“I said yes without checking with you first,” Colby admitted. “I didn’t mean to mess things up.” He braced, waiting for Tristan’s disappointment, for the moment he realized how fuckingstupidColby was.
Tristan reached over and covered Colby’s hand with his own. “You don’t need to check with me before making a decision. I mean, not unless it’s like going to Mars or only speaking German or deciding to farm alligators. Then, yeah, a heads up would be great.”
Colby looked down at their hands. He knew, the same way he knew sunlight was warm and water was wet, that Tristan was nothing like Nico. But he didn’t know how to rewire the instincts that had been slowly and painfully carved into his bones.
He nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. If he opened his mouth, he wasn’t sure what would come out. Something stupid, probably.
Tristan squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you’re going with Karl,” he said simply. “You deserve this.”
Colby swallowed hard. Maybe one day he’d be brave enough to tell Tristan what it cost, sometimes, just to make a choice. And maybe, when that day came, Tristan would still look at him the same way.
* * *
He was out on the back porch at ten before seven.
“I’ll save you some dinner,” Tristan said at the back door, then paused. “Unless Jesse finds it first. In that case, all bets are off.”
Colby’s heart was lighter as Tristan shut the door behind him—doubtless what Tristan had been going for. He was trying not to be nervous about the upcoming patrol. Before Nico, he’d been confident in his skills. Now, they were rusty, and he had noidea if they were up to Karl’s standards, but he was almost looking forward to finding out. Todoingsomething,beingsomething other than the useless shifter he’d become who was afraid of his own shadow.
Karl emerged from the gloom, silently enough that Colby didn’t hear him until he was already there. He nodded at Colby and began to strip, prior to shifting.
“Stay twenty-five yards behind, unless you need to get my attention,” he said, and as Colby was taking off his borrowed jeans, he shifted. The sense of threat he exuded easy as breathing was even more pronounced in wolf form. Huge, dark, and lithe, he was an apex predator.
Colby shifted and loped after Karl, careful to keep a very precise twenty-five yards behind him, to his left. Close enough to watch him, to monitor the way he was constantly scanning his surroundings, but far enough away to observe everything around them. Colby made mental notes—Karl’s chosen paths, his pace, the way he shifted direction without a sound.
At one point, Karl stopped to look into the rapidly darkening woods, one paw raised, body coiled like a spring. Colby mirrored him, his heart in his throat, not understanding what threat he’d detected. Instants later, something crashed through the undergrowth ahead of them, and Colby breathed out in relief when the culprits turned out to be two squirrels, squabbling indignantly.
Karl moved on and broke into a run. Colby followed. They ran under the moon, paws thudding softly against the packed earth, breath rising in the crisp air. Karl’s dark shape remained just ahead, a ghost, silent and assured. Colby kept pace, reading the terrain, the scent trails, the subtle flicks of Karl’s ears that indicated shift in attention or direction. They looped the far ridge, then circled the western perimeter.
Colby’s hackles lifted as something shifted on the breeze. He slowed as he sniffed, and then he stilled.
Karl stopped two strides later, turned and padded back. They stood shoulder to shoulder, testing the air. Something unfamiliar. Not fresh, but recent enough to make Colby’s pulse beat louder in his ears. He lowered his head, sniffed the base of a sapling, then looked up at Karl as he recognized the scent. Elk. Not a threat.
Karl growled once in acknowledgment and gave a barely-there tail flick that Colby hoped desperately signaled approval. Or at least, not annoyance for holding them up for a damn elk.
They ran on, faster now, and Colby began to learn the shape of this place, the sheer size of its sprawling land. Enough space for a much larger pack, and for the first time, he wondered why Matt’s pack was so small. And why there were no women. Cale hadn’t let women join his pack, saying they caused more trouble than they were worth. Colby couldn’t imagine that was Matt’s attitude. He must remember to ask Tristan, he thought, before bringing his attention back sharply to where they were. Filtering the sounds and scents, learning the route, watching Karl and keeping a steady distance from him, all at the same time.
By the time they returned to the house, the moon was high. He thought his part in the patrol was over, but he waited until Karl shifted before following his example, in case he’d gotten it wrong.
Karl shook out his limbs and subjected Colby to a long, steady look.
“You pick up on things fast,” he said, and Colby glanced away, not wanting to let Karl see just how much that meant to him.
“Same time tomorrow?” Karl asked, as casually as if he were asking Colby to pass the salt.
Colby sucked in a delighted breath. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Karl didn’t respond—just nodded once, then shifted again before loping away, confident and assured.
Colby stood there a moment longer. The wolf inside him, who for so long had been silenced and distant, was strong, sure, and present. He tipped his head back, letting the moonlight and the unfamiliar feeling of happiness soak into his bones.
Chapter Thirty-two
TRISTAN
The back door creaked open, and Tristan felt a rush of relief. He stayed where he was at the table, casual as anything while he pretended to work on his laptop, trying to look as if he hadn’t spent the last thirty minutes fighting off the irrational anxiety that something might have gone wrong. Karl was kind, in his way, but the pack’s safety was as serious as a blood oath to him, and his standards were almost impossible to meet, though they all tried.
He’dhadto let Colby go with Karl, no matter how it turned out. If he tried all the time to stop Colby falling, how would Colby ever learn to walk by himself again? Those words from Bryce, about trying to be Colby’s world, had stung because they were true. He’d been doing so from love, but also from fear.
