Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
COLBY
Urban sat quietly as Colby stumbled through his explanation. The only thing that gave away the fact he was listening was the way his fist clenched when Colby told him where Cale had gone to meet the prospective buyer for the silver wolf.
“You’re sure?” he asked. His voice was low and threatening, though the menace wasn’t aimed at Colby.
“It’s what Nico said, and he was pleased, so I don’t think he made it up.”
“You’ve no idea who?”
Colby shook his head regretfully. “Nico was the only one Cale told about going to Washington. He just said the buyer was someone rich and high up on the Shifter National Council. That’s all I ever heard.”
Urban was silent for a long moment, and a weight seemed to have descended on his shoulders. “Damn it,” he said finally. He looked at Colby and seemed to see him again. “And you’ve decided to tell me this now because…?”
Colby hesitated. “I don’t really know what it means, but if Cale wants it, then someone’s going to get hurt. That’s how it always goes,” he said. “You might be able to stop it, and that’s not something I believed anyone could do. Not until now.”
“Is there anything else you know, even if you don’t feel like sharing it?” Urban’s eyes were steady on his.
Colby shook his head. “I’ve told you everything now. Everything that could be relevant to the silver wolf, anyway.”
“I have one more question for you.” Urban leaned forward, giving away how important this was. And oddly, Colby felt like that was a moment of trust. Until now, Urban had been so careful not to give away what he was thinking or feeling.
“Does Cale know which of us is the Argent?”
Colby bit his lip. This was evidently a crucial question, and he didn’t know the answer. Not for sure.
“I don’t think so,” he said cautiously. “Nico wanted to question Tristan about that, which means he doesn’t know. It’s possible Cale does and kept it to himself, but…”
“But?” Urban prompted.
“So far as I know, Cale shared everything with Nico. But then, that’s probably what he’d want Nico to think—doesn’t mean it’s the truth.”
Urban was looking at him assessingly. “True,” he agreed, and it sounded like approval for some reason. “And did Nico share everything with you, do you think?”
Colby frowned as he thought back. “Not all the operational stuff. I think opsec was too ingrained in him for that. But the rest of it—yeah. No different to telling your dog, is it?”
He froze once the words were out. He should never have said something so disrespectful about Nico. Should never have relaxed even an iota around Urban. “Sorry,” he added swiftly.
Urban’s eyes were keen on his, though Colby didn’t know what he was seeing.
“Stay here. I’m going to brief the pack about the fact you’ll be here a while and the reason why, and I don’t want you wandering around until everyone knows,” Urban said. “If I come across Tristan, I’ll send him your way.”
For just an instant, warmth flickered in Urban’s eyes, gone almost before Colby could register it. He wasn’t sure what it meant, only that it left something steadying in its wake. Then Urban left, closing the door behind him.
But this time, the room didn’t feel like a cell. Colby sat obediently in a chair and waited for Tristan.
* * *
There was a brief sharp knock at the door before Karl opened it.
“You’re good to go,” he said simply. “Kitchen’s quiet now. There’s food if you want it.”
He didn’t say ‘You’re free,’ and Colby didn’t ask. He stood, stretched out the stiffness from the remnants of bruising over his ribs, and headed for the kitchen.
Urban was standing by the counter, pouring himself a coffee.
“There’s fresh in the pot,” Urban said without turning around. “Grab one before Jesse gets there. He pretends like he hardly drinks it, but I swear he can smell it from a mile off.”
Colby had just reached for a mug when footsteps pounded down the hallway. Tristan barreled into the kitchen like he’d been running full tilt, and stopped dead.
“You’re here,” he said, breath catching. “You weren’t in the barn, and I didn’t know where you were.”
And then he was across the kitchen and in Colby’s arms, clinging tight, his head buried into Colby’s shoulder. His whole body was rigid with tension, as if the moment he let go, something would break.
Colby held him without hesitation, without thought. Tristan needed him. “What’s wrong?” he asked urgently, low-voiced against Tristan’s hair. “What happened?”
“Bryce,” Tristan said, his voice shaking slightly. “He’s being a total dick and he won’t even listen. He thinks—I don’t know what he thinks. But he’s wrong.”
Urban stepped away from the counter. “Tristan.” His voice was quiet but compelling, and Tristan turned his head to look at him. “He barely held it together when you were gone.”
“But I’m back now.”
“Yes, you are.” Urban met his gaze. “And no sooner are you home than you’re asking him to let go of you all over again. To trust your safety to someone he sees as a threat.”
