Page 4

Mika

S hit.

I dive through the doorway, catching Gabe just as his knees buckle. He’s heavy, all long limbs and solid muscle, but I manage to get my arms around him before his head can slam into the floor.

This is not how I imagined our first real meeting would go!

Not that I’d expected some romantic, cinematic moment where Gabe takes one look at me, throws his arms around my neck, and professes his undying love. I’m not that naive. But this? Watching him faint at the sight of me? Definitely not part of the plan.

I adjust him in my arms, holding him steady as I glance down at his face. He looks pale, his breathing shallow but steady. It’s enough to calm my immediate panic, though there’s a weight in my chest that I can’t shake.

What the hell w as I thinking?

I had options—or at least I thought I did. Then again, maybe I never did. With no clothes, no money, and no transportation, I was stranded. Everything I owned had been left behind on my former pack’s land, and I hadn’t exactly been in a position to negotiate with them to get it back.

Still, breaking into Gabe’s room while he slept and borrowing his clothes probably wasn’t my finest moment. I don’t mean to linger, but…

I can’t help myself.

Gabe is beautiful. Even in sleep, with his brow furrowed slightly and his lips parted just enough to make me ache, he drew me in. The long, lean lines of his body, his muscles taut under that warm, bronzed skin—it was all I could do not to reach out and touch him.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Instead, I crept out of his room, trying to convince myself that being direct was my best option. Clearly, I’d been wrong about that.

“Maybe I should have tried harder to think of another way,” I mutter under my breath as I carry him into the bedroom. Too late now.

I settle onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard with Gabe cradled in my lap. The weight of him feels right somehow, his head resting against my chest like he belongs there. My arms tighten around him briefly before I force myself to loosen my grip.

As I lay with him tucked against me, the scent of worn hide and clean musk has me clinging to the last shred of control as the memory in the washroom comes flooding back.

I watch Gabe retreat through the door, his broad shoulders stiff as if he’s holding something back. His scent lingers in the air, warm and rich, filling my lungs and settling like a balm over my aching body.

The moment Gabe arrived at the barn, I knew. That pull, sharp and undeniable, hit me with such force it almost overshadowed the pain of my wounds. My mate. I found him—or maybe he found me—but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s mine.

The bond was instant. It started as recognition, a rush of relief and desire all at once. And then the dream solidified it. Linking our minds, slipping into his thoughts while he slept—that wasn’t just coincidence. It was proof of what I already knew in my heart.

The dream was more than just erotic; it was a declaration. A claiming. There’s no way to establish that kind of connection unless we’re fated for each other.

Fated mates.

The thought is almost too much. I never thought I’d have this—someone who is mine, someone I can belong to. Being cast out stripped everything from me—my pack, my home, my identity. It left a gaping wound inside me that I thought would never heal.

Out there, alone and hunted, I’d resigned myself to death. I thought it would be better to let the emptiness consume me than keep fighting a battle I was destined to lose. But now…? Now everything has changed.

Gabe doesn’t know yet. He doesn’t understand who I am or what I am. It’s going to shake him to his core when he finds out.

I won’t blame him for that. A man like Gabe—a human with his feet firmly planted in a world of logic and rules—isn’t going to accept the existence of shifters easily. But I have faith in us.

I feel the bond strengthening every moment we’re near each other. The pheromones are already starting to take hold, nudging him toward me even if he doesn’t realize it yet. It’s subtle for now, but it’s there. The way he stroked my fur, the gentleness in his hands—he already feels it, even if he doesn’t understand why.

It won’t be long before the connection between us becomes impossible to ignore.

I stretch slight ly, careful not to aggravate the wounds along my back and neck. They’re healing slowly, the pain a dull throb compared to the heat building under my skin. It’s not from the injuries—it’s something deeper, something primal.

It’s the bond.

Gabe might think I’m just a wounded animal, but I’m more than that. I’m a wolf, yes, but also a man. And soon, Gabe will see me for everything I am. I won’t rush him. He needs time, and I’ll give it to him.

But tonight…? Tonight I couldn’t resist.

