Page 8

Mika

I study Gabe’s profile as we drive toward Shasta. The sunlight catches on his jawline, highlighting the firm set of his features, and something about it pulls at me. His focus is steady, his hands gripping the wheel just tight enough to betray the tension he’s holding back.

The connection between us hums, constant and undeniable, but I can’t shake my unease. Gabe hasn’t asked about the mind-link or what it means to be mates, and I don’t know how long to wait before bringing it up myself. He said we needed time, but how much time does he mean? The thought of him rejecting me outright—of him turning me away—is unbearable. I’d rather take small steps, learning about him bit by bit, than risk losing him by rushing too fast.

“How did you get started rescuing strays out here?” I ask, keeping my tone light but genuinely curious.

He slants a quick look at me, the corner of his mouth quirking into a small, wistful smile before he focuses back on the road. “I don’t mind you as king,” he says. “It started with Todd, actually. One morning, not long after he started as a deputy, he tracked me down at Chaz’s Diner. I was finishing breakfast, and he walked in looking like hell. Pale, tired—off.”

Gabe’s fingers go white on the wheel for a moment, he’s gripping it so hard, his expression clouding. I reach out, resting a hand on his thigh to offer what comfort I can. He glances at me again, his lips pressing into a grateful line as he takes one hand off the wheel and twines his fingers with mine.

“He pulled me aside, out of earshot from the regulars, and told me about a call he’d been on with Kaufman. It was about some strays on old man Markum’s property.” Gabe takes a deep breath, his shoulders stiffening. “When they got there, Markum had penned up three dogs. Kaufman sent the old man inside and then grabbed a baseball bat…”

He trails off, and I feel the surge of emotion rolling off him. The anger in me builds to a steady burn, but it’s Gabe’s quiet pain that keeps me grounded.

“What did Todd do?” I ask, keeping my voice calm even as my muscles tense. “Don’t tell me he just stood there.”

The flash of irritation in Gabe’s green eyes is instant, and I immediately regret the way my words came out.

“Todd isn’t a wuss, Mika. You don’t know him, or what he’s been through.”

I hold up my free hand, trying to soothe the sting of my comment. “Then tell me,” I say softly. “Help me understand, so I don’t do something stupid when I meet your friend.”

He starts to pull away, but I tighten my grip, refusing to let him retreat. Whatever bond we’re building, I won’t let him close himself off from me—not now.

“ Todd was green,” Gabe admits after a pause, his tone gentler now but no less firm. “Kaufman outranked him, and Todd was barely a deputy at the time. He tried to stop him, tried to step in, but Kaufman pulled rank. Told Todd to shut up and learn how things were done.”

A low growl rumbles in my chest, my anger threatening to boil over. Gabe squeezes my hand, grounding me again.

“That’s when Todd came to me,” he continues. “He didn’t know what else to do. He wanted someone to help him figure out how to fight back without getting fired—or worse.”

I exhale slowly, letting my anger settle into something cooler, more controlled. “He came to you for help,” I say. “And you’ve been helping ever since.”

Gabe nods, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “We couldn’t save those three dogs, but we’ve saved plenty of others since.”

The pride in his voice is clear, and I can’t help the swell of admiration I feel for him. This man—my mate—is something extraordinary.

“You’re incredible, Gabe,” I say quietly, the words slipping out before I can overthink them.

He chuckles softly, glancing at me with a mix of gratitude and something deeper. His hand in mine says everything.

I watch Gabe’s profile closely, the tension in his jaw and the faint hitch in his voice betraying the emotions he’s trying to keep under control. It’s hard to see him like this, carrying the weight of something so heavy. My chest compresses, my wolf pacing inside me, restless to do something, anything, to soothe him.

“I used to spend summers here with my grandparents. That’s how I got to know Todd. He was about the only friend I had here. He’d come over, and we’d hang out. At first, I didn’t think anything of the little bruises I saw here and there, but one day when he showed up, he was re ally stiff. When I asked him about it, he just paled and brushed it off.”

My stomach twists, a low growl vibrating in my chest that I quickly stifle. I don’t need Gabe to spell it out to understand what Todd endured. Abuse. The word flashes through my mind like a dark stain, the thought of it setting my teeth on edge. In shifter packs, hurting a child is unthinkable. But this isn’t a pack, and Todd wasn’t protected.

“Later on,” Gabe continues, quieter now, like the words are clawing their way out, “we were joking about some stupid shit, and I clapped him on the back. He just…dropped to his knees. Didn’t yell or anything, just hissed out a breath and collapsed.”

I grip my thigh hard, trying to keep my anger in check. My wolf bristles, ready to tear into whoever hurt Gabe’s friend. But I force myself to stay calm, to listen.

