He’d considered smashing the light bulb, but what would that get him? A shard of glass sharp enough to cut himself when he tried to use it as a weapon. And he’d be left in the dark.
It was beginning to sink in—there was no way out. This was how he was going to die.
Restinghis head on his knees, he thought about the pack. Grief caught in his throat as he thought what this would do to Bryce.
Bryce, who made the world steady and safe. Tristan had never known his father—wasn’t sure his mom knew who he was. And Bryce, even though he’d only been in his twenties at the time, had unhesitatingly stepped into that role. He’d opened his home and his heart to a lost kid and never once made Tristan doubt he belonged.
His chest tightened with regret, not just for what he was losing, but for what he’d left unsaid. He’d never told Bryce how much it meant to know, without question, that he was loved.
Footsteps approached, and the bolt was thrown back. He scrubbed a hand over his face and pushed to his feet. He was stiff and cold and sore, but he made himself stand tall. He was a member of Matt Urban’s pack, and he’d act like it.
The door was wrenched open. Nico’s eyes were watchful and hostile as they flicked up and down Tristan. “So you’re still alive,” he said.
Tristan bit back the first response that came to mind. Colby Williams’ warning made more sense now he could see Nico in full light for the first time. This man didn’t do mercy. Viciousness overwhelmed the good looks—there was a mean pinch to the mouth that should have been full and sexy, and something dark and cruel in the thickly lashed brown eyes. Tristan suppressed a shiver.
The eyes that had been focused on him lost their edge as Nico’s nostrils flared. He took another deep breath, scenting the air.
“Oh, Colby,” he said, voice thick with mock disappointment that somehow breathed menace. His eyes locked back on Tristan. “Who’s been here?”
Tristan’s instinct was to answer honestly. But then he remembered how Colby had taken away the empty bowl and bottle, like he was clearing up evidence. Maybe the visit hadn’t been sanctioned. He didn’t want Colby to get in trouble for his kindness.
“It’s not rocket science, boy,” Nico said, prowling closer.
“I was asleep for some of the day,” Tristan said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I don’t know.”
For a second, he thought it might work.
Then came the blur of Nico’s hand, and sharp, white-hot pain lit up his skull as he was slammed against the wall.
His knees buckled. The world tilted.
“You can’t lie to me,” Nico said. “Remember that.”
He turned and walked out.
Tristan stayed where he was, hands braced against the wall, dizzy, breathless, and sick.
Chapter Five
COLBY
By the time Pietro and Hooper got back to camp with boxes of pizza and packs of beer, they were mobbed by shifters who were as sick of elk and venison and canned food as Colby was. There was enough for everyone, though Colby knew full well that didn’t mean everyone would get a fair share. The meek might inherit the earth, but they’d go damn hungry in Cale’s pack.
Clutching a couple of pizza boxes and a pack of beer, Colby found Nico sitting on an upturned crate by the fire ring. Woodsmoke thickened the dusk, its scent clinging to everything.
He set down the beer so he could pull another crate over to sit by Nico. When he opened the first box, the scent of fresh pizza nearly undid him. His mouth was watering as he passed it over to Nico and opened the second box for himself, sniffing appreciatively at the cheese melted over beef and hickory-smoked bacon.
Then he noticed just how quiet Nico was, and he raised his eyes nervously to Nico’s face. He was expressionless, his eyes flat as they rested on Colby.
Panic clawed through Colby’s gut, rose up his throat, cutting off his air. He didn’t know what he’d done this time, but that scarcely mattered.
With a flick of his wrist, Nico sent Colby’s pizza flying onto the dirt. Colby stared at it, because the alternative was looking at Nico again, and he didn’t dare.
“I could have sworn I said no one was to go near Urban’s whelp,” Nico said, very quietly.
Colby’s tongue flicked out, moistening lips that were suddenly dry. How thefuckhad he thought Nico wouldn’t find out? He hadn’t thought—he’d followed that impulse to check on Tristan, to make sure he wasn’t alone, and he hadn’t thought it through atall.
“I just wanted to be sure he hadn’t died in the night, with his head injury.” He managed to keep his voice calm, but he knew Nico could hear his heart thundering in his chest.
