Chapter Six
TRISTAN
Tristan blinked at Colby. He thought the buzzing in his head and the longing in his heart must have led him to mistake his words. As Colby’s face swam into focus, his breath caught. The guy was a mess—there was a long cut above his left eye, his lip was split, and a dark bruise was blossoming on his cheekbone.
“I didn’t tell him,” he said quickly, needing Colby to know he hadn’t betrayed him. “I think he caught your scent.”
Colby’s brows drew together in confusion, as if he had no idea what Tristan was talking about.
“Your face.” Tristan put his hand to his own eye in illustration of what he meant. “He hurt you because you brought me food, didn’t he?”
“Not yet,” Colby said, and shivered. “That one’s next.”
“Come with me.” Tristan blurted it. The bleakness, the resignation in those gray eyes hooked into something deep inside him, and the words spilled out. He hadn’t planned to say it, hadn’t eventhought it. The words came from somewhere older and deeper than his mind.
Colby was shaking his head before Tristan had finished speaking. “I can’t.”
“Why?Look at you, what he’s done to you. For God’s sake, come with me.”
“Where would I go?” His voice was dead, defeated, and it made Tristan all the more determined.
“Anywhere that isn’t here.”
“I can’t—”
“If you don’t come with me, I’m not going.”
He didn’t mean it—ohGod, he didn’t mean it—but hopefully Colby wouldn’t know that. Tristan couldn’t leave him here, never knowing what had happened to him but fearing the worst.
As he stared at Colby, willing him to stop going in and out of focus, he saw something change in those gray eyes. There was a spark of life, of hope. Fear, too, but that was okay, because Tristan wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and whimper at the thought of trying to sneak out under the noses of Cale’s pack.
Colby’s shoulders squared. “Don’t shift till we’re over the fence,” he said, and Tristan could have laughed with relief because he didn’t have to do this alone. “They’re all by the fire, I think, but we can’t count on it. Come here.”
It took Tristan a moment to process Colby’s unexpected words, then he stepped forward, only to be dragged into Colby’s hold. He tried to pull away, a shiver running down his spine because Colby reeked of Nico.
Colby tensed, catching his hesitation, and for a moment his grip gentled, an apology offered in touch.
And then Tristan caught a scent of something under Nico’s stench, something soft and warm, like young cedar. Quiet and steady, wrapping around him, sinking beneath his skin. It felt likebelonging and safety, like home, and he melted against Colby’s solid body.
“We have to cover your scent with mine,” Colby said, sweeping his hands over Tristan’s arms, skin to skin.
Colby’s touch hit him like static, bright and startling. Tristan’s breath caught. It wasn’t just comfort—it was magnetic. Some deep, wild part of him leaned into it, as if his bones knew this man. At the same time, a jolt of fear punched through him, his heart kicking like it wanted to bolt, even as his body leaned closer. It didn’t make sense. None of it did.
He buried his face in Colby’s neck without thinking, desperate to breathe him in. Something primal twisted in him—need or memory, he couldn’t tell. And threading through it all was fear, sharp and cold.
Colby yanked back. He too was breathing unevenly, but he looked panicked.
“Don’t,” he said, desperation in his voice. “It’s going to be bad enough if we’re caught. If Nico thinks—” He closed his eyes and visibly fought down his fear. “Okay,” he said, his voice suddenly firm. “Stay behind me, and only follow if I tell you it’s safe. And for the love of God, bequiet.”
Tristan licked his lips nervously and nodded.
Colby gestured at him to stay put before he slid through the doorway. Tristan fought every instinct that was telling him to run, and he waited. His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure the shifters around the fire would hear it, but he had to wait for Colby.
He was trembling with tension when Colby returned, signaling with a jerk of his head for Tristan to go with him.
Tristan obediently followed him along the empty corridor to where a door was ajar at the back of the building. Colby paused, scenting the air, and when it seemed he could detect no one there, he led the way out into the half dark of the evening.
Tristan followed him, his heart in his throat. They were committed now. There could be no turning back.
