His friends had been hovering over him the last thirty hours. He couldn’t even take a piss without one of them going into the bathroom with him. His wound hadn’t gotten any better, but outside the horrible achiness, he hadn’t seemed to be getting any worse. Sloan was more aggressive than ever. No one could touch Colin or even come near him. By dinner the night before, his friends and he had to eat outside with Sloan, because he was staring down the next table of Alphas like he was going to rip their throats out. They weren’t even doing anything, but the fact that they were within ten yards of Colin was enough to send Sloan into a rage. “You need to get a grip, Sloan,” Knox slammed his drink down. “I’m trying,” Sloan growled. “Go try some yoga,” Oren suggested. “Doesn’t fucking work,” Sloan and Knox said at the same time. Why they kept insisting the Alphas take these classes was beyond Colin.