The dream I shared with him wasn’t accidental. I wanted him to feel me, to see me—not just the wolf, but the man, too. I didn’t expect it to be so powerful. His pleasure rippled through the bond like lightning, igniting every nerve in my body.

I can still feel it now, the echoes of his release pulsing in my chest as if it were my own. It made me ache, but not with pain. No, this ache is deeper, hotter. It’s the longing to claim him, to finish what we started in the dream.

Soon.

Gabe’s voice drifts through the air from the shower, soft and low. I close my eyes, letting the sound wrap around me like a well-worn coat on a cold night. It’s a good voice—strong, a little rough around the edges. The kind of voice that soothes without even trying.

I shiver despite the warmth of the room, the intensity of my feelings almost overwhelming. I’ve waited so long for this, for him. The loneliness I carried for so many years threatened to destroy me, but now it feels like a distant memory.

There’s still a long road ahead. Gabe’s acceptance won’t come easily, and I know the truth will shock him. But I trust in what we are, in the bond that ties us together.

I’ll take it slo w, step by step. I’ll ease into his dreams, filling them with the image of the wolf and the man, until he sees the connection between us as clearly as I do.

Fate brought us together for a reason. And I won’t let anything stand in the way of claiming what’s mine.

Ah, God. My mate is aroused.

The thought flares through me, sharp and undeniable, as I watch Gabe through barely slitted eyes. His chest rises and falls unevenly, his breaths catching every time his hand moves over his body. My sensitive nose picks up the faint but unmistakable scent of pre-cum, and it ignites a fire in me that I can barely contain.

Gabe’s hand moves more insistently, palming his cock through the rough fabric of his jeans. Soft noises slip from his lips, low and breathy, and it takes everything I have not to shift right then and there.

I could. I could shift, cross the space between us, and free him from the confines of those jeans. My mouth waters at the thought of taking him into my throat, swallowing him down until I can taste him fully. The idea makes my muscles tense, my claws itching to release and claim him.

But it’s too early.

I need to stay in this form, stay patient, and let the IV do its job. The ordeal I’ve been through has drained me more than I want to admit, and as much as I crave him, I know I’m not ready yet. My body isn’t ready yet.

I nudge Gabe’s leg with my muzzle, trying to rouse him, to snap him out of the dream before I lose all control. My mate stirs but doesn’t wake. His hand keeps moving, the friction of denim making my ears twitch.

Damn it.

I nudge him harder, a little less gently this time, my nose pressing into his thigh. He lets out a soft groan, shifting slightly, and then, finally, his eyes flutter open .

The dream hasn’t completely left him; I can see it in the heat lingering in his gaze and the flush on his cheeks. But at least he’s awake.

As Gabe stumbles out of the room, I let out a sigh of relief, my body sagging against the floor. Relief doesn’t last long.

The sound of his moan carries through the quiet house, followed by the faint but unmistakable rhythm of skin on skin. My imagination fills in the rest, painting a picture so vivid it’s almost painful. Gabe, standing under the spray of the shower, his brown hair damp and clinging to his forehead. His green eyes closed tight, his lips parted as his long, sinewy muscles tense with the buildup of pleasure.

Fuck.

The thought of him stroking himself off, his release hitting him hard enough to make him yell—it’s almost too much. I feel the shift beginning, the heat racing through my veins as my body teeters on the edge of transformation.

No.

I lock every joint in place, digging deep to stay in wolf form. The need to go to him, to touch him, to claim him, is overwhelming, but I know I can’t give in. Not yet.

By the time I hear his final groan of release, my body is trembling with effort. My claws dig into the floor as I focus every ounce of my strength on staying in this form.

My gaze drifts to the IV bag still hooked up to my leg. The fluids are helping, and my shifter healing is kicking in, speeding my recovery. I can already feel the strength returning to my limbs, the pain fading to a dull ache.

Soon, I won’t need this. Soon, I’ll be strong enough to shift and stay that way.

The thought of staying away from Gabe if this happens again is laughable. My cock throbs, hard and insistent, as my mind replay s the vision of my mate in the shower. Once this bag is empty, I’ll shift. Then, I’ll figure out how to bring him closer without scaring him off.

