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Lover Released	By : Hoping4More Category: A through F > Black Dagger Brotherhood Views: 3573 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Black Dagger Brotherhood, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Chapter 13
Dhaynger walked the streets of Caldwell with his body on autopilot, but his senses on high alert. It was their sixth night out on patrol and already it was more exciting than he ever could have imagined. Another Brother had been killed. It seemed like an impossibility, that those charged with protecting their race were being taken out - Dhayn wouldn't have believed it himself if he hadn't been told about by his commander. Now that they were in their third level of Trials, Dhayn and Mel had been briefed, along with Tara and Intrudehr on the recent deaths within their race - deaths that were being kept quiet, especially from the glymera.
The Brother that had been killed the night before was the second in so many weeks, and two WITs had also disappeared. The Brotherhood was reeling from the losses of there kin, but even more so because they had no clue as to who was responsible for the deaths. They had not lost so many of their own since the deaths of Dhayn's parents and Mel's sister over ten years ago. Everyone was on high alert, and for Dhayn his Trials were now about more than proving his worth, he could feel the urge rising up within him, to protect his people - to hunt those who dared harm them.
The cold dark streets were empty with the rain that began to fall in an icy mist from the midnight sky. Dhayn was covered in his leather's but the tiny droplets kept up a cool burn on his cheeks as he peered down alleyways and behind dumpsters.
Mel had been quiet all night, the news had rocked her, but she refused to talk about it no matter how many times Dhayn had tried to get her to open up. She had known Klash - the Brother found stabbed to death in a vacant townhouse across town. He was a distant cousin from the upper class district. Dhayn kept glancing at as they patrolled the streets - her shoulders remained stiff and her face emotionless, but he knew inside she was hurting. He wanted to help her, but he had no idea how.
They walked out from between two commercial buildings and were hit by a wave of frigid wind laced with near-frozen rain. Mel shrunk back from the onslaught and Dhayn stepped up instinctively to pull her into his arms. Thunder roared above them as lightning cracked the sky with a vivid stroke of light. The storm was taking a turn for the worse.
"We should get inside, wait this out for a bit," Dhayn suggested, motioning across the street to a small pub with blacked out windows and neon red open sign. Spotlights shone on the name 'Shenanigans' where it was painted in old English lettering above the door. After another loud clap of thunder Mel nodded and followed Dhayn across the street. Water splashed under their steel-toed boots as they hurried to the door, the rain turning the street into a rippling black river.
Dry, warm air enveloped them as they pushed through the old wooden door. It was a classically styled pub with pool tables and dart boards. A large wooden bar dominated the center of the room, with a handful of patrons claiming stools around it. Dhayn scanned the room for threats as they walked passed the bar to a booth nestled in the far corner of the bar. He counted eight humans including the bartender - a heavyset man with bright red hair and a matching beard. None were worth his notice - average humans having an average night in an average bar. Even with the retro feel, this place would still rank pretty low in Dhayn's book. He liked places with style, classy and modern, with plenty of room for dancing, and great music.
Mel got up from the booth and sauntered over to the bar. Dhayn watched her hips sway as she moved between tables and approached the bartender. His eyes raked over her body from head to heel drinking in the sight of her.Perfection. She leaned forward slightly to order their drink, emphasizing the gentle curve of her ass. He had to reign in his thoughts before they got him into trouble. The trick of not pouncing on Mel the moment they were alone was to stop the hunger before it could take hold. The whole waiting thing was a lot harder than any of them had thought it would be. Dhayn was with Mel every night, and every night he had to fight with his nearly crippling need to touch her, to claim her. His body recognized her as what she was, his mate. He had already claimed her that night on the rooftop, and even though mentally he knew he needed Tara too, his instincts roared at him to take what was his.
Mel turned back toward him, two short glasses in her hands. She gave him a hesitant smile as she made her way back through the empty tables. As she slid into the booth across from him her nostrils flared and she closed her eyes on a shudder.