“I yelled for Grandma,” Gabe says, his voice deep with emotion. “Both her and Grandpa came running. Todd was just…out. Unconscious. When Grandpa got him inside and peeled off his shirt…” He pauses, shaking his head, his knuckles white as they grip the steering wheel. “God, Mika. I’ve never seen anything like that. I’ll never understand how parents can be so fucking cruel.”

The pain in his voice feels like a physical blow. My own anger simmers beneath the surface, but it’s nothing compared to the ache I feel for Gabe. I lift his hand to my lips. “I’m sorry, Gabriel,” I say softly. “Sorry I called Todd a wuss, sorry about his parents…and yours.”

He glances at me, his green eyes shimmering with gratitude. I kiss the back of his hand, holding it firmly in mine. “Some people are just born mean, and others are made that way,” I add. “But you and Todd? You’re stronger for not becoming like them.”

He squeezes my hand, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Thank you, Mika. It helps, you know? Just hearing you say that.”

The warmth in his smile hits me like a ray of sunlight, breaking through the storm clouds of his story. I feel my chest squeeze, my pulse quicken. How did I get so lucky to find him? How did I find someone this strong, this kind, this… mine ?

“Anyway,” Gabe says, his voice lighter now, though his hand still grips mine tightly, “Todd was paralyzed with fear back then, swamped with guilt. When he told me what happened, I had to beg him to keep his job.”

I arch a brow, curious despite the lingering tension from his story. “You had to beg him?”

He grins, a hint of mischief creeping into his tone. “Yeah. I told him he needed to stay on the force and let me know anytime they got a call about strays. I built the kennels in the barn, set up a website, and made sure Kaufman knew I was dogging his heels—so to speak.”

I groan, but his smile is infectious. My wolf settles, content for now, as the happiness returns to Gabe’s voice. The more he talks, the more I realize just how extraordinary he is.

“You’re a pretty special guy,” I tell him, my voice quiet but firm. I don’t care if I sound like a fool. He needs to know. He deserves to know.

The tips of his ears turn red, the blush creeping across his cheeks visible even from this angle..

Yeah, that’s too adorable to resist. I unbuckle and slide across the seat, leaning in to chase the flush of red on Gabe’s ear with my tongue. He lets out a soft, breathy moan that shoots straight to my cock, but the moment is cut short when the truck jerks onto the shoulder. Gabe wrestles with the steering wheel, cursing under his breath.

“Jesus, Mika!” he growls, his voice more exasperated than angry.

I c huckle and scoot back to my side of the cab, snapping my seatbelt into place. He shoots me a heated glare, the kind that promises retribution I’d gladly endure.

“You know, that’s a good way to get us killed,” he mutters.

I smirk, gesturing to the obvious bulge straining against his jeans. “Yeah, well, I see two bigger problems that might cause trouble.” I glance down at my own sweats, where my erection isn’t exactly subtle. “You’re gonna have to take the long way to the clinic or something because these aren’t going to go unnoticed.”

Gabe groans, slumping a little in his seat. “Fair point.”

Without arguing, he cranks up the air conditioning, angling two vents directly at his groin. I raise an eyebrow and adjust the remaining two vents toward myself, but the icy air barely dents the heat surging through me. It’s laughable, really. We’re trying to cool a raging fire with a hand fan!

By the time we reach the clinic, I’ve just managed to get my breathing under control. Gabe pushes through the door first, his body radiating tension that has nothing to do with the wolf rescue.

Adam greets us in the reception area, his sharp eyes flicking to the hand I’ve placed at the small of Gabe’s back. His eyebrows rise slightly, but he doesn’t say anything, just steps forward and offers a hand.

“Hi, Gabe.” His gaze shifts to me. “And you must be…?”

I take his hand, shaking it firmly but without challenge. “Mika Blackwell. Pleasure to meet you.”

Ada m studies me with open curiosity, his eyes lingering longer than polite introductions warrant. I hold his gaze, calm but unwavering, until he finally looks to Gabe, clearly waiting for an explanation.

“Mika’s a friend,” Gabe says, his voice even but deliberate. “A very close friend.”

The way Adam’s brows arch just a fraction higher tells me he’s reading between the lines. I don’t mind. I let my hand rub gentle circles at Gabe’s back, hoping to ease some of the tension I can feel coiled in his frame. Adam nods, his expression thoughtful.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Mika,” he says amiably, though he watches for a beat longer than necessary. “Did you hear about the wolf Gabe rescued?”

Before either of us can answer, the door swings open again. Todd strides in, his broad frame and easy confidence filling the room. His gaze sweeps over us, and he freezes mid-step when he spots me. His jaw slackens slightly, his eyes widening as his gaze flickers between Gabe and me.