Gabe stirs, his lashes fluttering as his eyes open. I feel him stiffen almost immediately, his muscles going rigid as he pushes against me.

I let him go.

The sharp pinch in my chest as he scrambles off my lap is unexpected, but I force myself to stay still, my hands clenching at my sides as he stands unsteadily at the edge of the bed.

Our gazes meet.

There’s fear in his green eyes, wariness that makes me ache to reach for him, to pull him close and tell him everything will be okay. But I don’t. I can’t.

Instead, I wait, my hands trembling as the silence stretches between us. My body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve screaming at me to claim him, but I fight it. I can’t screw this up.

“Let me see your back,” Gabe says suddenly, his voice firm and steady despite the uncertainty in his posture. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his jaw is set, but I can feel the hesitation beneath his resolve.

I nod, keeping my movements slow and deliberate. Meeting his gaze, I lean forward and reach for the hem of my borrowed shirt.

The fabric slips over my head, and I toss it aside before lowering myself further, my stomach brushing my thighs as I turn slightly to give him a clear view.

His sharp intake of breath is immediate.

“Oh fuck,” he whispers, and I glance back just in time to see his mouth fall open in a perfect little ’o.’

His hand rises slowly, hovering over the puckered scar at my back—the place where the bullet had torn through flesh and tissue.

The heat of his touch sends a jolt through me, and I can’t stop the low moan that slips from my mouth.

I brace myself, expecting him to jerk away, but he doesn’t.

Instead, his palm settles over the top of the wound, his fingers tracing the edges of the scar with a gentleness that makes my throat feel like it’s closing.

I close my eyes, savoring the sensation even as my heart pounds in my chest. Gabe’s touch feels like everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve been missing.

His fingertips stroke the scar again, and I can’t help but shiver under his touch.

This is it.

This is my mate.

Logic and desire war within me, a battle I’m losing fast. My cock throbs, painfully hard, each pulse matching the rapid beat of my heart. The slick heat of pre-cum smears against my skin, the sensation sharp and almost unbearable. Every instinct screams at me to act, to claim, to take what’s mine, but I force my body into submission.

Gabe’s presence overwhelms me, his nearness tightening the bond between us until it feels like I can hardly breathe. My mate.

I can’t let my desire overtake me—not yet. Gabe watches me, his green eyes flickering with confusion and something deeper—something I dare to hope is the same need clawing through me.

I wait, straining against the silence, unsure of what he will do next. When the tension becomes unbearable, I reach back, my hand closing gently around his wrist.

“Please, Gabriel,” I say, keeping my voice as steady as I can. “Sit with me. I promise to do my best to explain.”

He hesitates, pulling his wrist free. The moment feels like an eternity, my stomach twisting in knots as I fear he will pull away completely. If he leaves me now, I don’t know how I will survive it.

I close my eyes, trying to block out the ache in my chest and the sharper ache between my legs. I will beg if I have to. Pride means nothing compared to the need to keep him near me—to keep him, period. The pull between us is more powerful than I ever imagined it could be, the intensity of it frightening in its raw, primal force.

When I open my eyes again, I find Gabe staring at me—not at my face, but at the very obvious bulge straining against the borrowed sweats. His green eyes are wide, his lips parted slightly, and the heat of his gaze sends another jolt of need through me.

A groan slips out before I can stop it. My cock jerks, responding to his attention as if it senses his interest.

“Gabe,” I mutter, my voice rough with frustration, “you can’t look at me like that and expect me to concentrate on talking.”

His gaze shoots up to meet mine, and his face flushes bright red. God, he’s beautiful. The embarrassment creeping over him only makes him more so, his lips trembling slightly as he struggles to form words.

“It’s just…ah, that cock is…distracting,” he mumbles, his voice low and unsure. He darts another glance downward, and the sight sends my heart racing.

Distracting.

The word makes me want to laugh, a burst of hope breaking through the haze of tension. My mate isn’t immune to me, isn’t unaffected by this bond.

So, he feels it, too.

The realization gives me the strength to hold back, to temper my need and focus on what matters—keeping Gabe close, no matter what. I can explain, at least enough to keep him from pushing me away. Words first. Action can come later, if it needs to.

