Tristan’s hand stopped moving for a moment. Colby snuck a sideways glance and found Tristan staring at him, looking confused more than anything else.
“You escaped, and that made him look weak in front of Cale,” Colby explained. “And if he knows you—that we’re—I’mhis. No one else’s.”
He was unable to go on, becausehe’ddone this. If not for him, Nico might not be here, and Tristan would be safe.
Matt breathed in slowly. “And he’s just lost his pack, which leaves him… untethered. That’s not great.” He fixed Colby with an assessing stare. “You said he was Cale’s beta. Presumably, that’s an accurate reflection of his capabilities.”
Colby nodded, a lump in his throat.
“Okay.” Matt stood, and Colby fought not to flinch. “That gives me a read on him. I don’t want the two of you anywhere near the perimeter until I tell you otherwise. Jesse’s restricted to the house and barn.” He massaged his temples briefly, as if warding off a headache. “God, he’s going to love that.”
Then he looked at Colby, eyes seeing right to the heart of him, like they always did. Matt’s voice softened, just slightly. “Thank you for telling me, and for keeping Tristan safe out there. I’ll take it from here.”
He’d expected to be thrown out. To be told he wasn’t good enough to be part of this pack. For him to be thanked… He was blindsided.
Tristan gave his hand a squeeze, like he could feel how close Colby was to unraveling, and they slipped quietly out of the kitchen.
Back in Tristan’s room, Colby stood awkwardly just inside the door, not sure what to do with himself.
Tristan pulled the curtains closed, even though it was daylight, and flicked on the bedside lamp. The glow was warm and low, brushing everything in amber light. It felt safe.
“You okay?” Tristan asked.
Colby nodded. “Yeah.”
It wasn’t true, but he didn’t want to talk about it yet. Maybe not at all. The things he’d said in the kitchen had left him raw.
Tristan didn’t push. He just stepped over to the bed and dropped down onto it, folding his legs under him. After a beat, he patted the comforter beside him. “Come sit.”
Colby obeyed, slowly, easing down like the mattress might give way beneath him. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Just the soft creak of the bed when they moved, and the cawing of crows in the trees outside.
His fingers picked at the edge of the comforter, and he realized he was still wound so tightly, his shoulders were up near his ears. He dropped them with a sigh and felt Tristan move beside him.
“I know it’s small,” Tristan said, voice soft, “but this room—it’s always been where I come when things get too much. Here, or the clearing I took you to. Bryce said I could choose my room when I first came here. I think he’d have given me his own room if that had been the one I wanted.” He smiled fondly. “Anyway, the minute I saw this one, I wanted it. It kind of called to me. It feels like mine.” He glanced sideways at Colby. “Likeours.”
Colby swallowed around the lump in his throat and didn’t know what to say. But that was okay. It seemed Tristan didn’t need him to say anything. Colby had been taught love was something to be earned, and suffered for, but Tristan kept showing him something different.
They sat like that for a while, quiet and side by side, not quite touching. The tension in Colby’s chest slowly loosened as he breathed in Tristan’s scent.
His head was just beginning to nod, the weight of the day catching up to him at last, when a soft knock broke the stillness.
Tristan opened the door to find Jason balancing a tray with two plates, a jug, and a bowl of peach cobbler.
“Didn’t figure either of you would want the full pack-dinner experience,” he said. “So Matt said to bring this.”
Colby froze. Was this another, gentler imprisonment, before being thrown out?
Jason caught his eye and gave a half smile. “You’re not in trouble. Far as I can tell, the opposite. Matt said you’re not patrolling tonight, not even with Karl. He also said to tell you there’s been no sign of Nico. Yet.”
“Thank you.” Colby could barely get the words out.
Jason gave a small smile, passed the tray to Tristan, and turned away. Tristan locked the door behind him, like he was sealing them away from the world.
They ate on the bed, side by side, passing the jug of gravy back and forth. Neither said much. Just the quiet clink of silverware, the warm glow of the lamp, and the peace of Tristan’s room. He was right that something about it felt welcoming and safe.
When the plates were empty and the tray shoved aside, Colby didn’t try to pretend he wasn’t tired. He lay back against the pillow, watching the ceiling. Tristan stretched out beside him a few moments later.
They lay for a while without speaking, shoulder to shoulder, not touching but not pulling away either.
