Black Dagger Brotherhood 11 - Lover at Last

injury to the family.
    Qhuinn, on the other hand? Before he’d been disavowed, he’d been put into the training program, maybe in hopes that he’d sustain a mortal injury in the field and have the good grace to die honorably for everyone.
    Stop! We’re not supposed to kill him!
    That had been the last time he’d heard his brother’s voice. Shortly after Qhuinn had been thrown out of the house, the Lessening Society had gone on a raid and slaughtered them all, Father, Mother, sister—and Luchas.
    All gone. And even though a part of him had hated them for all they’d done to him, he wouldn’t wish that kind of death on anyone.
    Qhuinn rubbed his face.
    Shower time. That was all he knew.
    Getting up on his feet, he stretched until his back cracked, and checked his phone. A group text to everyone announced there was a meeting in Wrath’s study—and a quick glance at the clock told him he was out of time.
    Which was not a bad thing. As he flipped into high gear and hustled into the bath, it was a relief to focus on real stuff instead of the bullshit past.
    Nothing he could do about the latter except curse it. And shit knew he’d done enough of that for twelve lifetimes.
    Wakey-wakey, he thought.
    Time to go to work.

THIRTEEN
    A round the same time Qhuinn was cleaning himself up at the main house, Blay came awake in the chair in that little underground office. The headache that served as his alarm clock was not from the port—it was from the fact that he’d skipped Last Meal. But man, he wished the booze had been behind the pounding in his skull. He could have used the out that he’d been a total, sloppy, lost-his-mind mess when he’d come down here.
    Cursing, he withdrew his legs from the desktop and sat up. His body was stiff as a board, aches blooming in all kinds of places as he willed on the overhead light.
    Crap. He was still naked.
    But come on, like the modesty elves would have snuck in and clothed him in his sleep? Just so he wasn’t reminded of what he’d done?
    Putting his shorts on, he shoved his feet into his trainers and then reached for his shirt—before remembering what he’d used it for.
    As he stared at the crumpled folds of cotton and felt the stiff places in the soft cloth, he realized that no amount of rationalization was going to change the fact that he’d cheated on Saxton. Physical contact with someone else was only one way of measuring infidelity—andyeah, that was the biggest divide. But what he’d done last night had been a violation of the relationship, even though the orgasm had been caused by his brain, not his hand.
    Getting to his feet, he was half-dead as he went to the door and opened it a crack. If there was anyone around, he was going to duck back inside and wait for a clear shot into the corridor: He so completely did not want to get caught coming out of this empty office, half-clothed and looking like hell. The upside to living at the compound was that you were surrounded by people who cared about you; the downside was that everybody had eyes and ears, and no one’s business was just their own.
    When he didn’t hear voices or footsteps, he exploded out into the hall and started walking briskly, like he’d been somewhere for a good reason and was heading to his room for an equally important purpose. He had a feeling he’d gotten away with it when he hit the tunnel. Sure, he didn’t usually go shirtless, but a lot of the Brothers or males did when they were coming from the gym—nothing unusual.
    And he really felt like he’d won the lottery when he stepped out from under the mansion’s grand staircase and got another good dose of empty-bowling-alley. The only problem was that, going by the sounds of china being cleared in the dining room, it must be later than he’d thought. He’d obviously missed First Meal—bad news for his head, but at least he had some protein bars in his room.
    His luck ran out as he took the stairs up to the second floor. Standing in front of the closed doors to Wrath’s study, Qhuinn and John were dressed for fighting, their weapons strapped on, their bodies covered in black leather.
    No way in hell was he looking at Qhuinn. Just having the guy in his peripheral vision was bad enough.
    “What’s going on?” Blay asked.
    We’ve got a meeting now
, John signed.
Or at least, we’re supposed to. Didn’t you get the text?
    Shit, he had no idea where his phone was. His room? Hopefully.
    “I’ll hit the shower and be right