Tender Love [Bxb] Chapter 11

Calvin’s POV

I smelled my mates blood when I was pulling into my driveway. It was a small amount, but any amount of blood scares me. Making a rash decision to shift and run to him, I jump out of the car in a hurry and change into my wolf.

I’ve never fully seen myself, only in water reflections. I have brown surrounding my ears and face, and my tail is also brown. The rest of me is a dark black, and I have yellow eyes that pierce your soul.

I run until I smell Miles ahead, and stalk him through the trees. He must’ve seen my eyes that glow a rich yellow in the dark. I walk towards him, slowly as not to scare him. when I’m on the edge of the tree line, I stop. Miles stares at me with wonder in his eyes, then tilts his head in a puppy like manner. I tilt my head right back, trying to show him I won’t harm him.

His eyes grow unfocused and uncaring as he continues to walk forwards. I notice a bruise forming on his eye, and blood trickling down from his lip. That must be what I smelled. What happened to him?

When he gets to the long dirt road, I realize he’s heading for my house. I quickly run back to the pack house, getting dressed and waiting at the door for him to knock.

He knocks and I open the door a little too quickly. Oops. Not caring that I gave myself away, I take him all in. His sagging form, looking absolutely done with life. His eyes are still unfocused, staring off into space in one direction. He’s clutching his stomach, as if it pains him to walk.

I watch as his tongue licks his bottom lip, spreading the blood around. Getting any dirty thoughts out of my head, I ask, “Miles, are you okay?”

He doesn’t respond, he just stands there blankly. He seems to be desensitized to everything, like he’s trying to block everything out.

I reach over to put my hand on his shoulder when I see his eyes fly to mine, and his body flinch back. He looks at me for a second, regret filling his eyes, then looks away.

I’m a little hurt, but I don’t know what he’s just been through.

I slowly and gently grab his hand, being happy when he doesn’t flinch away from my touch. I drag him along, while he’s stumbling around, unfocused.

When it comes to the stairs I let him know, “We have to go up a few flights of stairs now, watch your step.”

He barely listens, not paying attention. I want him to feel independent and in control of the situation, so I didn’t pick him up like I wanted to. After trauma, it’s important to feel in control of yourself.

After going up the flights of stairs, Miles missing a few steps every once in a while, we reach the Alpha Suite.

Walking in after entering the passcode, I walk Miles to my bedroom. I sit him on the bed, and go to grab my first aid kit.

Once I’m back with the medical supplies, I ask, “Where does it hurt?” Wondering if there are any other injuries, I ask him to be safe.

He just shakes his head, seeming to be lost in his thoughts. He keeps shaking his head, until tears are falling out of his eyes. He brings his hands up to his temples, and before I can stop him, he repeatedly starts hitting himself on the head.

“So,” hit, “stupid,” hit, “Why,” hit, “am I,” hit, “alive?” Soon he starts sobbing, asking himself, “Why am I alive?” softly.

I restrain his arms by his side and pull him into my chest, wanting him to stop hurting himself. Hugging his arms together with one hand, I rub his back soothingly with the other.

Once he stops sobbing, I grab his face with my hands and wait for him to look into my eyes. We make I contact, and I say, “Miles, I don’t know what happen, but you have to know how much you mean to me. If you weren’t alive, I’d have no reason to live. I need you, just as much as you need me. We can get through this together.” Honesty is dripping from my voice, urging him to believe me.

When he nods his head, I want to jump up and down to celebrate. He’s going to let me be there for him.

Without another word, I grab the first aid kit and get to work. I disinfect his bleeding lip, trying to ignore all the thoughts that popped into my head about kissing those soft, pink lips.

I ask softly, “Is it okay if I lift up your shirt?” Wanting his approval before doing it. When he nods, I slowly lift his shirt until I can see his stomach. There are large bruises forming, the purple and green colored marks shining on his pale skin.

I choke back a sob as I question, “Who did this to you?” 

He looks me in the eyes, his gaze shining with pain and rage, “My father.”

That’s all Miles had to say to make me pull my hyper little mate right into my arms.