Colby kept very still where Nico had left him, off to the side. He watched how Jeff’s shoulders were tightening under Nico’s stare, how Hooper shifted subtly like he wanted to sink through the ground as long as that didn’t attract attention. Like Colby, they knew the signs—that feel of something in the air, a wire about to snap. Just one wrong word from breaking and causing carnage.
“Need me to do anything else?” Jeff asked. His tone was respectful, as if he hoped that deference might placate Nico.
“Put the word around.”
Jeff nodded. The sharp exhale of relief he made when Nico turned away sounded loud as a gunshot.
Colby didn’t relax. The danger wasn’t past, no matter what Jeff thought. At least, not for Colby. Nico’s good moods scared him more than the bad ones. When Nico was pissed, he could brace for it and ride out the storm, patching up the damage later. But when Nico was like this, all danger and restless energy, looking for new ways to shape the world as he wanted? That was when he got creative. And when Nico got creative, people bled.
He matched Nico’s stride as they crossed the yard. Nico was coiled with energy needing somewhere to go, someplace to let it out. Colby rarely wanted Cale’s presence, but right now, he wished he were here. Cale was the only one who could rein Nico in. If he chose to, which most of the time he didn’t. It suited his purposes to have a beta as ruthless and unpredictable as he was. It kept his pack whipped and scared.
Well, maybe not scared. Only Colby was that weak. It kept them respectful.
“Didn’t think I’d run into one of Urban’s bitches tonight,” Nico said, self-congratulation in his voice.
Colby missed his step. The prisoner was one ofUrban’spack?
“But—” He bit down hard before any more words escaped. Mustn’t sound like he was questioning Nico’s judgment.
Nico was grinning now, loose and expansive. His pleasure at the night’s work was making him talkative, which wasn’t always a good thing. There were too many ways for Colby to trip up if he were expected to reply.
“Yeah, I only went into town for a little recon,” Nico said. “But then the whelp found out we were there. I couldn’t let him gorunning back to Urban and tell him, so I thought I might as well bring him back here as slit his throat there. This way, he can tell us which of them is that fucking silver wolf. If we knew that, it would make snatching him a hell of a lot easier.” He gave a short laugh, suddenly even more pleased with himself. “Least we can rule this one out—Urban would never let something that valuable off pack territory.”
Colby kept his face blank, but his stomach was tying itself in knots. Urban wouldn’t let this slide. Three-to-one odds seemed like a slam dunk but somehow, when they’d gone up against Urban’s pack in an attempt to snatch the silver wolf, they hadn’t been. Urban’s pack had stood their ground and defeated Cale once already. He couldn’t see why this would be any different, especially now Cale was carrying a permanent injury from that fight.
They reached the room they shared, and Nico shoved Colby down onto the mattress on the floor. The perks of being the beta’s bitch, Colby thought distantly. A broken spring pressed into his back, grounding him for an instant before Nico’s weight settled above him.
Nico took his time, using Colby like he had all the time in the world to kill. Colby let his body move, let the rhythm drown everything else out. He kept his gaze fixed on a crack in the ceiling, counting breaths, counting thrusts. Anything but thinking.
But the crack blurred, and defiant hazel eyes stared back at him. He didn’t even know the prisoner’s name. He had no idea why that look wouldn’t leave him alone.
When Nico, finally satisfied, rolled off Colby, he shoved to his feet and pulled his jeans up. Restless, moving as if energy were still humming under his skin.
Then, casually, he reached out and brushed his hand through Colby’s hair. “Stay there,” he said absently, like tying a leash.
It hadn’t always felt this way. There’d been a time when Nico’s possessiveness had made Colby believe he was wanted, that he’d finally belonged somewhere. Now, it felt like a lock he couldn’t find the key to.
Nico left the door open as he vanished into the dark outside. Colby’s gaze drifted after him, wondering. Was he going to the prisoner? That guy was locked up alone, in the cold brig. Bad enough to be waiting for Cale to return, knowing he’d face Cale’s idea of questioning. But if he had to deal with Nico in the meantime?
It would’ve been better if Cale had been here when Nico had dragged him in. Better to get it over with than sit in the dark and imagine all the ways it might go. Colby knew exactly how those long hours stretched, when the future was uncertain except for the promise of pain. He knew what that could do to anyone’s head.
He rolled over, pressed his face into his folded arms, and tried not to think.
TRISTAN
It was the longest night Tristan could remember. Even longer than the night they’d fought Cale, because back then, scared as he’d been, at least Jesse had been beside him. He hadn’t been alone since Bryce and Matt took him in six years ago. He was used to the warmth and comfort of his pack, and now they didn’t even know where he was.
He missed them so badly it hurt, deep in his stomach. He wanted Bryce. If he were here, he’d have torn this place apart already, armed with a dad joke and an endless string of innuendos. Bryce wasn’t quite a dad, not really, but he was the one who’d always shown up. Who’d made sure Tristan had someone in his corner, no matter what.
Tristan had picked himself up off the floor once the footsteps outside the door had faded away and explored the small room he was in. He didn’t know why Nico had taken him. He didn’t know what they could possibly want with him, but he knew it couldn’t be anything good.
Some light from the big industrial lamps outside leaked through chinks in the boarded-up window. Just enough to see there was nothing in the room except a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, which didn’t seem to have a switch anywhere, and a bucket in the corner. The stink of old urine made it clear why it was there and his eyes stung as he backed away and folded himself into the opposite corner of the room. It was one thing to be taken prisoner but another to be humiliated.
He put his head on his knees and listened with all his might. There were two shifters outside, talking in low voices. Other than that, and the constant background generator noise, all was quiet. But he could scent shifters. While he couldn’t tell how many, there were definitely more here than he’d seen.
A thought hit him, and he scrambled to his feet and pressed himself against the boarded-up window in sudden, desperate hope. If there were any breeze out there, he wanted his scent to carry, to reach home, because he knew Bryce wouldn’t rest until he found him.
He also knew that he couldn’t be more than twenty miles from Elk Ridge. He’d lost the beginning of the journey to pain and panic, but it hadn’t taken them long to get here. And it looked like this camp was pretty well established. All this time, Cale’s pack had been sitting on their doorstep, and they hadn’t even known.
