Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
TRISTAN
Tristan got to the mudroom to find Bryce there on the same errand. He shoved his clothes into the washer along with Bryce’s and stood there feeling awkward as Bryce set the machine going. Until Colby, Tristan would always have gone to Bryce for comfort.
He realized now he hadn’t even wondered how Bryce was holding up, when he’d actually seen what had happened at the camp and not just imagined it, which was bad enough.
“Are you okay after, you know?” he blurted awkwardly.
Bryce turned to look at him, and the fine lines at the corners of his eyes were more pronounced than usual. “Karl took over the body count,” he said, neatly sidestepping the question. “He’s seen so much there’s no room left in his head for new nightmares, or so he says.”
And then there was an uncomfortable silence, so unlike their usual interaction that Tristan hurt with it.
As he looked at Bryce, saw the tightness in his face, for the first time he wondered if Bryce was hurting just as much as he was.
But for as long as Bryce kept judging Colby, Tristan couldn’t pretend everything was the way it used to be.
“Colby’s okay,” he said pointedly, because Bryce hadn’t asked and it had been his damn pack that had been slaughtered.
“Yeah. Kind of hard not to notice that,” Bryce said.
“What do you mean?” Tristan demanded.
“I mean he just sat there like nothing had happened. It’s not natural, Tris.
” He folded his arms, his eyes serious on Tristan’s.
“It’s what I said about him before. I’m not saying it’s his fault after what he’s been through, but he’s not okay.
I don’t know if he ever will be. And I just want you to see that, before you get so deep in trying to save him that you forget to protect yourself. ”
“You don’t talk about him like that,” Tristan said, and his voice fucking wobbled. “I won’t let you.”
“Let me? I’m still beta of this pack.” Bryce’s voice lashed the air with uncharacteristic temper.
Tristan’s throat ached, and he wondered how it had possibly come to this between them.
“You are,” he said quietly. “And I respect that. I respect you.” He drew a shaky breath.
“I could never forget the way you took me in and everything you’ve done for me.
But you can’t treat him like this. Matt doesn’t. ”
“Matt’s too caught up in what’s going on with Jesse right now to see in front of his nose,” Bryce snapped.
“Is that right?” Matt’s voice, cold and deadly and very, very quiet, sliced through the air.
“Matt—I just—”
“I heard what you said, Bryce.” Matt prowled into the mudroom. “This is my pack, and I never lose sight of it. You want to challenge that?”
Bryce swallowed and backed off fast. “No, Matt.”
Matt turned to Tristan then, and the leashed fury in him didn’t abate one bit. “Remember what I told you,” he said, the merest flick of his eyes toward Bryce making his meaning clear.
It was Tristan’s turn to swallow under the power of that gaze. “Yes, Matt.”
“Now, is there any room in that washer for some more clothes?”
While Bryce tried to work out how to stop the machine mid-cycle, Tristan retreated to his room and Colby. He really should make sure Colby had his own space, or at least felt welcome in the rest of the house rather than being restricted to Tristan’s bedroom.
Colby was sitting where Tristan had left him. His shoulders were slumped slightly, the way they so often were, as he looked up at Tristan, his eyes uncertain.
“Is it really bad that part of me’s glad they’re gone?” he asked. “It’s not that I wanted what happened to them, but when I think about the fear they caused, the people they hurt... maybe the world’s better off without them.”
He looked unsure and a little scared, as if Tristan would reject him if he thought the wrong thing.
“I can’t even imagine what it was like for you with them,” Tristan said honestly. “All I know is they can’t hurt you anymore, and they can’t come busting in here and take Jesse against his will. And you know what? I’m glad about both those things.”
Relief washed over Colby’s face, softening the tightness that had been there all morning.
“As for now, I need to run.” To get that stink out of his lungs, once and for all, and to settle the churning inside him from his confrontation with Bryce.
He was getting seriously behind on his coursework, but there was no way he’d be able to concentrate on it today.
No, a day running beside Colby was the panacea he craved.
“Let’s make the most of the sunshine. And don’t worry,” he added, when he saw Colby’s brow crease, “I’ll make sure we stay well away from the perimeter, like Matt said.”
Colby gave a small nod, the tension around his eyes easing.
They left their clothes on the end of the porch and shifted to run together in the fall sunlight.
Tristan headed away from the horses, figuring the scent of a strange wolf might upset them, and took Colby instead along paths through shining gold aspens, where the first crisp leaves lay on the ground.
As he looked at the big tawny wolf running so easily by his side, his eyes alight and eager in a way that he rarely saw in Colby in human form, he thought they should do this more often. Like every day.
A chipmunk shot out of their path and up a nearby tree, from where it scolded them angrily.
Tristan couldn’t resist the challenge. He threw himself at the tree, paws scrabbling as he attempted to climb it, causing the chipmunk to flee to the next tree, and the next, its scolding growing ever more furious as he kept following.
When finally he lost it somewhere amongst the canopy of branches, he grinned at Colby who was watching him, looking bemused. And that was no fun. Tristan spread his front legs apart and bowed low, waving his tail invitingly and begging Colby to play.