“Colby’s not a threat.” The words sounded torn out of Tristan, upset and angry.
“No,” Urban said. “I don’t think he is either. But Bryce is a mother hen whose only chick just catapulted itself out of the nest with no warning. You have to give him time to adjust. Give him the understanding he’s always given you.”
Colby felt Tristan’s arms loosen slightly around him, and then he stepped back, nodding slowly. “Yeah. Okay.”
Urban took a sip of his coffee. “You’re allowed to be upset,” he said. “But don’t forget how much he loves you.”
Tristan swallowed. “Yes, Matt.” And then the crease in his brow cleared and delight dawned in his eyes. “You said Colby’s not a threat. Does this mean—”
“Colby’s staying, for now,” Matt said calmly, and for a disbelieving instant, Colby thought Tristan was about to tackle his alpha in a hug.
“I knew it,” he said instead, and grinned at Colby, so wide that Colby couldn’t help but smile back.
Urban turned away, clearly deeming the conversation over, and Tristan took a step after him.
“Matt,” he said, suddenly breathless. “There’s something else I need to tell you. And you might want to sit down. Or not. I don’t know, maybe standing’s better for shock. Anyway…”
Urban swung back and looked at him. “Go on.”
Tristan reached for Colby’s hand, threading their fingers together. “We’re mates.”
Urban didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Colby froze, waiting for the blow to land. This was going to go bad, fast.
“I didn’t plan it,” Tristan rushed on. “Well, obviously, I suppose—it’s not exactly the sort of thing you can plan. But it’s true, and you need to know. I need you to know.”
Urban set his mug down very slowly. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Urban was silent a long time before he turned to Colby. “And you?”
Colby, encouraged by Tristan’s closeness and the fact Urban hadn’t yet exploded, nodded once.
There was another pause before Urban exhaled, dragged a hand down his face, and muttered, “Christ.”
He didn’t say anything else for a long moment. Then he asked, “Does Bryce know?”
Tristan nodded frantically. “Yes! That’s why he was being—why he was—why—”
“Okay, Tristan, I get the picture,” Urban said, with something like a wince. He rubbed his hands over his face.
“Fuck me,” he muttered, as if he were regretting every single one of his life choices and particularly the ones that led to him being alpha of this pack.
“Temptin’ though it sounds, I just did that.”
Colby twisted around, heart thudding in alarm.
He’d been so focused on Urban that he hadn’t realized another shifter was standing in the doorway.
Short and slight, hair curling around his shoulders, wearing a frayed flannel shirt, he sauntered into the room.
His gaze moved from Urban to Tristan, before narrowing on Colby.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asked.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Urban said, then to Colby’s surprise, he crossed the room and pressed a swift kiss to the guy’s lips. “I’m sure Tristan will fill you in, but I have to go find Bryce.”
The newcomer raised his eyebrows inquiringly at Tristan as Urban left. “Well? Don’t leave me hanging.”
Tristan’s hand tightened around Colby’s. “Jesse, this is Colby. We’re mates.”
Jesse’s eyes widened in shock, but then he narrowed them and took his time studying them both. “You sure ‘bout that?” he asked Tristan. “You’ve just been through something big. Sometimes feelin’ safe can mess with how things look.”
Colby’s stomach dropped, Nico’s voice in his head. You think anyone but me would’ve put up with your shit this long? No one else would have bothered with you.
And now someone else was saying it out loud. Why would Tristan want him? Tristan deserved someone who was whole, someone as special as he was. The fact Colby had ever believed otherwise just proved Nico’s point—Colby was as stupid as they came.
“When it’s your mate, you know,” Tristan said, voice strong and confident. “Think about it, Jesse. You know in a way reason can’t touch that Matt’s your mate, don’t you? It’s the same for us. It’s not trauma bonding, if that’s what you’re thinking. We’re mates.”
And the pride in his words… Maybe Tristan did see something worth holding on to.
Colby swallowed hard. He didn’t know how—didn’t understand it—but he clasped Tristan’s hand a little tighter and stood a little taller.
TRISTAN
Colby’s hand tightened in his, and something subtle shifted in his stance. Tristan wanted to ask about it, but Jesse spoke first.
“Least you’re outta the barn before Dave starts up with his singin’,” he said, nodding to Colby as he wandered toward the back door.
Tristan grinned. Jesse had accepted they were mates. If he hadn’t, he’d be arguing about it until the cows came home. “He likes you.”
Colby threw him a doubtful look as the door banged shut. “He does?”