His Apprehensive Mate - Brea Alepou

Warning and Triggers

This book contains graphic scenes of violence, child abuse, past mental and physical abuse. Please continue with caution and the characters do overcomer their trials.

The sheets burned against his skin; every part of Morgan screamed in agony. Death was a sweet wish he would never be granted. A lone tear slid from his puffy, swollen eyes. His healing was not moving fast enough, but that was the story of Morgan’s life. Everything about him had always been lacking and always would be.

Warm hands lightly caressed his face, and Morgan flinched from the too-soft touch. No one ever touched him like that. It was a trap—make him believe he was safe only to hurt him again. Morgan’s instincts screamed for him to run and get away far.

His wolf let out a faint whimper, too damaged to be of any help. Morgan’s throat burned with an intensity of too many screams pulled from it. He swallowed against his scratchy throat as he tried to climb his way to full awareness. He didn’t have the luxury to relax, even near death.

Kenny’s face appeared in his mind, and his chest hurt with the thought. There was one man who cared for him, who looked at Morgan as if he hung the moon and stars. Morgan’s body trembled as he tried to sit up, but hands held him down, trapping him. A whimper was pulled from him as pain radiated from his shoulders, nearly knocking him back unconscious.

A deep growl pierced the room, stilling him instantly, the rush of his blood ever present as fear coursed through his body, chilling him to the bone. Those warm, soothing hands were back, and Morgan whimpered as he fought his eyes to open.

“It’s okay, no one will hurt you,” came a deep voice that Morgan recognized. It had the instant effect of calming Morgan; it gave him security. Kenny would never let anything happen to him. Even in Morgan’s weakened state, he knew that.

He lay in a bed, not on the cold, unforgiving ground. The smell of his own blood and dirt no longer clogged his nose. It smelled of Kenny and the pride house he wished he’d stayed at.

Memories flooded back to him all at once. They had escaped. He was at the Bliss Pride where his fated mate was. He was safe. Morgan’s body trembled as relief and exhaustion overtook him. He cracked open his eyes, trying to see out of them. The temporary fog scared him. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. He glanced around the room a bit, but keeping his eyes open hurt. He caught sight of the one man who made the pain worth it. Morgan sucked in a ragged breath, swiping his tongue against cracked, dry lips.

“Ken-ny?” he asked on a whisper, afraid that it had been a trick on his mind.

“I’m here,” Kenny said.

The soft caress against Morgan’s bruised face had him relaxing once more. He tried to move closer to the gentle touches, now that he knew he was safe. But his body wasn’t having any of that. Kenny wouldn’t hurt him. Kenny was the genuine thing, his true mate, the one person Fate had deemed would be with Morgan.

“H-how lo-ng.” Morgan coughed a few times.

“You’ve been asleep for only a few hours. You need more rest,” another voice said. It took Morgan’s brain far too long to realize it was Logan.

“You woke up before, but you’ve been asleep since,” Kenny said.

So earlier hadn’t been a dream?

He’d truly been in his mate’s arms. Had Kenny said he loved him? And more important, had Morgan confessed his love? Morgan wanted to ask more than ever if those words were true, but fear clogged his throat, not letting the words leave him.

Morgan’s body shuddered. Muscles were damaged, and he ached in places he didn’t know could hurt. But Morgan could block out pain, as he had since a young age. He didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on his pain, not when he was their punching bag. Morgan forced himself to sit up, even with Kenny hovering and telling him to stay lying down.

“Damn it, do you want to die that badly?” Logan said.

Morgan turned toward where Logan’s voice was coming from, ready to answer truthfully. He’d wanted it so badly before. Before he met Kenny, before he knew what being held felt like, before he knew what family meant, before he knew love. God, Morgan could count on his fingers and toes how often he’d