Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-six
COLBY
Colby didn’t know what was being said in the hallway, but he had a decent idea.
He’d seen the look on Bryce’s face—a kind of soul-deep disappointment.
It was a reminder that his presence was causing problems. He didn’t belong here.
The only reason he was here was because letting him go would be dangerous for this pack.
No one had said anything when Tristan had left with Bryce, though Jesse had raised his eyebrows and shot a meaningful look at Jason. Of course they weren’t going to discuss pack politics or relationships in front of an outsider, least of all the outsider who’d caused the whole damn mess.
Colby looked down at his feet, clad in socks that weren’t even his, rigid with self-consciousness. He could feel Dave watching him again, that quiet, evaluating gaze that didn’t seem unkind, just measuring.
He was trying not to strain his ears, to think about what Bryce might be saying, but the tension in his spine made him feel like he was back in Cale’s pack, waiting for footsteps, for a raised voice, for pain.
He struggled to breathe through it. The one thing he was fairly sure of, now he’d been here longer, was that they wouldn’t hurt Tristan. At least, not physically.
Colby stiffened as Bryce walked in and went straight to his place at the table. He didn’t so much as glance at Colby as he picked up his glass and drained it. Not a word to anyone, and when he set his glass back down with a decided click, his jaw was tight.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Colby lowered his gaze so he wouldn’t be caught watching. Bryce was pack beta, and if he wanted Colby gone, he’d be gone. He’d have to walk away from Tristan. From the only good thing in his whole damn life.
He felt Tristan’s approach before he saw him.
When he walked in, his face was composed but his eyes were shadowed.
He wasn’t glowing anymore, and Colby’s chest ached.
But then Tristan spotted him, and something flickered back to life.
He crossed the room in a few strides and stood beside Colby, bumping their shoulders gently together.
The back door slammed open, making Colby jump. A stocky shifter stomped in, scowling and swearing under his breath.
“Fucking goats,” he muttered. “They’re next for the stew pot.”
He looked around the kitchen, and froze the instant he saw Colby.
The casual irritation instantly drained from his face, replaced by a burning intensity. His lip curled as he stalked across the tiled floor toward Colby. His eyes glared hatred, and his muscles were coiled, ready to attack.
Colby responded the way he’d learned—making himself unthreatening and small, or as small as he could, but it didn’t help.
The shifter came to a halt directly in front of Colby and stood glaring at him. The fact he had to glare up about five inches didn’t diminish the sense of threat that was rolling off his muscular frame as his nostrils flared.
“You’re Cale’s pack,” he growled.
“Christian.” Tristan had belatedly caught onto what was going on. “He’s not, not any more. Matt said he can stay, you know he did.”
“You fucking attacked us.” He was a heartbeat away from violence.
“Christian.” Tristan moved in front of Colby.
“Hey.” It was short, it was extremely sharp, and it had them all looking to the doorway. Matt stood there, looking irritated. “Colby’s staying for now,” he said to Christian, whose lip curled in response. “If you’ve got a problem with that, bring it to me.”
With one final glare at Colby, Christian turned around, shoulder-checking Tristan hard enough to make him rock back a step, and went over to see what Jason was dishing up at the stove.
“I swear to God, this pack’s like a kindergarten on steroids,” Matt muttered.
Colby reached out a hand to Tristan but dropped it before he made contact—adrenaline was still spiking through Tristan’s body.
“Hey,” he said quietly to Tristan, a world away from the tone Matt had used. “It’s okay. I’d have done the same in his place.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Tristan said, swinging around to face him. His eyes were slowly clearing of anger, until they were once more the mischievous and inquisitive hazel Colby knew so well. “Because you’ve got a brain.”
Christian growled, but it didn’t sound quite as vicious as the one he’d unleashed at Colby.
Matt firmly drew out his chair and sat down. It wasn’t as if any of them could ignore the signal from their alpha, so they all took their places. Colby was next to Tristan, Christian further down the table, a dirty glare on his face whenever he looked at Colby.
It wasn’t easy, sitting there under Christian’s glare and Bryce’s silence. But then Tristan leaned closer, just enough for their shoulders to touch.
TRISTAN
Once dinner was finished, Tristan got up to start clearing away.
“Sit down, Tristan,” Matt said. “There’s something you all need to know.
” His gaze swept the members of the pack sitting around the table.
