Lover Revealed (66 page)

After a moment, Wrath walked forward to the altar and picked up the skull, lifting it high, presenting it to the brothers. "This is the first of us. Hail to him, the warrior who birthed the Brotherhood."

As the brothers let out a war cry that filled the cave, Wrath turned to Butch.

"Drink and join us."

Butch went for it with gusto, grabbing the skull, tilting his head back, pouring the blood right down his throat. The brothers chanted as he drank, their voices getting louder and louder, ringing out. He tasted each one of them. The raw power and majesty of Wrath. The vast strength of Rhage. The burning, protective loyalty of Phury. The cold savagery of Zsadist. The sharp cunning of Vishous.

The skull was taken from his hands and he was pushed back against the wall.

Wrath's lips lifted darkly. "Better hold on to those pegs."

Butch gripped them just as a wave of churning energy slammed into him. He bit down to keep from letting out a howl and was dimly aware of the brothers growling in approval. As the roar increased, his body began to buck against the pegs like he'd front-loaded his nose with a kilo of blow. Then everything whacked out on him, every neuron in his brain firing, every blood vessel and capillary filling. With heart pounding, head swimming, body straining, he—

Butch woke up on the altar, naked and curled on his side. There was a burning sensation on his chest, and when he put his hand to it, he felt something grainy. Salt?

As he blinked and looked around, he realized he was in front of a black marble wall etched with what must have been names in the Old Language. God, there were hundreds of them. Stunned by the sight, he sat up and pushed himself to his feet. When he stumbled forward, he somehow caught his balance before he would have touched what he knew was sacred.

Staring at the names, he was certain they had all been carved by the same hand, each one of them, because every symbol was of identical and loving quality.

Vishous had done this. Butch didn't know how he knew—no, he did. There were these echoes in his head now… echoes of the lives of his… brothers? Yes… and all these males whose names he read were his… brothers. He somehow knew each of them now.

With wide eyes, he followed the columns of writing until… there… there it was, down on the right. The one at the bottom of the line. The last one. Was it his?

He heard clapping and looked over his shoulder. The brothers were back in their robes, but the hoods were down. And they were beaming, positively beaming, even Z.

"That's you," Wrath said. "You shall be called the Black Dagger warrior
Dhestroyer
, descended of Wrath son of Wrath."

"But you'll always be Butch to us," Rhage cut in. "As well as hard-ass. Smart-ass. Royal pain in the ass. You know, whatever the situation calls for. I think as long as there's an
ass
in there, it'll be accurate."

"How about bastard?" Z suggested.

"Nice. I feel that."

They all started laughing and Butch's robe appeared in front of him, held by Vishous's gloved hand.

V did not meet his eyes as he said, "Here."

Butch took the robe, but he didn't want his roommate to run. He said with quiet, urgency, "V?" Vishous's brows arched, but his eyes stayed away. "Vishous? Come on, man. You're going to have to look at me sometime. V… ?"

Vishous's chest, expanded… and his diamond stare slowly swung to Butch. There was a heartbeat of intensity. Then V reached out and repositioned the cross so it once again hung over Butch's heart. "You did well, cop. Congratulations, true?"

"Thanks for putting me up for it…
trahyner
." As V's eyes flared, Butch said, "Yeah, I looked up what the word meant. 'Beloved friend' fits you perfect as far as I'm concerned."

V flushed. Cleared his throat. "Good deal, cop. Good… deal."

As Vishous walked off, Butch drew the robe on and looked down at his chest. The circular scar over his left pec was burned into his skin, a permanent marking, just like the one each of the brothers's had. A symbol of the bond they shared.

He ran his fingertip over the sealed up scar and salt granules fell free to the glossy floor. Then he looked to the wall and went over there. Crouching down, he touched the air above his name. His new name.

Now I am truly born
, he thought.
Dhestroyer, descended of Wrath son of Wrath
.

His vision got blurry and he blinked fast, but his lids couldn't keep up. As the tears rolled down his cheeks, he quickly brushed them aside on his sleeve, And that was when he felt the hands on his shoulders. The brothers—
his
brothers—had surrounded him and he could feel them now, could actually… sense them.

