“Of course I don’t!”
“Good. Tell him that. I’ll deal with Mom and arrange the funeral while you and your mates take care of your omega.” Marcus turned to Ryker, and the two alphas nodded at each other.
“Come on,” Ryker said, walking into the house. Steve followed, August and Ryker walking shoulder-to-shoulder in front of him. He glanced over his shoulder before the door closed, just in time to catch Marcus’s face crumple.
Swallowing a lump, his legs heavy with dread, Steve followed his mates up to the stairs and to the front door of his apartment.
His mother was in the hallway outside his door, carrying two buckets, a mop, and several rags, the scent of blood clinging to her like she’d just come back from the butcher shed.
Steve froze, staring at her with a muted sense of disbelief.
“I cleaned up the blood and moved the body,” she said, putting one of the buckets down and wiping her brow. “If anyone comments on the smell, just tell them that Marcus and your dad had a fight in your kitchen. No one will question it given the way those two have been going at it lately.”
Steve clenched his jaw. His mother looked tired, but there was a satisfaction in the set of her shoulders that made him want to scream.
Ryker nodded, and without saying anything, he walked into the apartment. Steve and August followed.
As they stood in the hallway, the scent of blood coming from inside the apartment was muted. If Steve hadn’t known any better, the excuse that his father had been in a fight would have seemed like a perfectly logical explanation for the coppery odor.
“He’s in the bedroom,” Ryker said, stopping at the end of the hall. “August, do you want to go first?”
“Me?” August asked, looking surprised. “Why?”
“You’re a doctor,” Ryker said, clenching his fists and visibly forcing himself to be calm. “You know how to deal with… stuff like this.”
August closed his eyes and nodded. “Of course. I’ll go first.”
Ryker stepped aside, letting August take the lead into the apartment. The scent of blood got thicker as they approached the living room, and Steve held his breath so that he wouldn’t throw up.
When they reached the bedroom door, August knocked and waited quietly.
“Hello?” Dylan called from inside the room, his voice hoarse like he’d been crying.
“It’s us,” August said, his voice gentle. “Can we come in?”
There was a pause, and Steve held his breath.
“Okay,” Dylan replied.
August opened the door and stepped into the bedroom, Ryker and Steve following on his heels.
Dylan was sitting at the end of the bed, perched precariously on the edge of the mattress. He was hugging a pillow over his lap.
The right side of his neck was marred by a hideous wound, scabbed over puncture wounds making a perfect indent of Steve’s father’s mouth when he was in his alpha shift.
It was the most horrifying thing Steve had ever seen, and it took everything he had not to burst into tears.
This was real. His dad had attacked his omega.
“Hey,” August said, walking forward and crouching down in front of Dylan. He took the pillow out of his arms and put it down on the bed next to him. “You’ve had a pretty bad day, huh?”
Dylan nodded, tears gathering in his eyes.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” August asked, nodding at the bite on Dylan’s neck.
“I bumped my head,” Dylan said, lifting his hand to point at the back of his skull. “But that’s it.”
“Do you remember if you passed out?”
