Colby dragged out a chair and sat, before his unsteady legs betrayed him. He wasn’t afraid, not anymore, but he was shaking, and he didn’t know why.
“He showed up, and Bryce ran him off.” His voice felt like gravel in his throat. “He’s gone. For now.” Because in that clearing, it had become sickeningly clear that Nico was never going to stop coming for him.
As if that weren’t enough, he was going to have to deal with the shame that Bryce had seen the depth of his fear.
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Anyone hurt?”
Colby shook his head. He had to get this out, tell Matt everything, and then maybe he could find a corner where he could curl up and never have to move again.
“He tried to get me to go with him. Said if I brought him the silver wolf, he’d—he wouldn’t make—Tristan.”
His voice broke. He couldn’t say it. To think of Tristan at Nico’s mercy… New shudders ripped through him, and he had to wrap his arms around himself to stop from flying apart.
Tristan reached for him, his hand on his back, steady and sure.
Matt looked between them, jaw tight. “So he’s still after Jesse.” Something flickered over his face. “And even though he’s been chased off for now, heknowswe have an Argent here.”
“Shit, Matt,” Bryce said. “I’m sorry—I didn’tthink.I just wanted to get to my kid, make sure he was okay, and—”
“I get it,” Matt said. “But the problem remains. If he tells someone…”
A chair scraped.
Colby turned to see Karl pushing back from the table, his expression unreadable. He didn’t say anything. He just slipped out the back door.
Tristan frowned. “Where’s he going?”
Matt didn’t answer right away. Then he said, “To tie up a loose end.”
Colby stared at the door Karl had gone through, a knot tightening in his chest. Whatever Karl was going to do, he hoped it would be enough.
He seemed to lose time, too exhausted to follow Bryce and Matt’s conversation. Tristan’s voice in his ear, his hand on his arm as he urged Colby to stand, broke through, and he let Tristan take his hand and gently tug him away from the kitchen, back to the sanctuary of their room.
And there, Colby needed suddenly to be alone. He loved Tristan more than anything, but he was falling apart and Tristan would hold him together. Right now, that wasn’t what Colby wanted. He craved space just tobe.Not to have to think about what had happened, about what Karl was going to do, and not to face Tristan’s worried gaze.
The bathroom door clicked shut behind him, and Colby leaned back against it, keeping his mind empty and concentrating on breathing.
Eventually, he straightened. He didn’t feel ready to, but that didn’t matter. Like he’d told Tristan—one foot in front of the other.
He peeled off his shirt, wincing as pain sparked through his ribs. There was a smear of blood on the cotton that he couldn’t place. Maybe his, maybe Nico’s. Didn’t matter. He’d wash it out before he gave the shirt back to Karl.
Under the shower, he turned it hotter. Not enough to scald, to punish, the way Nico had sometimes done. He just wanted the heat. Wanted it to seep through skin and bone, all the way to the cold place inside him—the one that had been there ever since he’d scented Nico.
His bruises came alive under the water, and his knuckles stung, a constant reminder of what he’d done. He’d said no. And he was still here.
When he turned off the water, the mirror was a blank pane of fog. He wiped it clear with the side of his hand, and his reflection stared back, bruised and pale. His eyes were too dark, his mouth too tight. But he was standing.
He didn’t feel proud. He didn’t feel strong. Just, less worried. Like something inside him had stopped bracing for impact.
When they find out what you really are.Nico’s parting words surfaced briefly, but he shook his head, denying them. That waswhat Nico wanted, for him to doubt himself. To doubtTristan.He knew what Colby was, and he was still here. And no words, however venomous, would ever change that.
Reaching for the clothes on the hamper, he remembered that he was allowed a towel now. Nico had loved to fuck him wet from the shower. Very deliberately, he took a towel from the rack and dried every inch of himself. His body, not Nico’s. Not even Tristan’s. Just his.
The bedroom door was still closed when he stepped out. Tristan was on the edge of the bed, back straight, hands resting on his knees like he hadn’t moved since Colby shut the bathroom door. He instantly lifted his head, rising uncertainly to his feet.
Colby didn’t say anything, just walked toward him, and Tristan met him halfway. They held one another, arms a little too tight, a little too desperate, until Colby’s ribs complained too loudly for him to ignore any longer. He made a sound, and Tristan instantly loosened his grip. “Sorry,” he said softly.
“Don’t be,” Colby said. “Let’s go outside.”
