Then, carefully, Colby turned his head. He knew he couldn’t run away any longer from what had happened.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. It didn’t even touch what he wanted to say, how amazing Tristan was. It still caused something in his chest to catch when he thought of how Tristan had held him, had told him he had nothing to be sorry for.
Tristan looked over at him. “For what?”
And the thing was, he meant it. He had no idea that he’d done something extraordinary. That he was someone extraordinary.
“For not judging me,” Colby said gruffly. “You shouldn’t have to have a mate who’s broken.”
“You’re not,” Tristan said, his voice soft. “You’ve been hurt, yeah. But that’s not the same thing.”
Colby huffed out a breath. “I feel like it.”
Tristan rolled to face him fully. “You’ve survived a lot,” he said softly. “And you’re still standing. That’s not broken, Colby. That’s fucking badass.”
Colby had no idea what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. When Tristan reached over and laced their fingers together, he twined his around Tristan’s and held on.
Chapter Thirty-seven
TRISTAN
The kitchen smelled like coffee, cinnamon toast, and eggs. Dave was flipping pancakes at the stove, humming something off-key. Jesse slouched at the table, scrolling on his phone like it had personally insulted him.
Tristan grabbed two mugs and filled them, sliding one across the table to Colby without asking. Colby took it with a quiet nod, their fingers touching for a second longer than necessary.
“Matt and Bryce patrolled last night,” Dave said over his shoulder. “They’re still out there now. No sign of Nico.”
Tristan tried to stay calm, but for both their alpha and beta to be patrolling meant they took the threat very seriously. “Nothing at all?”
Dave shook his head. “Not a hair. I’m starting to wonder if he got spooked when Colby scented him and decided it wasn’t worth it.”
Tristan glanced at Colby, and his flicker of hope died fast. Colby’s expression hadn’t changed—jaw tight, eyes far away. If he didn’t believe Nico was gone, Tristan wasn’t going to argue.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Probably not.”
Jesse snorted. “Guessin’ that means I’m still on house arrest.”
“Unless you’ve got a ring of power to turn you invisible, yep,” Dave agreed.
That earned a faint smile from Jesse.
Colby hadn’t said a word, but the tension rolled off him in waves. Tristan could see it in the way his hand curled too tightly around the mug, and his eyes kept drifting toward the window.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
Colby sipped his coffee, then nodded. “Yeah. Just… think we could go for a walk?”
Tristan hesitated. Go out, with Nico at large? But Colby looked like the walls of the house were closing in on him, and Tristan remembered the brig. A short walk didn’t sound dangerous—it sounded like breathing.
“The clearing’s not far. It’s a long way from the perimeter,” he said. “And with Matt out there as well as the usual patrols, it’ll be fine.”
Dave didn’t look up, but his voice was low. “Be careful, okay?”
Tristan nodded. “We will.”
* * *
The sky was the kind of bright, cloud-scattered blue that felt perfect, as if nothing bad could ever happen. Tristan knew better, now, but the warmth of the sun on his face and the solid presence of Colby beside him made it feel true.
