking
planet.

This was the male he wanted to be with for eternity.

No more hiding. No more doubts. No more fear.

It was time to step the fuck up and be happy for once.

That, he knew, he deserved.

"I love you," Qhuinn choked out. "Fucking hell, I love you so Goddamn much, Blay."

He felt Blay tense hard under his touches, and through tear-blurred vision, Qhuinn

could still see the shock on his best friend's face. He even stopped breathing for a
moment. Wiping his eyes clear with the backs of his hands, he curled his fingers into the
soft, wool sweater stretched across Blay's powerful chest, holding him steady as he
trembled.

Thin, glistening rivers of tears made tracks down each of Blay's freckled cheeks, and

he smiled, slowly, the amount of light behind his baby blue eyes enough to rival the sun
itself.

"'Bout time…" Blay whispered, repeating Qhuinn's words from earlier. "Was starting to

get worried there."

Qhuinn laughed, then. Bright, and loud, catching that face in his hands and kissing it

over and over again. He rolled over, gently easing Blay off his lap and flat onto the
blankets. He slid the empty platter aside to allow for more room, and settled himself
between Blay's parted thighs, grinning as their hands found each other and held on tight
while more kisses were exchanged.

"Say it again? Please?" Blay murmured.

Qhuinn was happy to oblige. "I love you."

"Again."

"I love you." Qhuinn kissed long, red lashes.

Blay curled fingers through the back of Qhuinn's raven hair. "Once more?"

"I love you, and I love you, and I love you, Blaylock." Qhuinn growled softly, licking

into the sweetness of his lover's mouth while his hands slithered down to slip beneath his
wool turtleneck. He could feel Blay's breath hitch under his touch, and he ran knowing
fingers across his broad, rippled stomach. "I can keep saying it if you like. I'll go all night."

Blay was quivering, heavily muscled thighs squeezing at Qhuinn's hips from either

side. He had tears running down his temples to settle in his copper hair, and Qhuinn
gently wiped them dry with his fingertips.

"Shh, baby…" He whispered soothingly.

"Sorry," Blay scrubbed a hand down his face and cleared his throat. "Overwhelmed."

Qhuinn nodded, completely understanding. "With happiness, I hope?"

"God, yes."

"Good," Qhuinn nipped at his lower lip. "Ditto."

With gentle hands, he reached down between them and grasped the hem of Blay's

turtleneck, tugging it upward. Blay sat up slightly, lifting his arms and allowing Qhuinn to
slip the garment off his body and toss it aside. He flattened his palms upon the redhead's
warm, broad chest, feeling his pecs rise and fall with each intake of breath, tracing over
each cord and cut of powerful muscle that rippled beneath taut flesh.

So fucking beautiful.

Mine… All mine…

Blay's hands curled into the pinstriped vest Qhuinn had on, and gave it a little tug, a

silent plea to get rid of the pesky layers of fabric keeping their bare skin separated.
Sitting up on his ankles, Qhuinn reached for the vest buttons with every intention of
tearing the damn constrictive thing off his body, but Blay's grip on his wrists stopped him.

"Let me." Blay whispered.

Qhuinn smiled, dropping his arms to the side and giving Blay the freedom to undress

him as he pleased. Sitting up, Blay reached for Qhuinn's vest buttons and slowly, one by
one, unclasped them. Though meticulous in his work, Blay was also just as impatient as
Qhuinn was to get them both as naked as possible. With every clasp undone on the vest,
Blay also popped open a button on the white shirt Qhuinn wore beneath, loosening both
garments at once so they could be rid of them at the same time. Qhuinn watched him do
this with a smirk, and listened to his soft breaths as he made his way downward. With
each pair of buttons, he could feel Blay's fingers and the cool kiss of classroom air brush
against his skin, pulling a shiver from his body.

And with each pair of buttons, Blay's Bonding Scent grew stronger, until Qhuinn was

punch-drunk dizzy from it.

God, that smell… So different from his own Bonding Scent. Qhuinn wanted to fill a

fucking bathtub with it and submerge himself until it soaked him from head to toe.

He wanted the whole Goddamn world to know who he belonged to.

"I want your scent all over me," he whispered.

Blay growled; the sound a low, animalistic rumble in his throat that Qhuinn found sexy

as fuck. "It will be."

Once Qhuinn's shirt was un-tucked from his trousers, Blay leaned in and gave

Qhuinn's collar bone a gentle nip. He pushed both the shirt and vest over Qhuinn's broad
shoulders, and then lifted his head, allowing Qhuinn to claim his mouth in another kiss as
he freed himself from the sleeves.

"Much better," Qhuinn grinned against his mouth.

Blay chuckled, thumbs giving Qhuinn's pierced nipples a teasing little strum. He fell

back, then, lying prone against the blankets while Qhuinn resumed his previous position
above him. As their hips locked together, they groaned loudly in unison, diamond-hard
cocks grinding together through the layers of fabric still separating them.

"F-

fuck…" Blay's breath hitched.

Qhuinn held back a vicious snarl, held back the urge to drive his hips roughly against

Blay's. He was so used to fast, dirty, raw sex, that his body all but screamed for it. But,
he'd be damned if he would go down that route right now. This wasn't some cheap whore
meant to be fucked against a wall at ZeroSum.

This was Blay.

His Blay.

"I want to make love to you," Qhuinn swallowed hard as he stared down into hazy blue

eyes. "Will you let me?"

Blay stared back at him with enough love in his eyes to make his knees weak.

"Please."

And that's all Qhuinn needed to hear.

The end