Bhric sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the bottle of scotch in his hand. He should be the happiest male alive, but he wasn’t. His memories had returned, he was back with his loving family and could sleep in his bed again, yet he was more lost and confused than ever.

He wanted his mate. Alex should be by his side. He yearned to lay her bare on his sheets and pleasure her until she begged him to stop, then repeat it all over again. Bhric needed to hold her in his arms and feel her flesh against his. Instead, he held a bottle of scotch.

Thanks to the head injury, Bhric no longer craved alcohol, but he recalled the comforting numbness it offered. It was his go-to when stressed, and liquor never disappointed.

When he was a stripling, and the agony of losing his parents ravaged him, Bhric turned to ale. Then, it took a mere glass, or two, to forget that his parents had abandoned him. After he transitioned, and grew bigger, he needed to consume more to get the same effect. He hadn’t forgotten the hatred he felt toward his mamai and da, but he understood their actions now that he had a Fated Mate.

After shoving him and Breslin in the safe room, there was no way his father could have remained with them when his Fated Mate was in danger. For centuries, Bhric hated his father for abandoning helpless children, but now that he had Alex, Bhric knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect her. With this understanding, some of the burden he carried for over seven hundred years eased.

The stress of his current predicament, and not knowing if Alex would come back was driving him to chug the bottle in his hand.

The shock in Alex’s eyes replayed in his mind. He felt her fear when he introduced her to his family and friends. Thinking she would embrace his world like she did him, Bhric was surprised when she turned and fled.

What frightened Bhric most about Alex’s reaction was that she’d only seen the positive aspects of his life. How would she react to the demons that prowled her world? Inevitably, she’d be face to face with them, and how would she feel about the ugliness of that reality?

Bhric knew he should let her go so that she could resume her normal life, but he couldn’t. She was his mate, and he couldn’t live without her. Literally. He was unable to feed from another source now that he’d found her. Fuck, he never caught a break.

He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a deep swig, wanting to ease the ache in his chest. As soon as the liquor hit his taste buds, Bhric gagged then spit it out. How the hell did he drink this stuff before? It was nasty shit, and he couldn’t force the crap down his throat. He wished to reach that comforting state of euphoria. Apparently, he was going to have to learn better coping mechanisms, and fast.

The ache along the mating bond throbbed and he rubbed his chest. Not even scotch could numb that pain.

He sent a burst of power to the bottle and watched the contents freeze solid. All he craved was another taste of Alex, but she was gone. Bhric’s emotions spiraled out of control when he thought of never seeing her again.

His life would be over, and he would perish in an agonizing way. He would slowly starve to death. Having fed from his Fated Mate, he could no longer ingest blood from anyone else, and if she never returned, he would slowly wither away and die.

Not that it mattered if he could feed. Bhric didn’t want anyone but Alex. After awaking and realizing he had no memory, she became his entire world. That didn’t change when his memories returned. He needed her now more than ever.

He hurled the bottle at his bedroom wall, and it embedded in the sheetrock with a loud thud. Several pictures along the wall fell to the ground and shattered on the wood floor. Tiny shards scattered like ants fleeing a disturbed anthill.

Without liquor, or Alex, to soothe his frayed nerves, Bhric’s rage escalated. He fisted his short hair and yanked, hoping to rein in his temper. It didn’t help and his body shook uncontrollably. He was losing it.

Standing, Bhric snatched the bedside table. The contents on its surface tumbled to the floor. He held the table with both hands and brought it down against his knee. It snapped in two from the force. Bhric took one of the broken legs and tossed it towards the wall. Like a dart, it punctured the plaster.

“That’s right, motherfucker. You done assed out!” Bhric yelled as his fury spun like a tornado, demolishing everything in sight.

He grabbed a lamp from the floor and hurled it across the room. It smashed against the doorway and Breslin screamed as it exploded against the wooden doorframe.

“Bhric, what the hell are you doing?” Breslin shouted.

He hadn’t heard her enter his suite and her voice startled him. His twin’s presence usually brought him out of any funk. It was one reason she’d been so upset about his drinking. They shared a strong bond, but when her presence couldn’t overshadow the shitstorm of his life, he turned to scotch.

“Get oot, puithar! I doona need your lectures right now,” he growled and picked up his king-sized mattress.