“Gabriel—”

“What are you?” he interrupts in a fast burst, his sharp gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that steals the breath from my lungs.

The question stops me in my tracks. Of course, he would ask. How could he not? But answering isn’t as simple as it seems.

Fear churns in my stomach, hot and sharp. What can I tell him? How much can I say before it becomes too much? The truth could tie us together, but it could just as easily drive him away.

I’m not strong enough to lose him.

I’ve lost everything already—my pack, my home, my place in the world—and the pain of it nearly destroyed me. Gabe is my second chance, my only chance. If he rejects me, if he tells me to leave, I don’t think I’ll survive it again.

“Are you certain you want to know the answer?” I ask, keeping my voice low. Words, once spoken, can’t be taken back, and the truth will change everything.

He trembles, and I catch the faint scent of fear mingling with confusion. But underneath it, I sense something steadier—a determination that sparks a flicker of pride in me.

Gabe straightens his shoulders, standing tall despite the emotions I know must be racing through him. “I need to know the answer,” he says firmly.

His eyes sweep over me, lingering briefly on the straining bulge at my groin before snapping back to my face.

“You were there,” he continues, confusion clear on his handsome face, his voice softer now. “Somehow, in my dreams…”

He reaches out as if to touch my cheek, his hand trembling, but he stops at the last second, letting his hand fall back to the bed.

The ache in my chest sharpens, my breath catching. My mate is so close, yet the distance between us feels impossibly wide.

How can I feel the loss of a touch that hasn’t even happened?

The phantom warmth of his hand lingers on my skin where it might have rested. I can’t stop myself. I reach for him, and brush my fingertips over the firm, warm skin of his hand before clasping it in mine.

This time, he doesn’t pull away.

Hope blooms, tentative and fragile, but enough to send my pulse racing. His hand in mine is like a tether, grounding me even as the storm of emotions inside me swirls stronger. I caress his wrist with my thumb, a small gesture that feels impossibly intimate.

“You have some idea of what I am, yes?” I ask, my voice soft but steady.

His gaze searches mine, but he doesn’t answer. The weight of his silence bears down on me, yet I can’t stop my thumb from its gentle sweep over his skin. Even this chaste touch sends heat flaring through my blood.

I shift slightly, trying to relieve the aching pressure between my legs. Watching Gabe, I catch the slight squirm in his posture, the telltale discomfort that mirrors my own. His arousal is thick in the air, unmistakable to me.

My attention drops, taking in the evidence of his desire. The damp spot spreading across the front of his boxers draws a low growl to the back of my throat, one I swallow just in time.

It’s maddening. He’s making it nearly impossible to think clearly.

“Perhaps I should take care of that first,” I murmur, sliding my free hand from his arm to his thigh. The heat of him sears my palm, even through the fabric. Slowly, I let my hand travel upward, brushing lightly against the thick ridge straining beneath his boxers.

Gab e groans, the sound hitting me like lightning, igniting every nerve in my body.

For one agonizing moment, he pushes his hips into my touch, his body arching toward me, as though he’s drawn by the same unseen force that grips me.

Then, just as suddenly, he catches my hand and pulls it away, his grip firm despite the tremble I feel in his fingers.

“No,” he says, his voice ragged. “We can’t… I can’t…”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his gaze locking onto mine with a mix of need and confusion. “I need to know what’s going on here, Mika. Please, help me understand. I mean, there was a wolf, and then the dreams, and now you’re here, and this is all…all fucking unbelievable!”

The plea in his voice is impossible to ignore. His eyes, warm and filled with questions, seem to reach straight into my soul.

I nod slowly, releasing a deep breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Turning my hand under his, I lace our fingers together, the simple connection enough to steady me.

How much do I tell him?

The question churns in my mind. If Gabe were a shifter, this would be easier. He would already understand. But he’s not. He’s human, and I can’t assume he’ll accept any of this—our bond, my nature, or the truth of what’s happening between us.

Even so, I can’t lie to him.

I want him to know me—not just as his mate, but as Mika, the man. As much as this bond pulls us together, I need him to want me for who I am. But if I tell him too much too quickly, I risk scaring him away. And if he leaves…

The thought claws at me, threatening to tear me apart.

