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“You could shift into your wolf. That might be more comfortable for you. You seem like the type that likes his comforts.”
The way Beast looked at him, Marcus might as well have said he could sleep in the yard.
Marcus threw his arms up. “What did I say wrong?”
Beast stormed toward him, but Marcus refused to back up. “You don’t know shit about me, human.”
“And you don’t know a damn thing about me,” Marcus shot back.
“You’re spoiled rotten,” Beast snarled. “You think everyone should bow to you.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Marcus hadn’t had a good life. Not when he was younger. His dad was a piece of shit who used to beat on him and his mom, and then he ditched them when Marcus was fourteen. Good riddance, but he’d left a ton of debt behind that Marcus’s mom had work her butt off to pay. When Marcus turned sixteen, he’d gotten a job just to help her put food on the table. He couldn’t count how many nights he’d gone hungry, and that was one of many reasons why he’d helped Brooklyn when his friend had run from his relationship.
Because no one should live in fear of a person who was supposed to love them.
Marcus also loved his cousin to death. Not that Elliot knew anything about the abuse. Marcus’s mother was a master at hiding it and drilled it into his head that what went on in their home stayed in their home.
Not that his mom had been a shining example. She had drunk just as much as Marcus’s dad, and at the age of eighteen, Marcus had bounced. He’d put himself through college and made a life for himself.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
Marcus snarled as he shoved at Beast’s chest. “Get the fuck out!”
“Whoa.” Beast grabbed Marcus’s wrists. “Calm down.”
“Screw you.” Marcus yanked his hands free and stormed into the kitchen, snatching the chilled bottle of red wine from the fridge. If Beast wouldn’t stay, Marcus would use the wine to forget about Max.
“I’m sorry if I hit a nerve,” Beast said from the doorway of the kitchen. “I’m not the best when it comes to social interactions.”
“I couldn’t tell,” Marcus snapped, pissed that he couldn’t get the damn cork out of the bottle.
“Goddamn it, Marcus. I’m extending an olive branch.”
Marcus whirled around. “Just because you extend it doesn’t mean I have to accept it.”
Beast walked over, snatched the bottle from Marcus, and twisted the opener until he was able to pull the cork out. When he handed the bottle back, Marcus set it on the counter. Did he really need a drink? Was he turning into his parents?
With a sigh, he turned around. “I’m sorry. Yeah, you touched a nerve.”
He told Beast about his homelife when he was younger, because Marcus didn’t believe in hiding shit like his mom had. “So, no, I’m not spoiled or think people should bow to me. I just enjoy life, and I’m not afraid to show it. But tonight rattled me.”
Beast pulled Marcus into a hug. Sort of. He curled his arms around Marcus, but he didn’t pat his back or apply any pressure. It was the oddest hug Marcus had ever received. “You don’t hug often, do you?”
“I don’t hug at all,” Beast said. “Does it show?”
Marcus hid his smile. “Squeeze just a little.”
Beast squeezed too much.
Marcus grunted as he tried to pull back. “We’ll work on that.” He hugged Beast. “This is how it’s done.”
They stood there saying nothing at all, letting the silence fill the room. Marcus took comfort in Beast’s arms, letting the nightmare slip away.
Finally, Beast cleared his throat and took a step back. “I don’t mind spending the night, though I’d been on assignment.”
“Really? For what?” He poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Beast. The guy sniffed the liquid then set his glass aside. “Not a fan of wine?”
“I’m a whiskey guy,” he said. “I have to follow the new coven leader to find out what he’s up to.”
