Page 43 of Dark Dragon’s Wolf

“If you found someone who really loves you, don’t fuck it up by holding onto the bad shit,” Tank finished.

He passed the bottle back to Tristan.

“Yeah,” Tristan said. “I tell myself that. But I’m a fucking mess, and Mayah’s been through so much. I don’t feel right dumping my mess on her.”

“If you’re true mates, it will make things better for both of you,” Tank said.

Tristan shrugged. “I don’t know. Hell, I don’t know about anything. Mostly I just feel like I don’t belong anywhere.”

There was a silence. Then Flynn said, “I put you down as a Bad Blood, you know. When I registered the crew. I figured I could take you off if you decided to pledge to Jace Monroe and stay at Silverlake, but…” He shrugged. “You’re one of us. I wanted you to always have a place here.”

He took a pull of whiskey. “Mayah too, if she wants. Kira would like that.”

Tristan took the bottle and sipped, so he didn’t have to say anything right away. His eyes were stinging. They really wanted him back. All this time, and they still thought of him as one of them.

“Thanks,” he said thickly. “That means a lot.”

Flynn nodded, and they sat in companionable silence. Drinking. And just being there.

Back inside the cabin, Mayah stomped around the guest room, getting ready for bed. She didn’t want to let go of being pissed off, because then she’d be sad. And worried. And feeling guilty, because maybe she shouldn’t have yelled at Tristan.

But she just didn’t know how to get through to him. “Why does he fucking think he’s responsible for saving the whole entire world?” she muttered.

“Because they do that,” Kira said from the doorway. “Flynn’s the same. He pretends he doesn’t care about anybody, but really he thinks the whole damn world is his responsibility.”

“It’s stupid,” Mayah said, sitting down on the bed with a thump. “Can I flame him? Tristan, I mean.”

“Not if you want to have sex with him afterwards.” Kira sat down next to her. She’d brought a bottle of whiskey, which she held out to Mayah.

“You are a good sister,” Mayah informed her, taking a swallow.

Kira smiled. “I’m a shit sister,” she said. “I don’t know how.”

“Me either,” Mayah said. “It’s okay.”

Kira said, “When I first met Flynn, he had nightmares about the people he couldn’t save. Like Tristan. Their ghosts haunted him. Men like that, when they feel powerless, they take it hard. They think they should be able to do everything.”

“How did you handle it?” Mayah asked, passing back the bottle. “Because I think I’m sucking at it, so far.”

Kira gave a little huff of laughter. “You’re probably doing okay.”

She took a sip of whiskey. “I reminded him of the people he did save. Burned the bones of the guards who’d held him captive. Smacked him upside the head a couple of times.” Her voice grew quiet. “Loved him a lot.”

“I do love Tristan a lot,” Mayah said softly. “I’m just not sure it’s enough.”

Kira handed her the bottle, her face thoughtful. “Well, don’t you start doing it,” she said. “Thinking you’re responsible for making his life perfect, and making all his pain go away. You can’t fix everything that happened to him. All you can do is wade through the mess with him.”

Kira shrugged. “Some men need a lot of patience.” She grinned at Mayah. “Or to be smacked upside the head. Your choice.”

Chapter 20

It was late when Tristan got back to the guest room he and Mayah were sharing. It was the room that had been his when he and Flynn and Tank first took over the cabin.

He’d stayed there before, since he left, but it still felt odd to walk down the hallway and go into the same room. Like going back in time.

Except this time he wasn’t alone. Mayah was in there. Waiting for him? Or waiting to tear another strip out of him?

He pushed the door open and paused just inside the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, listening to her breathing.