"That scent makes me want to forget everything, wrap my legs around you and lose myself," she sighed heavily and took a big sip of her rye and ginger.
"Tara," Dhayn reminded them both.
"I know," Mel shook her head, "but it's getting harder every night." She spun her glass in circles on the table in front of her, the three ice cubes clicked and swirled in the amber liquid. She looked up at him, searching his eyes - but for what he didn't know. "Can't you try talking to Stehlth again, or..." Mel drifted off, they had had this conversation too many times to count.
"They have too much on their minds right now, our being able to fuck isn't something they give a shit about," Dhayn grumbled, taking a draw from his glass. The single malt was like warm velvet on his tongue.
"Do you?" Mel bit out. Dhayn looked up and met her angry bronze eyes. Her cherry lips were drawn down into a scowl.
"Do I what?" Dhayn asked, sure she couldn't be accusing him of not caring. He took another slow sip of his whiskey.
"Do you give a shit about us," she motioned between them with the flick of her wrist, " about the three of us being together - or is all about you becoming a Brother?"
"I can't believe you would even ask me that Mel." Dhayn drained his glass and slammed it down on the table. He pushed himself out of the booth and marched out of the bar - clenching his fists as he forced himself to move at a human pace. He shoved the door aside and stepped out into the storm. The icy rain assaulted his bare hands and face, but Dhayn breathed in the frigid air to help cool his temper.
She was supposed to understand. Mel more than anyone knew how much he needed this, needed to hold on to the only thing he had left of his parents. He had promised his sire that he would become a Brother one day. A child's promise yes, but it was the only one he had ever had the chance to make to him. Even beyond that, being a Brother was in his blood, part of what made him who he was - who he was meant to be. Did she want him to lose a part of himself, to sacrifice his dreams to be with her? Could he do it if she did?
Dhayn ducked into the alley running adjacent to the bar, shielding himself from the downpour under a second-story fire escape. Mel and Tara, they were in his blood now too - had always been under his skin, shaping and molding him into the male that he was today. He needed them, and it scared the shit out of him how much he was willing to give up just to be with them. This wasn't a new fight for him, every night his mind battled with his heart in an endless game off tug-of-war, but one day soon something was going to have to give.
...
Mel stared at the naked ice cubes in her glass, her emotions in turmoil. He walked away? I ask him if he gives a shit about me and he fucking walks away! She heard the door slam from the force of the wind and clenched her teeth as the sound rattled her nerves. So she may have been a little insensitive, but seriously, give a girl a break. She was having a rough night, a rough month for fuck's sake. Couldn't he have at least given her a little reassurance? She shimmied her way out of the booth and followed after her pissed of male. He thinks he's pissed? I'll show him pissed.
Mel followed Dhayn's scent down the street and into an alley - her anger keeping the cold at bay. He was leaning up against the dark brick wall, but pushed off from it when she rounded the corner. She marched up to him and shoved both of his shoulders, knocking him back against the wall.
"What the fuck Mel?" He shoved her hands from his shoulders.
"You just leave?" Mel pushed him again, harder this time and D gave a satisfying grunt as his back hit the wall. His mismatched eyes glowed faintly in the dark alley as he stepped forward, towering over her.
"I know you're hurting Mel but don't take it out on me," he said smoothly.
"Don't make this about me," she warned, "I asked a simple question, D." She peered up at him through the haze of rain. The pent up emotions she had been ignoring for weeks were raging out of control.
"No, you asked a stupid question," he replied curtly. Mel reached up to shove him again, but his hands were suddenly wrapped around her wrists.
"You're an ass," she hissed, showing him her fangs. It was easier to be angry then to be hurt. She could use anger, but sadness just made her vulnerable and weak.
"Unless you're planning on using those, I suggest you put them away," D said with a dangerous edge to his voice, tightening his grip on her wrists. Mel felt a growl stir deep in her chest.
"Let go of me now," she warned. Dhayn dropped her wrists and stepped back.
"Mel, you're being irrational."