At Colby’s first, awkward step toward him, Tristan was off, hiding in the bushes and pouncing out on Colby like the maddest of March hares. And after a little while of this, Colby’s stiff uncertainty began to fade, until to Tristan’s delight, he silently stalked him and pounced back.
They chased each other through leaf-dappled sunshine, and the horror of the morning faded.
COLBY
The sun was warm on his fur, filtering through the aspens, and Colby ran. He didn’t think or worry—he just moved.
And somewhere inside him, something long silent stirred. His wolf rose, not in warning, not in pain, but in peace. It was like stretching limbs that hadn’t moved in years, like remembering the shape of his own shadow.
He didn’t know if it was the sunshine, or Tristan, or the way they moved together through the trees like they belonged there. But his wolf was back, and he was helpless with gratitude.
The shadows were lengthening when Colby realized they were heading back toward the house. It had been the best day he could remember, despite the way it had begun, and he felt lighter and freer than he ever had before.
But as they neared the house, that unaccustomed looseness faded.
They’d taken the day off when there were chores to be done.
And Colby hadn’t been able to help with information, the one way in which Matt might legitimately have expected him to be useful.
Matt’s pack might think he was holding back details, rather than understand that he hadn’t been trusted with the inner workings of Cale’s world.
Tristan, too, seemed to feel guilty after skipping out. “Why don’t we see to the horses before dinner?” he suggested. “Not my turn today, but that doesn’t matter.”
But when they reached the barn, they found all the stalls already clean and ready to receive their occupants.
Like maybe someone else had found comfort in steady, repetitive work.
Colby had witnessed the shock in their eyes that morning, the echoes of horror from what they’d found.
Even in death, Cale’s pack was still able to damage people.
He stretched out his hand and touched Tristan’s arm. Tristan turned toward him questioningly.
“Are you okay?” he asked. He didn’t know how much Tristan had seen, but anything was too much. Tristan was light and life and innocence and should never be touched by darkness.
Tristan was looking at him without seeing him, as if Colby’s question had sliced deep. Seemed like he was taking inventory inside his head.
“Yeah,” he said at last on an exhale. “It’s been a bit intense, these last few days.
I guess—I guess I’ve just been focusing on all the good stuff.
Being home. Being with you. Pretending none of the rest of it matters.
” He reached out and took Colby’s hand as his brow furrowed. “Maybe I need to do some thinking.”
“If you need space, just tell me,” Colby said with difficulty. He didn’t want Tristan to go off and leave him, especially when he thought the pack were looking at him with renewed suspicion after his failure to help with information, but if it was what Tristan needed, it was what he’d get.
“Maybe you could check on the goats?” Tristan said, offering a faint smile. “Chaos probably misses you. And I—I think I just need a minute.”
Colby forced a smile. He watched Tristan walk toward the house, his usual easy, springy stride looking weighed down, somehow.
If not for Cale’s pack, Tristan would be bounding off happily to college, to the shifts at the diner that he so enjoyed, and probably creating mischief with those goats of his.
Instead, he’d been hurt, scared, and he was now stuck with a mate who was trying and mostly failing to put the pieces of himself back together.
No. Colby shook his head, trying to force those thoughts away. Tristan had held him last night, even when there’d been nothing sexual between them. Everything he said and did made it clear—Colby was who he wanted.
But what about him? Was he doing this—trying, stumbling, holding on—just because Tristan needed it? Or was it because he wanted it, too, for himself? He didn’t know. But maybe, running out there today, he’d started to remember how freedom might feel.
Feeling more settled, he turned on his heel to go looking for those damn goats. They could be anywhere.
He’d barely rounded the barn when he almost ran into Karl. The other man was crouched beside a bucket, filling it with water from the spigot, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, movements smooth and unhurried.
Colby stopped short. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t see you there.”
“Wasn’t trying to be seen,” Karl said, without looking up.
Colby hesitated. “I’m just looking for the goats.”
“They’re in the east paddock. Probably found a weak spot in the fencing. Chaos has opinions about boundaries.”
That startled a laugh out of him, and Karl finally glanced up. “You’re still here, on the ranch.”
Colby froze, unable to read his expression. “Shouldn’t I be?”
“Didn’t say that. But Christian’s attitude can be intimidating when you’re on the wrong side of it.”
Colby looked down at the dirt, not knowing what to say.
Karl stood and picked up the full bucket. “I’m doing perimeter checks at dusk. There’s a spot if you want it. Matt’s fine with it, as long as you’re with me.”
Colby blinked. Of all the things he thought Karl might have said, that was last on the list. “You want me to patrol with you? You trust me?”
“I think you want to prove yourself. That’s enough.”
“But… the others…”
“They’re not me.” Karl turned away, and Colby could only just hear his next words. “Besides, I know what it looks like when someone’s trying to outrun ghosts.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Back porch. Seven.” And he walked away.
Colby watched him go, heart thudding, not sure whether he’d passed a test or just been handed another.