With little effort, Bhric ripped the mattress in half, as if it were a sheet of paper. Stuffing filled the room as he destroyed the object. He tossed the mattress aside and picked up his favorite recliner, hurling it towards the wall. The loud boom echoed as a large chunk of sheetrock crumpled, exposing the lath and plaster behind it.

“Brathair!” barked a familiar voice. Bhric glanced over and met Zander’s piercing blue gaze.

“Get oot. I doona need your shite, either,” Bhric snapped.

“Training room. Now,” his brother ordered, glaring at him.

Bhric knew what Zander was doing. Providing an alternative outlet for his rage. Fine. Bhric needed to fight.

“You better bring your fucking A-game, Z. I willna go easy on you,” Bhric growled.

“Ha! You couldna handle my A-game, arsehole, but let’s see what you’ve got,” Zander scoffed.

Bhric looked to Breslin, and noted her arms crossed over her chest. He didn’t sense anger, but felt her concern and worry. Bhric glanced back to Zander who was still standing in the doorway of his bedroom. Apparently, he wasn’t budging until Bhric did.

Bhric stomped past his brother and sister, and bee-lined for the training room. As he walked into the large area in the basement of Zeum, he didn’t bother grabbing a helmet, or even gloves. He wanted hand-to-hand combat. Bhric jumped onto the pad of the boxing ring and hefted one leg then the other over the ropes.

Zander entered the room moments later and hurdled the ropes, landing softly on his feet. His brother was agile as hell. He’d give him that. Zander bounced from toe to toe as he shook his arms and leaned his head from side to side.

The Dark Warrior training room had everything from weights, weapons, punching bags, treadmills, several elliptical machines, and a sparring ring. Every piece was state of the art equipment. Nothing less than the best would do for their program. Countless lives depended on them being the best.

This was where Nikko trained new Dark Warriors, and where many of the warriors went to let off steam. Bhric noticed Gerrick and Rhys working out with the free weights, but ignored them when they greeted him.

“Aye, you better loosen up, ole man,” Bhric taunted as he looked back to his brother.

Zander threw a couple of air jabs, and scoffed, “It seems my baby brathair has forgotten all the times I kicked his arse. I’d say it’s time for a reminder. But first, you want to tell me why you were destroying your room? Do you not care for that hideous décor you picked oot so many years ago?”

“Fuck you,” Bhric spat and charged Zander, taking a swing at his face.

Zander ducked and swerved, then pushed Bhric to the ground.

“Damn, bro, thought you were faster than that,” Zander taunted.

Bhric quickly jumped to his feet and swung again, this time connecting. Zander’s head jerked and blood spurt from his nose.

“Is that bett—?” Bhric began, but Zander swung out, punching him in the ribs. A crack followed by pain told Bhric it garnered him a few broken bones.

Damn, his brother hit harder than he remembered. Under normal circumstances, Bhric would have appreciated the hit and asked how he managed to increase his strength. After so many centuries of training, Bhric was at the top of his game, but continually searched for ways to improve.

“Let’s dance,” Zander said, curling and extending his fingers in challenge.

Bhric recalled the times Zander took him to the ring when he was a stripling, transitioning into adulthood. He wasn’t the most obedient of his siblings, and received more punishments than Kyran and Breslin combined. A lot of his bad choices ended with him and Zander duking it out in the ring.

When Zander assumed the mantle as Vampire King, he was often overwhelmed with his tasks, and not always available to help Bhric cope with his excess energy, but the male was the only father Bhric had ever known.

Bhric charged forward and wrestled his brother to the ground. A brawl ensued. They tangled and fought as punches were thrown. Bhric released all his hurt, pain, confusion, and fear with every blow and Zander took it without complaint. This was what a good father did for his children.

Bhric could hear commotion in the room, and knew others had walked in to see what was going on, but he paid no attention to it. All he focused on was taking his frustrations out on Zander. He couldn’t stop the hurt of Alex walking out on him.

Bhric loved her beyond reason. Every scar, every doubt, every imperfect inch of her.

A sudden jolt to his system had Bhric tossing Zander aside. Bhric grabbed his right side. His mate mark flamed hot, but it wasn’t the same sensation he’d felt before. It was different this time. Something was wrong, and it was connected to Alex.

Zander crawled on all fours to his side, panting. “What is it?” his brother asked.

“I’m no’ sure,” Bhric breathed, his chest heaving.

Alex’s panic was a living entity in his chest and made it difficult to breathe. Fuck, he couldn’t even think straight.