She swung at him without notice and caught his chin with her right fist, not a serious blow, but a warning. "I asked you if you gave a shit about me and you call me stupid." She swung again, this time with her left, and he deflected the blow easily. "Not to mention storming out and leaving me alone in a bar full of drunk men." She feigned another punch and jabbed his ribs instead. He grunted and straightened up to glare at her. "Doesn't really seem all that irrational to me."
"Oh please you could take all those bastards blindfolded." D's expression softened and he reached up slowly to rest his hands on her shoulders. "I do give a shit, you idiot," he said with a sly grin.
The icy ball that had formed in her throat melted away. Something switched inside of her, and suddenly a blush threatened to overtake her face. She took a deep calming breath, and slapped him across the face.
"Why do you keep hitting me?" he asked with a confused scowl, rubbing his cheek. Mel smiled at him and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm waiting for you to hit me back." She attempted another right hook and was deflected by Dhayn's arm - another left swing and he was shoving her back gently. "Come on D." She charged him, but found herself instantly pinned against the brick wall.
"You are an infuriating female," he whispered in her ear, nipping at the sensitive skin. Mel shivered and fisted her hands in his rain-slicked leather jacket. He dragged his fangs along the side of her neck and sucked the soft hollow above her collarbone. Mel gasped and would have struggled to stay standing if he wasn't bracing her against the wall.
"We should finish our patrol," he mumbled against her neck, sending ripples of pleasure dancing over her skin. A slow burn started to build to build between her legs.
"She said we could..." Mel left the rest unsaid. They both knew what Tara had said - that they could have a relationship without her until she persuaded Thrett to back off - but could they actually do that to her?
"Not tonight Mel." He pressed his wet lips to hers softly. The rain mingled on their skin as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Mel sucked on his bottom lip and bit down gently, purring as the two small punctures wept into her mouth. D pushed her back gently, his eyes blazing brilliant blue and green. "We have a job to do first." His hands tightened briefly on her shoulders before letting her go. "After patrol - with clear heads - we can talk about it, okay?"
Mel licked the faint traces of Dhayn's blood from her lips, savoring the heady feeling of lust coursing through her veins. "If you aren't going to fuck me later, your probably going to have to tie me down." Another shudder overtook her at the mental picture that inspired.
"Clear minds Mel, clear minds." D rested a hand on her cheek. "In the evening you'd regret it."
Mel hated that he was right. Sure she could lose herself in D's arms for the day - and enjoy every minute of it - but when they woke she would fret and worry all night about how Tara would react. She took an icy sobering breath, shaking the wet hair from her face. "Okay, let's go hunt in the rain."
…
Tara wandered the big empty halls of the mansion with the odd feeling that she was lost in her own home. Dhayn and Mel were on patrol and Tru was going out apartment shopping with his brother-in-law. The youngling was due any day now and he wanted to be out of the way before it arrived. Tara didn't know if she liked this new softer side of Tru she was finding out about, it was easier when he was an ass. The boundaries were a whole lot clearer.
She descended the main staircase and wondered to herself if she should work on putting her shields up. She usually let herself relax at home, especially on nights when she was alone, but that night things felt different. The holidays were coming up soon and usually there was a note of anticipation and happiness in the air, but instead the house dripped with fear and loss - the residual emotional imprint left hanging in the air, making it hard for Tara to breath without sighing.
The Brother found murdered three nights before had taken an already horrible situation and made it one hundred times worse. He was days away from his mating ceremony with one of more prominent members of the glymera. The loss racked and scared their people, and left a closely kept secret perilously close to being exposed.
If the glymera found out about the deaths and disappearances before the Brotherhood had any leads on who was behind them, there would be an uproar. There were still those who didn't stand behind the King or his Brothers, and they were always waiting in the shadows to pounce on any mistake - adding fuel to the flame of those that would appose the leader of their race.
Tara sat alone at the long rectangular table for her midnight meal. The doggen that scurried in and out with her food resonated an odd mix of fear and determination. The fear of being afraid was still fear, just a more muted flavor on her senses - she had to give them some measure of respect for trying though.
