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 Page 322
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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 basstard?" 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 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.
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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 circumstance 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