Page 136 of Cowboy Bull's Promise

And still, my fucking brain is being a dick.

Dragging up old ghosts, tearing open old scars that should’ve healed by now—but never quite did.

She shifts against me, soft skin brushing mine, and the second I feel her warm breath on my chest, I exhale for the first time in what feels like hours.

“Wanna tell me?”

Her voice is pure honey, a balm against the ache I didn’t even know was bleeding out of me.

“Just thinking,” I murmur, brushing her hair back from her face. “About the past.”

“I’d like to know about it,” she whispers, placing a kiss right over my heart.

That kiss? It anchors me. Grounds me like only she can.

“Well,” I sigh. “You know I didn’t grow up in a Herd. Not with other Shifters like me.”

Her brows draw together in concern, but she says nothing. Just listens.

“You were the only one?” she finally asks.

I nod.

“Yeah. First shift was when I was twelve. Came out of nowhere. I didn’t even know what was happening. One second, I was some scrawny kid, the next I was a four-legged horned monster crashing through our backyard shed.”

“You must’ve been terrified and lonely,” she breathes, her hand sliding over my side to hold me close.

“I was,” I admit, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But honestly? What came after was worse.”

Her breath stills.

“No, not like that. But up till then, my mom and Greg, my stepdad, they just treated me like an inconvenience. I wasn’t abused, just overlooked. Invisible. It sucked, but I didn’t know better. I thought that was normal.”

I swallow the sour taste in my mouth and keep going.

“After the shift? Greg wouldn’t even look at me. My mom flinched if I got too close. I got moved out to the old tool shed in the backyard permanently. No floor. No insulation. Just a shitty mattress on hard-packed dirt and a single moth-eaten blanket.”

Arliss makes a sound that’s somewhere between a sob and a growl.

“They made you sleep outside?” she asks, voice trembling with fury. “Like you were,” she stops, tries again, “like you were a?—”

“An animal,” I finish for her, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah. That was the point.”

She pulls herself up until she’s half on top of me, her warmth wrapping around my chest, her arms like a shield.

“You’re not an animal, Kian,” she whispers fiercely. “You’re mine.”

Gods. My throat closes up, and my eyes burn.

Fuck. This woman.

“They did something right though,” I manage, trying to steady myself. “When they realized I wasn’t just crazy, they took me to a woman in town. She was called Old Abigail, something of a local legend. People thought she was a Witch. Turns out, she was.”

“She helped you?” Arliss asks, brushing her fingers down my jaw.

“Yeah,” I nod. “She couldn’t fix things, but she helped me understand what I was. She didn’t know much about Bull Shifters cause they’re rare. No steak jokes intended.”

“Ha ha.”

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