A Warm Heart in Winter (Black Dagger Brotherhood 18.50) - Page 76

Right?

Lyric put her arms out, and that was Qhuinn’s cue to scoop—and scoop he did, gathering his daughter up and bringing her to his heart. In response, she made a whole bunch of cooing noises and babbling sounds. She was normally a quiet kid, but in situations like this, when it was just the two of them because her brother was distracted by another one of his missions, oh, she opened up big. It was like she patiently waited her turn, and as such, there was always a backlog of unexpressed opinions and commentary for her to get out.

Meanwhile, across the blue-and-yellow padded floor, Rhamp was up on his feet and throwing punches at the ball. Both of the twins were still a little unsteady when walking, but coordinated activity improved Rhamp’s balance.

And he’d found a helluva rhythm.

Qhuinn pictured them at five years old. At ten. At fifteen and twenty. At… fifty and a hundred… all their lives ahead of them, adventures to be had, love to be discovered, challenges to best and good fortune to find.

“Oh, Luchas,” he whispered. “Why couldn’t you have stayed for them…”

Yet even as that occurred to him, he realized that he was being self-centered. After all, the twins were his young, not his brother’s—

The door to the playroom opened—and he tried not to glare at whoever it was.

When he saw it was Layla, Qhuinn closed his eyes in frustration. “I thought you said I’d have forty-five minutes.”

Layla’s voice was gentle. “You’ve been in here for an hour and a half.”

His lids popped. And he frowned.

Sometime in the last, well, ninety minutes, apparently, he’d sat down against the wall. Lyric was face-up in his lap, sprawled across with her feet draped over one side and her back braced against the other. Rhamp, meanwhile, had come over from his red-ball-abusing session and found the crook of Qhuinn’s arm.

They were both fast asleep.

Swallowing hard, he watched their chests rise and fall, heard their gentle breaths through parted mouths, felt their warmth against him.

“I would like to help feed them,” he said in a hoarse voice. “And then after… I think it’s Blay’s and my turn for bath.”

When there was no reply, he looked up from his young. Layla was standing in the doorway, her hand over her mouth, a tear rolling down her cheek. Behind her, Xcor loomed big as a mountain, silent as the sky. The male’s hand was resting on his shellan’s shoulder, protectively, lovingly. His eyes were dry, but the sadness in them darkened them nearly to black.

“Yes,” Layla said. “I think it is your turn.”

Qhuinn glanced down. “They look so comfortable.”

Xcor’s voice was deep and grave. “That is because they know they are safe with their father.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Blay traveled fas

t through the training center’s tunnel. He actually jogged for part of the way—which he knew was overkill. What he was worried about happening would not happen. It was just paranoia that the already horrible situation they were all in was going to get worse.

At least he was pretty sure it wouldn’t happen.

Blasting through the office, he didn’t run into anybody, and this was good. Hopefully no one had gotten to thinking.

As he came up to the clinical area, he wondered how much time anyone would have had to intervene if somebody had known Luchas had walked out into the storm. Like, if only an alarm had gone off when the hatch had been opened—no, Luchas had used the code. Okay… fine. So if some kind of notice had pinged V’s phone that there had been a departure… maybe Manny and Doc Jane could have been told to run out and turn the male back around.

Blay jumbled to a halt in front of the last patient room. The door was the same as all the others, made of the same wood that had been properly stained—no particleboard or laminated plastic for the Brotherhood, even in the clinical areas—the exact color as all the others.

He was never going to be able to look at the door the same again.

No one else would, either.

His hand was oddly steady as he opened things up. It was his entire body that was shaking.

The inside of the room… was exactly as it had always been. The hospital bed was across the way. In the corner, there was a homey stuffed chair and an ottoman, next to which was a side table with a lamp and a book. And that was… it.

Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy
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