Isaac stared at the board again. It was easier than looking Scott in the eye and telling him everything. He scoffed and shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. He drew another card, advancing his figure idly without really thinking about it.
“Heal?” He couldn’t help the irony in that statement. His gaze flickered back up to Scott. “I wasn’t healing—I was in hell.” His tone was suddenly cold behind a stern look fixed on his Alpha. He let it linger one, two, three seconds before he eased and looked back at the colorful board. “Sorry—I…” He hadn’t told Scott anything. Didn’t he at least owe him something? “Words aren’t going to break me, Scott. I’m ready to talk.” He swallowed, wondering if he really was, but somewhere he felt that at least some of it he could bring to surface. “Ask me something so you can stop acting like I might crack at any second.”