Chapter Seventy-Six
Qhuinn didn't know what the fuck was up. People fucking poofing it in and out of the fucking foyer, shit going south. . . until Autumn came the fuck back.
If there had ever been a time to drop the f-bomb, tonight was it.
But at least it ended okay, with all being recovered, and the ceremony completed: With Autumn standing beside Tohr, John had been branded twice, once for Wellsie, once for the lost brother he'd never meet. And then, after the salt had sealed those wounds, the crowd had gone up to the highest point in the house where Wellsie's urn had been opened and revealed to the air, her ashes lovingly carried up and out to the heavens by the gusts of a rare easterly wind.
Now, everyone was heading back down to the dining room to eat and recharge; after which they'd no doubt go off to pass the fuck out in their rooms as soon as they could politely disengage.
Everybody was just about done, himself included, and that conviction had him turning to Layla as they reached the foyer. "How you doing?"
Man, he'd been asking her that nonstop for three days straight, and each time, she'd told him she was fine, and hadn't started to bleed yet.
She wasn't going to bleed. He was sure of this, even if she had yet to believe it.
"I'm good," she said with a smile, as if she appreciated his kindness.
The good news was that they were getting along really well. He'd been worried after the needing that things would get weird or some shit, but they were like a team that had run a marathon, reached a goal, and were ready for the next challenge.
"Can I get you some food?"
"You know, I am hungry. "
"Why don't you head up, have a lie down, and I'll bring you something. "
"That would be lovely - thank you. "
Yup, it was nice the way she smiled at him in that uncomplicated and warm way, the one that made him love her like family. And as he escorted her back over to the base of the stairs, it was good to smile at her in the same manner.
All that simple-and-easy ended as he turned around. In the library, through the open doors, he saw Blay and Saxton talking. And then his cousin stepped in and pulled Blay into his arms. As the pair of them stood together, body on body, Qhuinn took a deep breath and felt a little death of his own come to him.
He guessed this was how it ended for them.
Separate lives, separate futures.
Hard to think that they had started out inseparable -
Abruptly, Blay's blue stare found his.
And what Qhuinn saw in it caused him to falter: Love shone out of that face, unadulterated love untempered by the shyness that was very much a part of his reserve.
Blay didn't look away.
And for the first time. . . neither did Qhuinn.
He didn't know whether the emotion was about his cousin - it probably was - but he'd take it: He stared right back at Blaylock and let everything he had in his heart show in his face.
He just let that shit fly.
Because there was a lesson in this Fade ceremony tonight: You could lose the ones you loved in the blink of an eye - and he was willing to bet, when it happened, you weren't thinking about all the reasons that could have kept you apart. You thought of all the reasons that kept you together.
And, no doubt, how you wished you'd had more time. Even if you'd had centuries. . .
When you were young, you thought time was a burden, something to be discharged as fast as possible so you could be grown-up. But it was such a bait-n-switch - when you were an adult, you came to realize that minutes and hours were the single most precious thing you had.
No one got forever. And it was a fucking crime to waste what you were given.
Enough, Qhuinn thought. Enough with the excuses, and the avoidance, and the trying to be someone, anyone else.
Even if he got shanked, even if his precious little ego and his dumb-ass little heart got shattered into a million pieces, it was time to stop the bullshit.
It was time to be a male.
As Blay started to straighten, like a message had been received, Qhuinn thought, That's right, buddy.
Our future has come.