“ All right,” I say finally, my voice quieter now. “I can do that, Gabriel. I’ll try to explain.”

The words feel woefully inadequate, but they’re all I have.

I take a steadying breath and bring our joined hands up to rest over my chest, right above my heart. I hope he can feel the rhythm beneath his palm, the raw sincerity of what I’m about to say. I pull him down onto the bed so that we’re sitting side by side.

“I know you’ll have questions,” I begin, holding his gaze. “But if you could let me speak first—before I lose my nerve—I’ll try to answer them after.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. His forehead furrows, as though he’s weighing my request. Then, he nods, his lips pressing into a thin line of determination.

“Okay,” he says, his tone clipped but not unkind.

His gaze flickers down to my groin briefly before returning to my face, and the interest I catch there makes my cock throb painfully. I force myself to focus.

He arches an impatient brow, and I almost laugh despite myself.

All right, Gabriel. Let’s get this over with .

“Ah, so,” I begin, my voice shaking just slightly, “I’m a…shape shifter. A wolf.”

Gabe tenses immediately, his body stiffening as the words sink in. I watch him carefully, my heart pounding as I wait for his reaction. At first, there’s nothing—no words, no movement, just silence as he stares at me.

It’s not rejection. Not yet.

The absence of outright disbelief gives me the smallest sliver of encouragement. At least he hasn’t jumped up and called me crazy. Yet.

“That has to be pretty out there, I guess,” I continue, my tone as careful as my words. “I mean, hard to believe. This might surpri se you, but we aren’t exactly uncommon. Just a well-kept secret—for obvious reasons.” I pause, gauging his expression. “Okay so far?”

Oh, no. There it is.

The look .

The one that says my mate thinks I’ve completely lost my mind.

Gabe blinks, his incredulous stare pinning me in place. “I don’t know about okay , Mika. I mean, seriously? Okay?”

I wince, my heart racing as I realize how badly I’m screwing this up. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, trying not to panic.

“Gabe, I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I don’t know the right words for this, how to explain it in a way that makes sense. All I can do is tell you the truth. I thought—” I halt, swallowing hard. “I thought the dreams might help you accept it, but I—”

The words barely leave my mouth before Gabe jerks his hand free, scrambling off the bed. He’s on his feet in an instant, glaring down at me like I’ve betrayed him.

“So you can read my mind too? Mess around in my head?” he demands, his voice sharp and angry.

I jump up, my chest throbbing with emotion as his words hit me like a slap.

This is it.

I’ve ruined everything, and I don’t know how to fix it.

Guilt twists in my gut as I struggle to find the right thing to say. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. Maybe I should have stayed gone when I slipped out the window this morning, sparing him the confusion and myself the pain.

I look toward the window, my thoughts spinning wildly.

What do I do now?

“Mika.”

My name comes softly, a whisper that pulls me from my frantic thoughts. Gabe’s fingers brush my cheek, tentative and gentle, and I freeze at the unexpected touch.

“Mika, you look so lost,” he says, his voice trembling with something I can’t name.

His words hit me harder than anything else he’s said. My heart clenches painfully, and I instinctively reach for the window, the need to escape surging through me.

The wolf rises within me, desperate to run. Thick, coarse fur begins to spring from my arm, and I feel the shift pulling me toward freedom.

“No!”

Gabe’s voice cracks like a whip, sharp and commanding, but I can’t stop. The wolf pushes forward, determined to escape before I can be hurt again.

Then Gabe moves.

Before the shift can fully take hold, his body slams into mine, driving me backward. My breath rushes out as I hit the mattress, Gabe’s lean, muscled shoulder pressing into my diaphragm.

“No,” he says again, his voice low and firm.

I open my eyes to find him above me, his glittering moss-colored gaze holding mine. His hands clamp around my wrists, strong and unyielding, and my wolf retreats, coiling deep inside me at his command.

Fine tremors work through my muscles as fear, desire, and pain twist under my skin.

“Let me go, Gabriel,” I whisper, my voice a barely audible growl. “Just let me leave.”

