Page 23 of The Bull's Head

“No, it’s okay. Yeah, it hurt a lot when I was growing up, but I had plans, and they were going to get me out on my own, you know? Then we got taken, and all those dreams went to hell.”

Uncertain what to say, Teddy asked, “Do you want to get some food?”

Atop him, Callum shuddered. “It’s going to sound awful, especially after finding out my brother died, but I’m starving.” He made to sit up, but Teddy held him in place. Callum fell back onto the bed, his strength seeming to desert him. “Maybe in a few minutes.”

Teddy held fast, enjoying the feeling of protecting someone once again. “Okay, we’ll wait. I just want to be sure you’re okay.”

His eyes crinkled. “No, not really. I’m lost, adrift. I’ve got no idea what I should do. I—what’s the date?”

“March twenty-fourth,” Teddy answered, then added the year, because he had no idea what Callum knew.

His eyes widened. “You mean I missed eight birthdays?” He gave a rueful chuckle. “It sucks, especially since I had no idea until right now, how old I was. Happy birthday to me, I guess. At least I missed out on acne, awkward dating, and things like that, I suppose.”

A pit formed in Teddy’s stomach. As bad as things had been for him and Ivan, it wasn’t eight lost years that he could never get back.

“Callum, I—” He had no idea what to do or say that would help. Teddy hated that Callum needed something, and he couldn’t provide it. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no. I’m not upset with you. I mean, I was angry. I still am. None of it has to do with you, though. I hate Hyde, and every damned person who worked in this place.” He nudged Teddy. “How’s the cut?”

It had already become nothing but a memory. Teddy and Ivan tended to heal faster than most shifters they knew, even the First. Ivan said it was because of their strength, and Teddy could never find a way to argue it. Their wounds became nothing more than mottled pink skin within hours of being hurt, then faded as though they were never there. “What cut?”

When Callum burrowed in deeper, Teddy sighed.

“Am I hurting you?” Callum asked.

“No. It’s just….” He grinned. “When I was a kid, my family used to huddle together as bears to keep us warm. It made it easier on our bills, because we didn’t need the heat, so we saved a lot of money. It was one of the reasons Ivan and I left. We wanted a life where we didn’t have to pinch pennies, where going out and grabbing food wasn’t a blaspheme. Now we have money, and I still find that cuddling with a friend is a balm to me.”

They were quiet for several minutes. Teddy lay there, enjoying the feeling of having someone with him. He sniffed Callum’s hair as quietly as he could, but of course that didn’t work out too well.

“Are you smelling me? Do I stink?”

Far from it. An odd combination of lavender and grapefruit tickled Teddy’s nose. He hadn’t noticed it before, but then again, he had been doing his best to not breathe as he washed Callum down. “No, you smell fine. Good, in fact.”

That seemed to make Callum happy. “I know bears have one of the best senses of smell of all shifters, so I didn’t want to offend you.”

“No, you’re definitely not offending me,” Teddy replied, tightening his grip.

His bear demanded to be let out. At first, Teddy thought it was angry over the fight, but that wasn’t it. There was anger there, yes, but it wasn’t directed at Callum. His bear seemed to sense… danger, and it wanted to stand between Callum and whatever was out there in the darkness.

Even though he had no desire to be a bodyguard anymore, Teddy knew he’d give his life to protect Callum.

And that kind of startled him.

Teddy was far more forgiving than anyone else Callum had ever met. He had gored the bear with his horn, after all. Still, it seemed Teddy wasn’t angry, and the fact that the two of them lay together, with Teddy holding tight, was more than welcome.

Callum tried to figure out what he should do. He couldn’t stay in this place, that was certain. Even if it had been sanitized from top to bottom, the labs had originally been filled with terror and fear, and it rippled through Callum.

How strange was it, though? His bull, who’d been tortured and beaten, felt at peace right now. Probably because of Teddy’s strength. Callum had never known anyone, not even Cooper, who was as powerful as Teddy. He grinned to himself, because when he’d caught Teddy sniffing him, he was grateful Teddy hadn’t noticed Callum doing the same thing.

It was weird. In all his years—well, at least until he was taken—Callum had never once noticed anyone who smelled like a bed of wildflowers. When he was in school, the smell of perspiration and perfumes had Callum wrinkling his nose, but he had to admit, Teddy’s sweat was… warm and sweet. In fact, it was quickly becoming something Callum would say he was addicted to.

His thoughts jolted to a stop. His brother was dead, and here he was, lying in bed with a bear shifter, thinking about the man’s sweat? What the hell was wrong with him?

“Callum?”

“Hm?”

“You hungry?”

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