A Warm Heart in Winter(62)

Blay’s heart pounded as he searched his mate’s face. In the back of his mind, he answered his own question in ways that only made him feel worse. Frankly, he was shocked that he was even here, surprised that Qhuinn had texted him and asked him to come up, grateful beyond measure that he was even in the same room with the male.

He’d expected to be totally shut out. That was how Qhuinn usually operated.

“No, she didn’t say how he seemed.” Qhuinn took a deep breath. “Other than, as usual, the young made him smile.”

Rhamp took the pitcher and played with it, slamming the water’s surface with the base. His sister found this incredibly entertaining and clapped for him, and as she grinned and flashed her four white teeth, Blay pictured her sitting at the end of Luchas’s hospital bed.

“I know I said it before, but I just . . . I wish I could have helped him.” Qhuinn shook his head. “I didn’t know he’d reached his limit with things. He seemed so fine—I mean, not fine, fine. But the same. And maybe that was the thing. He clearly didn’t feel like he was getting any better and he didn’t want to go on where he was. I really wish I—”

“He left you a note.”

Qhuinn’s head snapped around. “What?”

“In his room.”

“I didn’t see it.”

“The envelope is on the rolling tray, but it’s hard to notice.” Blay put up his palm. “And don’t worry, Manny’s making sure no one goes in there but you. So when you’re ready, go—and if it’s now, I’ll take care of these guys.”

But first, you need to tell him, Blay thought. You need to tell him what you did when you spoke to Luchas.

With a burst of strength, Qhuinn got to his feet. But then he seemed to stall out.

Instead of leaving, he ended up putting the cover down on the toilet and sitting in a way that was angled toward the exit. Like part of him was running down to the training center—and the other part was frozen out of fear of what he would find.

“What if it’s my fault?” he whispered.

Blay cleared his throat. “Actually, I think it was mine.”

Qhuinn rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I saw him the night before the storm, too.”

As his mate looked over sharply, Blay wished he could change places with Layla and be the one who’d brought the kids down. No, wait. Then Layla would have said what he had—and he wouldn’t want her to carry that burden.

“You were in the OR.” Blay was aware of his heart starting to beat even harder, and also that the bathroom, which had previously seemed just fine for temperature, had turned into a sauna. “He was coming from the pool. He stopped and asked how you were doing.”

“You giving him a medical update would hardly freak him out—”

“He didn’t know you’d been elevated to the King’s personal guard.” As Qhuinn stiffened, Blay put his palms out. “I never would have divulged the information, but I wasn’t aware you hadn’t told him. I mean, I just . . . I can understand why you’d keep that to yourself given everything that was going on with him, but . . . I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Qhuinn opened his mouth. Closed it. Then rubbed his thighs. “Yeah, I thought I had mentioned to you to keep it on the down low. I just didn’t want to pile on. You know the glymera. A brother who’s a Brother? That would be hard on anyone, but where Luchas was at? And then add on the personal guard shit?”

“I’m really sorry. It’s killing me.”

“No, listen, it’s okay.” Qhuinn cleared his throat. “Was he . . . bothered by it?”

“I’ll be honest. He was surprised.”

Oh, God, Blay thought. As he did the math, it was possible that he was one of the last people who had interacted with Luchas.

The idea that Qhuinn’s brother might have been an afterthought for everyone in the house broke Blay’s heart. And on some level, he knew that wasn’t true. The male had been a part of the community, and yet . . . everybody had their own lives, lives with mates and young, lives within the war with the Lessening Society and now whatever new threat had come to Caldwell. There had always been injuries and nightly stressors, changes of seasons, problems with cars, supplies that needed reordering, guns to clean, daggers to sharpen.

Life. With all its multi-faceted layers.

And Luchas had had his own. Such as it was.

Had he felt left behind? And why hadn’t someone asked him if that had been true?

“I just want to take it back,” Blay said in a voice that cracked. “I don’t want to have been responsible in any way for . . .”

Qhuinn shook his head. “You aren’t. There are so many reasons without that.”

The words were the right ones—and some part of Qhuinn must have believed them. His voice was steady and not condemning in any way.

But that mismatched stare was elsewhere, not meeting Blay’s eyes.

“I have to go down there.” Qhuinn got to his feet. “I need to see the note.”

“I’ll take care of the kids.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Justlikethat, Qhuinn was gone, the door to the bathroom opening and closing, a chill entering the warm, humid space.