It comes out as more of a plea than I’d like, but I can’t help it. I’ve already pushed him too far. I can’t risk making it worse.

Gabe’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into my wrists almost to the point of pain, but I don’t fight him. I won’t.

I ’d rather let him crush me than risk hurting him.

“It will be better if I go,” I say, my voice trembling. “For both of us.”

But even as the words leave my lips, a small, aching part of me hopes he won’t let me go.

I can’t survive losing him—not now, not after finding him.

“You can’t, can you?” Gabe’s voice is low, tinged with curiosity and something deeper. “Read my mind?”

The question hits me hard, sending a jolt through my chest. My throat strains, too many words pressing to escape, yet none feel adequate. How do I explain the mind link to him? How do I describe what it means to find your mate, to feel the pull of a soul so entwined with your own that existing apart becomes impossible?

I can’t. Not yet.

Shaking my head, I give the only answer I can for now. “No.”

“Mika,” he says, my name slipping from his lips in a soft sigh that makes my pulse race.

Before I can process his intent, his lips brush against mine, tentative at first but quickly settling with firm, confident pressure. My lips part in surprise, and his tongue slips inside, stroking and teasing until a moan escapes me.

I give in, twining my tongue with his, surrendering to the taste of him.

“Like that,” he whispers into my mouth, his voice husky and full of want. “Like that.”

He shifts, his hard cock pressing against my belly as he rises onto his knees, straddling my thighs. The heat of his body against mine sends a fresh wave of need surging through me, and when he rolls his hips, bringing our cocks together, I can’t hold back a guttural groan.

“ Oh God,” Gabe murmurs, his breath coming fast as he thrusts again. “What is it about you? You make me want you so damn bad. I’m not like this…”

His words trail off as I pull my hands free from his grip, unable to resist the urge to touch him. I skim my palms down his back, reveling in the heat of his skin beneath my fingers. I nip at his lips, capturing them briefly before trailing kisses along his jawline.

The scent of him—arousal, sweat, and the unmistakable musk of my mate—makes me so hard it almost steals my breath.

I clutch at the waistband of his boxers, tugging and pulling, my fingers tangling with his as he reaches down to help me. Together, we wrestle with the fabric, urgency driving every movement.

Gabe’s nimble fingers find the waistband of my borrowed sweats, brushing over my cock with a light touch that sends sparks of pleasure racing through me. I tilt my hips as much as I can, letting him push the fabric down.

When his hand closes around both of our cocks, I groan deeply—the sound raw and unrestrained.

I can’t stop my hips from thrusting, each movement meeting the rhythm of his strokes. The heat, the friction, the press of his cock against mine—it’s overwhelming. Pleasure shoots through me in electric bolts, building higher and higher until I feel like I might shatter.

His long, strong fingers squeeze our cocks tightly together as he glides his hand up and down, jerking faster. I rear up and snag his bottom lip with my teeth, and suck it into my mouth, licking deeply into him, our tongues tangling in a messy frenzy.

The release comes like a storm, every muscle in my body tensing and flexing as I come. Jets of seed spill between us, slicking his hand, our cocks, and our stomachs.

Gab e groans into my mouth, the sound so deep it vibrates through my entire body. He jerks his hips once, twice more, then freezes, his own release surging hot against my skin. I reach out and gather some of our combined cum, sucking it from my fingers and groaning at our tastes together. Gabe’s eyes go wide, and he licks his lips, so I grin and kiss him again, giving him a taste of how good we are together.

The mingled scents of our orgasms fill the air, intoxicating and primal. My cock, refusing to soften, throbs with renewed need as I hold Gabe against me, his weight pressing me into the mattress.

“Sorry,” he mutters against my neck, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he buries his hands in my hair, threading his fingers through the dark strands and holding me close.

I grip him with everything I’ve got, savoring the moment even as my mind spins with the implications of what we’ve just shared.

When our breathing slows, and the sticky mess between us becomes impossible to ignore, Gabe finally stirs. He releases my hair, pushing himself up onto his knees until he’s once again straddling my thighs.

I look up at him, my chest aching with an emotion I can’t name.

