The hottest guy he’d ever seen, and he’d wanted Colby in return. They’d scarcely left the bed in the flea-bitten motel roomfor days, intent on screwing one another’s brains out. God, he’d almost forgotten how good it had been at the start, before Nico realized just how disappointing Colby was. And before Colby started to wonder if love was meant to feel like this—like being judged for crimes he didn’t know he’d committed.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, we—he took me back to his pack, and I liked it. I’d never been part of a pack before, and it felt good.”
“Wait, what? You weren’t in a pack before? That’s like—how? Isn’t that illegal?”
“My dad was career Army, and you know the law. No serving shifter can belong to a pack. You can’t have two chains of command.”
“So messed up,” Tristan muttered. “So damn shortsighted. Like, hey, sure, sign up to defend your country, but also, sorry—you don’t get a pack, or mental health, or like, any sense of belonging ever. Who comes up with this crap?” He huffed in annoyance. “Sorry. I get ranty about this stuff. So, Nico took you to—what, Cale’s pack?”
Colby nodded. “I didn’t—I know I was stupid, but I didn’t understand what they were like. I think Nico kept me away at first from the stuff they were into, and it never occurred to me to wonder why none of them had jobs, and why we kept moving around. Or where the money came from.” Stupid wasn’t a strong enough word for Colby.
“Or maybe I just didn’t want to know,” he confessed painfully. “I was happy, and it felt like I belonged somewhere again.” After the Army had chewed him up and spat him out, leaving him unable to go back to his parents who’d see him as a failure. Unlike Colby, his dad was still serving.
“I get it,” Tristan said softly. “When I first came here, it was scary because it was different, but even so, it felt likehome. AndI needed that. I mean, my mom’s part of a pack, but she’s kind of on the fringes. They disapprove of her because she’s—well, because of things she’s done, and I think they suffer her rather than welcome her, if you know what I mean. And that carried over to me, I guess. So joining a pack where I’mwanted—yeah, I understand how it must have felt. At least, I think I do, not saying I do, because—okay, I’m going to shut up now because I talk too much. Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Colby shook his head, startled by the apology. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had apologized to him. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time someone hadlistenedto him.
“So, when did you start to realize what they were doing?” It could have been an accusation, but from Tristan, it sounded more like an encouraging prompt to get him talking again.
“I don’t know, exactly. And it wasn’t like it was a big revelation, more a series of little things. When it all finally came together, somehow it wasn’t a surprise, finding out they were criminals.” Such an inoffensive word for the pack’s reign of terror over anyone who crossed them.
“But it started before then. When Nico began to change.” Colby hesitated. “He got frustrated with me more often. Because I kept making mistakes,” he added quickly, not wanting Tristan to blame Nico when it had been Colby who failed. “And I guess I finally realized… I didn’t want to be there anymore.” He sucked in a breath, because that day still lived under his skin.
It wasn’t Nico’s fault. Not really. It was Colby’s, for not being strong enough. For not being smarter. For not knowing how to leave.
He’d made one of his stupidest mistakes and told Nico he was leaving. The beating that followed was brutal, but what came after had struck even deeper.
“You can’t go,” Nico had said, voice lowand raw. “I love you.”
So Colby stayed. If Nico still loved him, maybe they could get back to what they’d had in the beginning. He believed Nico when he said all Colby had to do was stop screwing up. Stop making the mistakes that forced Nico, as pack beta, to discipline him. Nico was under pressure, carrying out Cale’s orders.
He kept telling himself things would get better, but the longer he stayed, the more something in him clawed for escape. It started as restlessness, a flicker of unease, but it grew fast. Twisting tight inside his chest. Like a warning, or a scream. He needed out. Needed air.
That was when he found out the bonds holding him weren’t just emotional. No one left Cale’s pack. Not alive. Disloyalty was punished swiftly and with extreme prejudice.
“Nico wouldn’t let me leave.” He skipped over it as quickly as he could. “And I was never alone. Even when Nico wasn’t around, some of the pack always were. I couldn’t get away without someone noticing and stopping me.”
Because he’d tried. Only once. Nico’s response had been enough to ensure he never even considered it again. Not until Tristan. The need to save him, that deep, urgent instinct, had overridden everything, even the fear he’d learned at Nico’s hands.
Tristan didn’t say anything at first. He just sat there, quiet beside him, and when he finally spoke, his words sounded like he meant them. “I don’t get it.”
Not really surprising. No one would, until they realized how useless Colby was, how many ways he kept finding to fuck up.
Tristan was shaking his head, and Colby couldn’t evenlookat him. He didn’t want to see his disgust.
“You went through all that, and you still got me out? You didn’t even hesitate. That’s… I mean, I don’t even know what that is. Yeah, I do—that’s freaking heroic, is what it is.”
Colby jolted, waiting for the punchline. But there was no laughter, no twisting of the words. He dared a sideways glance at Tristan, and his face… It was as if he’d meant every word he said.
It felt wrong, like Tristan hadn’t seen the whole of him yet. But he couldn’t find any words to explain that, because Tristan shifted slightly beside him. Fingertips gently brushed against his hand.
Colby stilled, bracing for what came next. But the touch didn’t change. It stayed soft, not gripping or pulling. It almost felt like a question, without words.
He realized, slowly, that if he moved away, Tristan would let him. That hecouldmove away.
His heart was beating too fast, and there was a strange ache rising up behind his ribs—something like grief, maybe, or hope, both tangled so tight he couldn’t tell them apart.
He didn’t look at Tristan. He just closed his eyes and let that gentle touch seep into his skin, quiet and real. Like a promise.
