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Colt stood in the kitchen, his head lowered and his eyes closed. When he’d grabbed Milo’s hand last night and his mate had cried out, he knew something was wrong, even though the guy had tried to lie about it.
After lifting Milo’s shirt last night, Colt had caught a glimpse of the bruises. Enough to know his mate hadn’t sustained those injuries at work. But seeing the true extent of damage in the bright bathroom had violently yanked Colt back in time to his childhood.
Breathing out slowly, he tried to calm the storm raging inside of him—tried to bottle those memories and put them back on the shelf. Colt could almost hear the crack of that belt as it connected with his flesh, could hear his mother verbally ripping him apart as she beat him or stood to the side as she forced Kellen to do her dirty work.
The pain was raw and fresh, as if it had only happened yesterday. His wolf whimpered, wanting the reins so Colt could hide inside himself. Over the centuries, he’d allowed his wolf do just that. But that came with a risk. Letting one’s beast remain in control for long stretches of time damn near guaranteed the chance of going feral. If that happened, a shifter lost their humanity and capability to return to human form.
They would remain in their animal form for the rest of their unnaturally long life. Until recently, the temptation had been appealing, but something had always pulled Colt back to his senses and he’d shifted before it had been too late. But it wasn’t just him anymore. He had something to live for.
A hard, burning lump formed in his throat knowing someone as small and beautiful as Milo had been viciously abused and Colt hadn’t been there to protect him.
Worse, his mate refused to tell him who had done it. That, Colt couldn’t understand. He’d grown up in an era where it was common for parents to physically punish their children. What happened behind closed doors wasn’t anyone’s business, and it was rare for neighbors to get involved.
But that wasn’t the case with Milo. In this era, people went to jail for assault and battery. And that was what this was. His mate had been assaulted and beaten.
“Colt?”
Atlas’s voice penetrated the fog in Colt’s head, bringing him partially back. He had nothing but respect for the human, because Atlas had been the first person who’d treated Colt like he mattered. Someone who hadn’t hurt him or tried to use him. Although Colt knew that Kellen loved him, that love was also tainted with memories of pain.
“I want to apologize for yesterday,” Colt said. “I took my anger out on you, and that was wrong of me. You didn’t deserve it.”
“We all have our bad days, Colt.” When Atlas touched his arm, Colt opened his eyes and gazed at him. “Water under the bridge.”
Colt nodded and cleared his throat as his past began to slowly fade back into the darkness. “I wanted to ask you if I can borrow some of your clothes.”
“Sure, but I don’t think you’ll fit in them,” Atlas said with a serious expression.
A smile pulled at the side of Colt’s mouth. “For Milo.”
“Oh yeah, sure! I’ll grab some jogging pants and a T-shirt for him.” His gaze swept over Colt’s face. “Milo didn’t reject you. I saw you two sleeping on the couch this morning. So why do you look like the weight of the world is crushing your shoulders?”
Colt shook his head. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
If Colt hadn’t shared his own pain with anyone, not even Kellen, he sure as hell wasn’t going to share Milo’s. His mate trusted him, and Colt wasn’t going to do anything to splinter that trust.
“Then I’ll go get those for you.”
While Colt deeply appreciated the way Atlas cared about him, the only person he wanted to talk to right now was Milo.
A few minutes later Atlas returned, handing over a pair of gray pants and a blue T-shirt. “I have to work this afternoon, but if you need to talk, Mason won’t mind me taking a call.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Colt chuckled, even though his heart felt heavy.
Atlas narrowed his eyes. “Just because you found your mate doesn’t mean I’ll stopped fussing over you, asshole. Keep it up and I’ll make you put those shoes back on.”
“Not a chance.” Colt strode away. “Thanks for the clothes, but if you come near me with those shoes, I’m burying them in the backyard.”
“Like a dog with a bone?”
Colt stopped and looked over his shoulder, an eyebrow arched. “Because I was a dickhead to you yesterday, I’ll let you have that shot at me. Besides, I walked right into it.”
He truly cherished his friendship with Atlas. The human had come to mean a lot to him and not just because he was Kellen’s mate. It was also hilarious to act like a brat around Atlas and see him become flustered, as if he was dealing with an irate child. It entertained Colt and allowed Atlas to flex his need to nurture.
The guy was a natural-born caregiver. Those people were like unicorns in Colt’s life, rare as fuck.
“Whoa!” Colt shot forward when he saw that Milo was trying to get out of the tub. “What’re you doing?”
“The water cooled off, and I was tired of sitting in the bathroom by myself.”