“Cale’s found someone who wants their very own Argent.
Someone high up on the Shifter National Council who’s willing to pay a lot of money, from what Colby told me. ”
Matt looked briefly at Jesse, who was tight-lipped and unsurprised.
Evidently, he already knew. “Much as I hate to say it, we haven’t a hope in hell of making a stand against anyone with that sort of influence, resources, and firepower.
The way I see it, the safest thing for Jesse is to go public.
Let people hear straight from him. If everyone already knows where he stands, there’s no reason for anyone to try and grab him. ”
Jesse was shaking his head unhappily, but he wasn’t disagreeing with Matt.
“He’s right,” he said, his voice quiet and rough.
“So long as I stay quiet, I can be used as a symbol for any kinda cause. And that makes me damn useful to the kind of assholes who think they can prop me up like a banner and watch the rest of the world fall in line. They don’t want me—they want the Argent name.
So if I don’t want to be a pawn, I’ve gotta speak for myself. ”
He sounded both dejected and annoyed. Tristan wasn’t surprised—Jesse was as private a man as they came.
Tristan sat back in his seat and glanced around the table.
Everyone else’s expressions reflected his feelings, unsure exactly what this meant but guessing from Matt’s tone that it wasn’t good.
Or, at least, it wasn’t what Matt wanted.
Bryce still wouldn’t meet Tristan’s gaze, but it was evident from the resignation on his face that he too had known about this.
“I’ve made some calls to Washington,” Matt said, and made it sound about as much fun as mucking out stalls.
“We’ve got some breathing room due to budget talks being more important than anything else, but once the news about Jesse breaks properly, this place is going to be crawling with politicians and bureaucrats.
We need to be prepared for that and not rip someone apart just because they pissed us off. Understood, Christian?”
He got a half-hearted glare from Christian. “Spoiling my fun again,” he grumbled.
Politicians would be coming here? Members of the National Council? Tristan almost had to sit on his hands to keep his excitement in check. The Council didn’t usually get involved in pack matters, let alone in those of a tiny pack from Colorado.
“And I have the strangest feeling that the next thing that’ll happen is the Council deciding they get to control the way the news is broken,” Matt continued. “Riley, you need to write us a press release that we put out when we’re ready and which says what we want it to.”
Riley turned pale as he stared at Matt. “I don’t want to do that. Not after…”
“I know you don’t, and that’s why I’m comfortable with asking you to do it. Plus, you know how those things need to be written,” Matt said. He looked around the table. “Any questions?”
Nobody spoke, and Tristan bit down on his question about who exactly might be coming to visit. He would love to meet some of the more outspoken Councilors, the ones who didn’t lick the government’s boots. But it didn’t feel like an appropriate question in light of Matt’s seriousness.
“There’s something else,” Matt said. “Come dawn tomorrow, I’m going after Cale.”
Tristan was aware of Colby sitting still and rigid beside him. When Matt didn’t immediately say anything further, Tristan leaned forward to catch his gaze.
“Uh, Matt? If Jesse’s going public, Cale won’t have any reason to keep trying to grab him. So why go after him now? What’s the point?”
Matt’s green eyes were hard. “The point, Tristan, is that Cale took one of mine. He took you. And he doesn’t get away with that. Neither does any member of his pack who resists.”
“Damn straight they don’t,” Christian muttered from down the table, and when Tristan glanced at him, he looked happier than he had at any time since walking into the kitchen and finding Colby there.
Tristan swallowed. He knew Matt loved him, he knew Matt would do the same for any member of his pack, but something about Matt being willing to do this for him—that hit home hard.
“I want you all ready to go two hours before sunup,” Matt said. “Everyone except Riley and Colby.”
Tristan stiffened as Colby, yet again, was made to seem like the enemy. Jason was staring at Matt pleadingly, because either Riley was part of the pack or he wasn’t.
Matt met Riley’s gaze. “You’d be at too much risk around wolves facing off,” he said, unyielding. “And Colby’s got history with that pack. I’m not putting him in the crossfire.”
Colby’s jaw was tight as he stared at the table, the way he’d been doing since the moment Matt mentioned Cale.
Even hearing that Jesse was the Argent hadn’t seemed to break through to him.
It wasn’t much comfort to Tristan that Riley looked just as unhappy.
Not when Colby sat there like he was bracing for another blow, and no one else seemed to notice.