Off to the side, Bhric heard clapping. “Damn, that was some good shit, there. I can’t wait to spar with you two,” Tristan shouted as he continued to clap his hands.

Bhric didn’t know the newcomer very well, but he had a feeling the young male was going to meet his fists a time, or two, before he became an adult. The stripling was a hothead and had a big mouth that needed shutting. It reminded Bhric of what he’d been like at that age.

“Show’s over. Get oot, everybody,” Zander ordered as he propped his back against the ropes of the ring.

Bhric looked over to see Tristan, Gerrick, Rhys, and Nate leave the training room. He couldn’t blame them for watching. He would’ve been on the front row with popcorn if Zander and Kyran were going at it.

Bhric crawled his way over to Zander and sat beside him. They were a bloody mess. Zander’s nose had stopped bleeding, but his hands were covered in Bhric’s blood. Bhric rubbed his jaw and checked to see if any teeth were loose, all the while his chest tightened further.

“Great fucking shot,” Bhric murmured as he stretched his mouth, making sure it wasn’t broken.

“Aye, it was,” Zander laughed. “I think you punctured my lung, arsehole.” His brother’s complaint was laced with affection as he cradled his side.

“Remind me never to fight you again,” Bhric replied as he took a deep breath, and coughed from the pain that followed. He wished it was solely from the beating he’d taken, but that was only half of it.

“Duly noted. Now, you ready to talk aboot what’s going on?” Zander asked sincerely.

With a heavy sigh, Bhric looked to the ceiling. “‘Tis Alex. I doona know what I will do if she doesna want this mating. I’ve never felt like this before aboot a female. I canna survive withoot her, and it scares the fuck oot of me,” Bhric admitted.

“Aye, tis verra scary. I remember feeling the same way aboot my Elsie. She wasna sure if she wanted to mate me, either. I was oot of mind for a while, remember?” Zander asked.

Bhric recalled when Zander destroyed the war room when Elsie was in danger. It seemed destructive behavior ran in the family.

“Aye, I do. You were an impossible jackoff,” Bhric teased as he rubbed the ache in his chest.

“I doona have all the answers, brathair, but what I do know is we have all faced challenges with our mates. Not one of the warriors at Zeum has had a smooth ride where mating is concerned. Have faith in the Goddess’s choice for you. I believe in my heart that it will work oot between you and Alex. She may need time, but ‘tis worth it in the end. She’s your Fated Mate. There isna a greater blessing,” Zander explained and his words of wisdom reverberated in Bhric’s mind.

As much as Bhric wanted Alex to rejoice along with him, this was an enormous change to her life. Of course, she would need time to adjust. And yes, she might reject him for a bit, but she couldn’t deny the connection they shared. All it took was one touch, and they were both ravenous for each other.

Again, his mate mark pulsed. It wasn’t so much an urging to complete the mating as it was a foreboding. Bhric rubbed his side, trying to soothe the burning pain.

“Your mate mark bothering you?” Zander asked.

“Aye, the fucker is relentless,” Bhric responded. “But, there is this strain along the mating bond and I think it’s making the pain worse.”

“Can I see it?” his brother questioned. Bhric nodded and lifted his t-shirt.

Zander gasped. “Holy, shite. That isna the Tarakesh cross,” he stated and looked to Bhric, shock written across his face.

His brother was right. It hadn’t dawned on Bhric until Zander mentioned it. Zander and Kyran’s mate marks were a cross that represented their family lineage. Bhric’s was completely different, a combination of fire and water.

“It would seem your mark is more aboot Breslin than our family. Makes sense, given you’re twins. Still, I wonder the meaning behind it,” his brother observed.

“I doona know. I didna think aboot it until you said something,” Bhric answered, looking at the brand that signified he found his Fated Mate.

Before he could think more about the anomaly, Orlando rushed into the training room.

“Hey, sorry to break up your lovemaking, but I just got a call. There’s been an attack at Harborview. Several deaths and multiple injured,” Orlando said in a rush, his emerald eyes connecting with Bhric as his hand raked through his white-blond hair.

Bhric’s mate mark pulsed again, and he knew Alex was involved. The sensations bombarding his body were Alex reaching out to him. The bond they shared was warning him. Was she hurt? Or worse?

Leaping to his feet, he barked, “What the fuck are we doing standing around? Let’s get there, now!”

Alex was in trouble and time was of the essence. Bhric dashed out of the room, not waiting on the others.

His mate needed him and he refused to fail her.