The Chosen

In the Old Language, he said, “Wherever I go, you shall ne’er be far from me. Wherever I sleep, you shall be beside me. What I eat, I shall share with you, and when I dream, we shall be together once again. My love, you are not gone from me ever, and I shall not take another. Till the very night I die.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that that was impossible.

But as if he knew what she was thinking—as usual—he just shook his head. “How could I be with anyone but you?”

She got to her feet in a shaky, disorganized rise, and when she came to him, he widened his knees so she could stand between them.

As she bent down to kiss him for the last time, her tears fell on his cheeks. “I love …”

She couldn’t get out the last word. Her throat had closed up.

Xcor’s hands shifted up her body until he cupped her face. “It was all worth it.”

“What?” she choked out.

“All that came before this one moment where I am loved by you. Even though we must part, I can say that what I feel for you made it all worth it.”

And then, with one final kiss … he was gone.

SIXTY-NINE

An hour later, Layla went to the Brotherhood mansion. She felt too light on her feet, as if the inside of her had been emptied of her vital organs—and she supposed that was true. There wasn’t much to her anymore.

Funny to have found herself and lost herself in such a short period of time.

And yet, as she mounted the mansion’s stone steps and approached the great door into the vestibule, she knew that that was just the mourning talking.

Or at least, she hoped it was.

If this was what every night for the rest of her life was going to be like? She was in a world of hurt. Literally.

Opening things up, she put her face in the monitor and waited for someone to answer the summons. Technically, it was Qhuinn’s night to take the kids, but he was still in a hospital bed, so she’d been told by Beth at around five in the afternoon that she could have them if she wanted them.

As if she would say no.

According to what she’d been told, Rhamp and Lyric had been brought back from the Sanctuary by Cormia a couple of hours ago, so they were upstairs—the hope had been, of course, that Qhuinn would be further along in his recovery. But apparently not.

She hadn’t asked what his injuries were. It was not really her business, and that made her sad. But what could you do.

“Oh, good evening, Chosen.”

As Fritz’s cheery voice greeted her, she realized she hadn’t even noticed that he’d opened the door. “Hello, Fritz. How fare thee?”

“Very well. I am so happy all are well.”

“Yes,” she said numbly. “Myself, also.”

“Is there aught that I may do for you?”

Well, you could turn around whatever airplane the love of my life is on right now and bring him back to me. Make him stay here with me. Have him—

She cleared her throat. “No, thank you. I’ll just go up and get the young.”

The butler bowed low and then Layla walked slowly toward the grand staircase. As she lifted her foot for the first step, she recalled her trip up from the basement at that charming little house—and worried whether this was her new lot in life.

Tearing up all over herself every time she took to a set of stairs.

And yet she managed to keep going.

That was, after all, what you had to do, even though your heart was breaking. Dearest fates, she had no idea what she was going to do with herself on the nights she didn’t have Lyric and Rhamp, but she was going to have to find something. Left to her current devices, she was liable to get swamped by her sadness at Xcor’s—

She stopped halfway up as a male came to the head of the stairs.

Putting her palms forward defensively, she said to Blay, “I’m allowed to take them. Beth told me so. I’m not here without permission.”

It felt like forever since she had seen the male, and she hated the necessary distance between them. But how else were they going to proceed? And oh, God, what if he didn’t give her the young? What if Qhuinn had heard she was getting an extra night and had mandated from his hospital bed that she not get the time?

On tonight, of all nights, she needed a visceral reminder of what she was going on for—

Before Blay could say anything, the chimes went off with someone else who had arrived at the mansion’s entrance. But Layla didn’t pay any attention to that. Why should she? She didn’t live here anymore—

Layla wheeled around.

And blinked at the impossible.

Qhuinn was coming in from the vestibule … with Xcor by his side.

Layla blinked again and rubbed her eyes, her brain incapable of comprehending what she was looking at. Surely Qhuinn, of all people, couldn’t … wouldn’t …

Wait, why wasn’t her male on an airplane?

Xcor lifted his stare to her and took a step forward … and then another. He didn’t focus on anything but her, all of the grandeur and the color of the foyer seeming to mean nothing to him.

Screw the whys and hows, Layla thought as she exploded into action, tearing down toward him, figuring if this was a figment of her imagination, she might as well find out right now.

And if she landed flat on her face on the mosaic floor?

She wouldn’t be in any more pain than she already was. “My love,” Xcor said as he caught all of her weight and held her from the ground.

As she started to cry in total confusion, and some sort of tentative joy, she looked over his shoulder.

Qhuinn was staring at the pair of them. And then he shifted his blue and green gaze up to where Blay was standing at the head of the stairwell—and started to smile.

Layla eased herself out of Xcor’s hold. Approaching the father of her young, she had to clear her throat and sweep her face. “Qhuinn—”

“I’m sorry,” he said to her in a rough voice. “I’m truly … sorry.”

All she could do was stare at him in shock.

With another quick glance to Blay, Qhuinn took a deep breath. “Look, you did the best you could, and this has been hard on everyone. I’m sorry I reacted like I did—that was beyond wrong of me. But I just … I love our kids, and the idea they might have been in danger? It terrified me right into insanity. I know that your forgiveness can’t come right away and—”

Layla jumped at him and put her arms around her youngs’ sire, and as she held onto him so hard she couldn’t breathe, she suspected neither could he. “I’m sorry, too, oh, God, Qhuinn, I’m so sorry …”

Messy, tearful apologies were the best kind, especially when they were accepted with open hearts on both sides.

When they finally broke apart, she fit herself under Xcor’s arm and Qhuinn put his hand out to the other male.

“Like I told you in the car coming here,” he said, “not that you need it or want it, but you two have my blessing. One hundred percent.”

Xcor smiled and shook what was offered. “For your support, I am more honored this night than any other.”

“Great. That’s real great.” Qhuinn leaned into Layla. “Turns out he’s not such a bad guy, after all. Go fig.”

As she laughed, Qhuinn clapped her male on the shoulder. “So come on, time to meet the kids. And see where you’ll be staying.”

The world went wonky on Layla again and she looked between Qhuinn and Xcor. “Wait, what is … what are you …”

“If the two of you are going to be properly mated”—the Brother put up his forefinger—“and I will tell you that I’m an old-fashioned male so I want the mother of my children to be properly mated, he’s got to live here.”

At that moment, chimes went off again, and Fritz, who was blotting his eyes with a white hankie, hustled back over to the door.

The butler let in Tohr—which wasn’t a surprise—and then all of the Bastards filed into the foyer as well. Every single one of them.

She looked at Xcor and Qhuinn in shock. “They’re coming here, too?”

“Kind of a package deal,” Qhuinn said with a grin. “Plus I heard they suck at pool, so that’s a bonus. Grab your shit, boys. This is Fritz. You will learn to love him, especially when he irons your socks.”