She was halfway through her meal of orange glazed chicken, when Cynthia's mind brushed lightly over the surface of Tara's thoughts, preceding her small frame in the dining room. She was wearing a beautiful red velvet gown with bell sleeves, and a gold embroidered bodice. Tara couldn't remember a time when she had ever seen Mel's mahmen looking anything less than elegant. Her golden brown hair was braided back in an elaborate up-do. She went through phases of different decades, apparently this month she was channeling the renaissance.
Tara greeted the female fondly as she abandoned her usual seat to claim the one beside Tara. Not wanting to intrude on Cynthia's privacy, she closed her eyes for a moment to close off her thoughts. Tara was getting better at working with her abilities both telepathic and empathic. She was far from a true Empath, thankfully, but the more she honed her skills the stronger she became at her second nature. She had even started training with Thrett to control Mhis. So far all she had managed was a brief illusion of a butterfly, but they hadn't really had the time to work together with the current state of the war.
Cynthia caught her attention with a gentle hand on Tara's shoulder. Tara looked to the female with a smile. Cynthia had a forced smile on her face that had Tara itching to pry away - but she wouldn't cross that line just to settle curiosity - this female deserved better than that, she was the closest Tara had ever had to a mahmen. She straightened her back in her chair, and wished she was wearing something other than the blue velour jumpsuit she had thrown on to come down stairs.
Mel danced along the fine line of pleasing her mahmen and rebelling against her, but Tara had always had the unrelenting urge to impress the female. She loved it when Cynthia would preen over her dress at a ball, or offer to take the girls to an all-night spa for pedicures. To Tara it felt like she wasn't as lost, like she was home. She focused now on the odd posture Cynthia took as she turned her face toward her.
"Mehlisha and I had the strangest conversation last night," she started, spearing a tiny cube of chicken with her fork and placing it delicately on her tongue. She seemed to be waiting for Tara to volunteer her interest.
"What about?" Tara asked with a polite smile of her own.
"She wanted me to talk to Krym and Thrett on your behalf." The condescending look that Cynthia threw her way was one that Tara had never seen directed at her - it shocked her to see those kind eyes focus on her in malice.
"On my behalf? What for?" she asked hesitantly, a sick feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.
"It seems that she has gotten it into her head that you should be able to share her mate." The challenge was unspoken, but clearly there. Tara froze in shock with a bite of asparagus suspended on her fork.
"That's not really the whole story Cynthia," she said, trying to keep her defensiveness out of her tone. The need to make it right, to stay in Cynthia's good books, was a clawing sense of panic inside her. She dropped her fork back down to her plate.
"Sweetheart, I know that you two have always shared everything, but you're not younglings anymore. This needs to stop." Cynthia set her silverware down on the table and faced her. "I know you love my daughter, which is why I can't understand why you would stand in the way of her happiness."
"I'm not standing in the way of anything, they both made their choice, I'm not..." Tara's throat felt thick with emotion. Was she standing the way of their happiness? Was a future where the three of them could be together even a possibility, or was she fooling herself into believing the impossible? "I love them," she said weakly, begging Cynthia to understand.
"Then let them be happy." She placed a gentle hand on Tara's cheek. "There is a male out there for you Tehrrify, but it isn't Dhaynger - he has marked and bonded with Mehlisha now you're the only thing keeping them from their bonding ceremony."
"I don't...I don't know." Tara felt her eyes welling up and turned her face away.
Cynthia dropped her hand to clasp Tara's where is rested on the table. "I know you'll make the right choice, you've always made me proud." There was an edge of begging in Cynthia's words, and somehow that made it all the worse.
"I'm sorry." Tara rose from her seat, looking down at her feet. "I can't give up, not yet."
"Than you're not the female I thought you were." Cynthia's words pierced like claws into her heart. Tara slipped out of the room, silent tears trailing down her cheeks. She had never felt so alone.
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