Flesh of his flesh. As he was flesh of theirs.

Wrath cleared his throat, but still, the king's voice was slightly hoarse. "You are the first inductee in seventy-five years. And you… you are worthy of the blood you and I share, Butch of mine blooded line."

Butch let his head fall loose on his shoulders and he wept openly… though not out of happiness, as they must have assumed.

He wept at the hollowness he felt.

Because however wonderful this all was, it seemed empty to him.

Without his mate to share his life with, he was but a screen for events and circumstances to pass through. He was not even empty, for he was no vessel to hold even the thinnest of air.

He lived, though was not truly alive.

Chapter Forty-nine

On the way back to the mansion, everyone was full of energy and talking it up in the Escalade: Rhage was popping shit as usual. Wrath was laughing at him. Then V got to throwing back, and before long everyone was taking potshots at each other. As brothers do.

Butch settled himself deep in the bucket seat, aware that this homecoming, like the ceremony beforehand, was of such great joy for the Brotherhood. And even if he couldn't feel that, he was truly glad for them.

They parked in front of the mansion, and when Butch got out, the big house's vestibule doors swung wide and the Brotherhood formed an open circle behind him. The chanting started again, and they processed into the rainbow-colored foyer to great applause: The
doggen
were there waiting, all twenty of them, and in front of the servants were the three females of the compound dressed in breathtaking gowns. Beth was wearing the bloodred one she'd been married in, Mary was dressed in royal blue, and Bella was in shimmering silver.

Butch wanted Marissa there so badly, he couldn't stand to look at the
shellans
from the ache in his chest. He was about to make a desperate, pansy break for the Pit when the sea of bodies parted and…

Marissa was revealed in a gown of vibrant peach, the color so lovely and vivid he wondered if sunshine hadn't condensed in her very form. And the chanting stopped as she came forward. Confused, unable to understand the why of her appearance, Butch nonetheless reached for her.

Except she went down to her knees in front of him, the gown pooling all around her in great waves of satin.

Her voice was husky with emotion as she ducked her head. "I would offer you, warrior, this pledge of luck when you fight." She lifted her hands up and in her palms was a thick braid of her hair tied on either end with pale blue ribbon. "It would be my pride to have you keep this on you in battle. It would be my pride to have my…
hellren
serve our race. If you still… would have me."

Completely wiped out by the gesture, Butch eased down to the floor and lifted up her trembling chin. As he thumbed away her tears, he took the braid from her and cradled it to his heart. "Of course I would have you," he whispered. "But what's changed?"

She glanced back at the three females of the house in their majestic dress. Then in an equally quiet voice, she said, "I talked to some friends. Or rather, they talked to me."

"Marissa…" It was all he could say. And as his voice seemed to have dried up, he kissed her.

When they embraced, a great cheer rose up into the vast foyer.

"I'm so sorry I was weak," she whispered in his ear. "Beth and Mary and Bella came to see me. I'm never going to be at peace with the danger you face as a member of the Brotherhood. I'm going to worry every night. But they trust their males to be careful, and I… I believe you love me. I believe you wouldn't leave me if you could help it. I… I believe you will be careful with yourself and that you will stop if the evil threatens to overwhelm you. If they can handle the fear of loss, so can I."

He squeezed her even tighter. "I'll be careful, I swear.
I swear
."

They stayed on the floor, locked together, for a while. Then Butch lifted his head and looked at Wrath, who had taken Beth into his arms.

"So, brother," Butch said. "You got a knife and some salt? Time to finish a certain mating, you feel me?"

"We've got you covered, my man."

Fritz came forward with the same pitcher and bowl of Morton's best that had been used at Wrath and Beth's ceremony. And Rhage and Mary's. And Zsadist and Bella's.

As Butch looked into his
shellan's
, pale blue eyes, he murmured, "Darkness will never take me… because I have you. Light of my life, Marissa. That's what you are."

Chapter Fifty