The Jackal (Black Dagger Brotherhood - Prison Camp 1) - Page 23

“Whatever his motivation, you are alive only because of him.”

“Where is he the now?”

“Who knows.”

After a moment, Rhage frowned. “So he sent word unto you somehow?”

“Oh, no. He walked right into the ballroom, lesser blood dripping from him and a black dagger in his grip. His entrance was a scene to remember, I assure you.”

Rhage chuckled. “I can only imagine.”

“The announcement of his presence was the virtuoso violinist’s bow screeching across his strings. All stopped. Two females fainted, and at least three males ducked out of the ballroom and ran. As a public service, I went readily unto him and rerouted him out of the gathering.”

“He has the stare of a demon.”

“And the cold heart of one as well. He is as dangerous as your beast in many ways.”

As they fell into silence, Rhage considered his wakeful hours during the previous day. “My brother, I must explain something unto you.”

“What of it, then?”

“I know you do not respect me—”

Dimly, Rhage was aware of the brother putting both his palms up and leaning away. “Now, Rhage, let us not set upon this—”

“’Tis true. And you are not the only one.” He cleared his throat. “I know there are others in the Brotherhood who feel as you do. You believe me frivolous and distracted by females, unfocused and uncommitted.”

“My brother, again, now is not the time—”

“Now or later, the truth is what it is.”

Rhage wished he could read the nuances of Darius’s expression. Except then he realized it might be best to have them blurry. Disdain and distaste were not going to help him farther unto his speech.

“You are well aware of the curse I live with,” he said, “and this night, when you went unto the shores of the river, you saw anew what it is capable of. I do my best to keep it in check, and the way I manage the beast is by laying with women and females and fighting. If I do not burn my energy off, then it can come out, perhaps at an inopportune time. Perhaps around you all.”

“Truly, my brother, there is a better circumstance for this conversation—”

“Is there? Or will you avoid the awkwardness again? I am unsure that you comprehend the extent of my weakness of will and command when the beast is expressed. I do not know what it does. I cannot see or hear or temper its strength and fury in any fashion. But I must live with the aftermath. If one of you were hurt by it? Then it is my fault and I would have to carry that burden for the rest of my nights. Which would be unbearable. I would never recover.”

He pushed himself upward upon the pillows, and in the back of his mind, he wondered if he had stained all the bedding, not just what was against the headboard.

Of course he had.

“You believe,” he continued, “that I am more committed to the hunt for females than the war. This is not false. I am compelled unto them because I must manage the energy that seethes within me every waking moment and all the ones whilst I sleep as well. I hate the sex. It is a meal I am not hungry for in the slightest. The alternative, however, is something I cannot abide. So please know, I am as focused as ever upon the war. But when I fight our enemy, I am at times with you and the other brothers, or imminently to be in your company. My primary concern is, and always will be, the safety of the Brotherhood. It was a blessing of luck I was alone this eve. However, that is not, and will not, always be the case.”

There was a moment of dense quiet. And then Rhage felt his dagger hand clasped by Darius.

“I did not know,” the other brother murmured. “I had no idea.”

Embarrassed by his revelations, Rhage shrugged. “As I said, it is what it is.”

“Why have you not spoken of this before the now?”

“Let us change the subject—”

“Your honor has been unfairly maligned.”

“I’d rather be known as a whoremonger than a coward.”

“How are you a coward?”

Rhage closed his eyes. “I fear that which is inside me. It terrifies me, for I cannot ensure the safety of those I care most about, and it is mine own self whom I cannot trust. But enough of this. It is done.”

The water rushing in the bathroom beyond seemed to grow louder in the silence.

“I am sorry, my brother,” Darius whispered.

“I should not have said aught.” Yet there was something about Darius that made a male want to have his respect.

Clearing his throat, Rhage tried to consider what else they could discuss as that tub, which was evidently deep as a pond, filled at a snail’s pace.

“I must confess, I am surprised that you attended Jabon’s fête,” Rhage forced himself to comment. “Not readily for his company you have ever been.”

Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood - Prison Camp Fantasy
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