Every detail of him etches itself into my memory—the flushed hue of his skin, the faint sheen of sweat glistening in the low light, the way his eyes soften when they meet mine.

This is my mate.

And I will do whatever it takes to keep him.

I watch him closely, waiting for something—though I’m not sure what. His expression? His next move? His thoughts? The stillness inside me feels unfamiliar, a charged quiet that I can’t quite name.

Then Gabe smiles.

The sight startles me, though I don’t know why. The curve of his lips is soft but sure, a little mischievous, and entirely too captivating. My chest tightens, the weight of what I’m feeling pressing against my ribs. I won’t let myself wonder what that smile means—there’s no sense in hoping for more than I can have.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Gabe says, his voice breaking the silence. “Why I feel so compelled to jump you that it’s hard to resist, but you…”

His smile doesn’t waver, but his eyes flicker, studying me.

“You look so serious, Mika. Even after… You still look like you might run.” His voice softens, warm and steady, but the steel underneath it is unmistakable. “But you can’t. You can’t. ”

There’s no give in his words, no hesitation. It’s not a question or a plea—it’s truth, plain and binding.

Something inside me shifts at the sound of it.

He’s right. I can’t run. Not from him, not from this.

Running would be easier—less complicated, less terrifying—but I’ve done that before. And the ache it left behind nearly broke me. I won’t do it again, not when I’ve found what I’ve been searching for all along.

“Okay, Gabriel,” I say, the words rough in my throat. They come out garbled, almost unrecognizable, but he hears them. I know he does because his eyes light up and his smile widens.

“Your word, Mika,” he says, tilting his head, his gaze holding mine.

“You have it,” I reply. “I won’t run.”

The promise feels heavy on my tongue, weighted with more meaning than he probably realizes. I mean it. I won’t leave. Even if it gets hard, even if it hurts. I’ll stay.

Though I can’t help the niggling thought that Gabe might wish I’d run when the explanations begin.

He narrows his eyes at me, tilting his head in that curious way I’m already starting to recognize. “You’d better mean that. I mean, here I am, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you’re my—a wolf. ” He lets out a huff of breath that’s part laugh, part frustration. “And all the while my hormones have spun out of control like they’re on some major crack. I swear, I can’t keep enough blood up north to get my brain to function.”

The laugh that escapes me is unbidden and genuine. I can’t help it—his honesty is disarming in a way that makes my chest feel warm.

I understand his struggle better than he knows. The pull between mates is relentless, and the intensity of it is something I’ve lived with since the moment I saw him. It’s no wonder our kind bonds for life—no one else could compare.

“What I told you,” I say, my voice softer now, “it’s the truth.”

Gabe chews on his bottom lip, his teeth worrying the plump skin in a way that distracts me far too much. After a moment, he tips his head in acknowledgment, the movement hesitant but deliberate.

“I think maybe it is,” he says finally. “And that makes me feel a little bit better, actually. I was having some uncomfortably weird feelings for the wolf.”

The pink creeping into his cheeks makes my pulse quicken.

“Uh, yeah, so…” He glances away, his embarrassment clear, but his words keep coming. “And I feel that weird-ass connection with you…like, in this form too, is what I mean, I guess.”

My heartbeat stutters, then leaps at his admission.

The hope I’ve been trying so hard to suppress blooms in my chest, and I feel the faintest flicker of relief. Maybe—just maybe—he’ll accept me in time.

“I felt it, in both forms,” I admit, my voice wavering. “It’s very…ah, strong.”

Understatement of the centur y.

The bond between us isn’t just strong—it’s woven into my very soul. Every breath I take feels tied to his, every beat of my heart a reminder that he’s mine.

Gabe nods, his smile softening but never fading. He tugs at my hand, pulling me off the bed with an ease that surprises me.

“All right, then,” he says. “Let’s get ourselves clean—there are rescued dogs waiting for breakfast out there.”

His grin turns playful, but his tone remains firm. “Then we’ll talk. I have a shitload of questions, and you can explain to me what the hell just happened between us.”

I let him lead me to the bathroom, the warmth of his hand in mine a lifeline.

I can only hope that by the time the talking is done, he’ll still be smiling.