Rise of the Underdogs: (Book 1) COLTON

Chapter 10

My life felt like it was collapsing around me, fast and without mercy. But I’d stopped caring. Everything that mattered suddenly seemed so far out of reach I couldn’t even lift my head to chase it.

I walked into the house without bothering to grab any clothes — just dragged my naked ass straight through the hallway and into the bathroom. My parents were right there, sitting on the couch. They saw me pass, but they didn’t say a word. Not because they weren’t concerned — I think they knew words wouldn't reach me now.

The mirror was fogged over from my breath and the humidity in the room, but I didn’t look into it. I couldn’t. My reflection wasn’t something I wanted to face. Instead, my hand reached out automatically, searching for something familiar, something sharp. The razor sat at the edge of the sink, gleaming like it had been waiting.

I picked it up.

Dragged it across my arm slowly — not enough to do serious damage, but enough to watch the blood bubble up through the thin cut. Enough to feel something.

A sudden bang rattled the bathroom door.

“Colton? Baby? Are you okay?”

Of course it was my mother. Her voice was soft and panicked, the kind of tone she only used when I’d gone quiet for too long.

I sniffled and kept going, the blade pulling over skin again, then again. Each cut went deeper than the last. Each ache stretched wider across my chest, growing roots beneath my ribs. The healing slowed. The burn lingered.

“Colton! What are you doing?” my father shouted, panic warping the strength in his voice. “Colt, I smell blood, kiddo!”

His fist slammed against the door. The wood cracked and shuddered, but I didn’t flinch.

I’d been depressed for years. No one noticed. I was loud, brash, never backed down. Always the one making noise in every room — but inside, I was wreckage. Silent and ignored. Broken in ways no one wanted to dig through.

Boys being depressed? That’s not a thing, they said. They called it drama. Called it weakness.

Well, guess what. I was the exception and I was tired.

I pulled the blade across my arm one more time. Then slid into the empty tub, curled up against the freezing porcelain like it might hold me together. I sobbed until my throat burned and my chest felt hollow.

“Colton!”

Their voices were starting to blur. My pulse slowed. The pool of red spreading around me shimmered faintly against the white curve of the tub, like something from a dream. My muscles gave out. Fingers loosened. The blade clattered to the floor.

Everything faded — sound, pain, light. Like static underwater.

The last thing I remember was my father’s arms grabbing me — tight, desperate — and his voice breaking as he called for help. I think he said something about Doctor Kade.

Then the dark took me.

******

When I opened my eyes, the harsh sterile light above made me blink. I was tangled up in wires and tubes, the steady beep of monitors tracking every heartbeat like they were counting down something I hadn’t agreed to. The hospital room was still, clinical, the walls washed in pale gray and white. Fluorescent bulbs buzzed gently overhead, casting a dim glow that made everything look washed-out and tired.

The air reeked of antiseptic and something colder — sadness, maybe. Loneliness that settled into the corners like mildew.

Kaden sat slouched in one of those stiff plastic chairs that seemed engineered to make your spine regret existing. His head snapped up the instant the monitor betrayed me with a spike. His face lit up with relief.

“Oh man, am I ever glad you’re okay. You’re okay, right? Do you need the doctor?”

I didn’t answer. The emptiness, that gnawing hollow that had made itself home beneath my ribs, came crashing down again. Quiet. Cold.

I turned away, curling toward the wall, pressing my face into the pillow like maybe I could disappear. The tears came fast and messy, soaking into the fabric like ink bleeding across paper.

“Why are you here?”

His voice cracked just slightly. “Dreson and Leif would be here too, but they had to go on their trip East. Look, man... if I’d known it was that bad, if I’d known you were falling apart, I would’ve come sooner. Please, please don’t ever do something like that again. I missed my best friend.”

I froze.

His what?

Since when was I his best friend?

“Stop lying, Cage,” I mumbled, the words sharp and bitter.

“Incapable of lying, dude,” he muttered, almost too softly to hear. “You were the first wolf from the pack to talk to me on your own. I know you started hanging out with me to get closer to Neil, but you helped stop the bullies. You stood up for me. Just like my brother used to. Colt... it kills me to see you like this. I’m not lying. I consider you my best friend.”

I curled tighter into the pillow, the sobs tearing out of me in helpless waves I couldn’t control. Something in me cracked.

“Colt,” he said again, voice steady and low, like he was afraid to break me any further. “When Neil found out what happened… he felt horrible. Guilty. He… he called Daisy.”

I flipped onto my back, staring at the blinking light overhead, letting the information sink into my chest like a blade.

“I don’t see the bright side to that, kid. She’s not gonna want me now.”

Kaden leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, desperation written into the lines of his face. “Colton, please. I know I’m just a brat hybrid, but I like being your friend. I liked walking home with you. I liked our stupid play fights in the yard. The last time we all laughed together was your birthday party. That was over a month and a half ago.”

I blinked. “A month and a half?”

“You’ve been out for more than two weeks,” he admitted, voice dropping to a whisper.

I wiped my face, sniffling. “You’re not a brat, Kaden.”

He smiled then — that crooked grin that always made his freckles pop across his cheeks like constellations. It was small, but it held the kind of warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“And you, my friend, need some rest. I’m gonna grab the good doctor, okay? Sit tight.”

He slipped out of the room, door clicking shut behind him.

But the warmth he left didn’t go with him. It lingered like magic. Like maybe, just maybe, someone cared.

I didn’t see who came in next, but that scent hit me before the door fully opened.

“Leave me alone, Alpha,” I muttered, my tone hollow.

“I just—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Neil’s footsteps stalled mid-step. The atmosphere shifted, thickening like fog creeping along the ceiling tiles. The tension was palpable.

“I’m sorry, Colt. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you without asking. I just—”

“Stuff your apology, Neil. I don’t want to f*****g hear it.” My voice shattered against the walls like broken glass. “You were supposed to be my friend. You were supposed to back me up… not bury me under the weight.”

I shifted in the bed, the bandage tugging painfully across torn skin. I barely registered the sting.

“Colton, your arm…”

“I don’t f*****g care!” I shouted, the words erupting like lava. “I wanted to die, Neil! Because no matter what I’ve done, it’s never enough! I’m never enough! I could be smart, or funny, or loyal, and it wouldn’t matter—someone always finds a flaw and picks at it until it hurts!”

My voice cracked, breaking apart like waves over jagged rocks. “I don’t want to live without her, Neil…”

The sob came fast, drowning the end of my sentence in salt and grief. Everything fell into a horrible silence.

The door banged open, slamming against the wall with force.

Through blurred tears, I saw Henry storm in, his voice laced with rage. He tore into Neil, words flying sharp and unforgiving. Doctor Kade followed, efficient and quiet, his face carved with concern.

He scooped me up like I weighed nothing — a whisper of a person — and settled me gently into the bed. His hands moved fast, checking vitals, reattaching wires, adjusting the soaked bandage around my arm.

“He’s not healing properly,” he murmured. “This isn’t good. He’s still so young, Henry.”

Neil stood in the corner, his breathing audible and strained.

“Neil,” Henry said, voice low but firm, “has he met his Mate?”

I heard the question. But everything else faded.

The IV clicked. The medication rushed through me — cold and curling like frost in my veins. My heartbeat slowed. The colors dimmed.

And then… nothing.