“Hey, Gabe,” Todd says, his voice faltering. “I saw your truck and thought I’d—” He cuts himself off, his focus locking back on me with a mix of surprise and open admiration.

The intensity of his stare would be flattering if it weren’t making Gabe’s tension spike. I can practically feel the glare Gabe shoots Todd’s way, even as he keeps his voice light as he makes the introductions.

“This is Mika,” he says simply. “Mika, this is Todd.”

I extend a hand, offering a polite nod. Todd hesitates for half a second before taking it, his grip firm but his gaze a little too focused. When he lets go, his roaming eyes drift back to me, flickering with curiosity and something I don’t quite want to name.

Acr oss the room, Adam’s watching this exchange with a raised brow, though he keeps his expression carefully neutral. Todd’s gaze shifts to Adam then, lingering longer than I think he realizes. It’s quick—a glance, a flicker—but it’s loaded, and I don’t miss it.

Neither does Gabe.

He clears his throat, clapping a hand on Todd’s shoulder, breaking whatever spell had settled over the room. “Todd, we’ve got work to do. Unless you plan on standing there all day?”

Todd snaps back to attention, his cheeks flushing as he straightens. “Right. Work. Let’s get to it.”

I meet Gabe’s gaze, catching the faintest twitch of amusement in his eyes. Whatever unspoken dynamics are at play here, Gabe seems to take them in stride. I admire that about him—his ability to navigate the messy complexities of relationships with a level head.

And messy they are, I think, watching Todd throw another look Adam’s way before moving toward the back of the clinic.

From the way Todd’s brow arches, I know he’s noticed something—and so have I. My eyes flick down before I can stop them, catching the unmistakable tent in his pants. Amusement bubbles up, and when I eyeball Gabriel, the sharp glare he shoots my way only makes it worse. He elbows me lightly in the ribs, but I can’t stop the snicker that escapes.

I nudge him back, bumping my hip against his, my grin widening as I see his exasperation waver. The man is trying so hard to stay annoyed, but he’s failing miserably. His face softens, and I let my gaze trail lower. Gabe might not want to admit it, but he’s just as affected as I am. The bulge in his jeans is proof enough.

The way it grows under my gaze, the heat of his reaction so visible, wipes away the humor in me. Lust surges in its place, so raw and immediate that I know he can feel it. His eyes meet mine, wide with a mix of warning and want.

“Stop it,” he hisses, his voice low and rough. I want to laugh at his attempt to scold me, but I don’t. Not when I know he’s right. At this rate, neither of us is walking out of here without embarrassing ourselves.

“So, you all talking about the wolf getting away?” Todd’s question interrupts, pulling my focus back to the room. Adam’s attention snaps to Gabe, curiosity sparking in his expression.

“Actually,” Adam says, his tone calm but inquisitive, “I’ve yet to hear the details from Gabe himself.”

Gabe clears his throat, and I can see the faint flush creeping up his neck. “The wolf escaped,” he starts, his words measured. “I think it was through a window I left open—or maybe I didn’t close a door all the way. It happened after the third time I got up to check the IV. I spent at least an hour looking for him, then…” Gabe hesitates, and I catch the slight hitch in his breath. “Then Mika showed up.”

The way his cheeks redden further makes me want to wrap my arm around him right there, shield him from the weight of Adam and Todd’s curious stares. Instead, I slide an arm around his waist, tugging him gently against me. Gabe’s warmth seeps into my side, grounding me.

Adam’s gaze sharpens, and a knowing gleam lights his eyes. “Busy, huh?” he asks, his voice full of laughter.

Gabe’s flush deepens. I clench my arm around him, offering silent reassurance even as his fingers dig into my side—a wordless plea for support. “Gabe takes on a lot with the rescues,” I say, keeping my tone steady. “Losing the wolf really had him upset.”

The explanation feels hollow, but it’s enough to redirect the conversation. Gabe reaches behind me, giving my ass a quick squeeze, and I can ’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. It’s his way of saying thanks, and I’ll take it.

Todd, however, isn’t done. “I’ve never heard you talk about Mika before,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of suspicion. “Where’d y’all meet?”

I squeeze Gabe’s waist lightly, a silent warning to let me handle this one. “We met in San Antonio,” I say smoothly, meeting Todd’s gaze head-on. “Gabriel was delivering one of his rescues for adoption, and I was down from New Mexico visiting family. We decided not to mention our relationship in case things didn’t work out, you know?”

It’s a simple explanation, one Gabe doesn’t contradict. Todd nods, though I can tell he’s not entirely convinced. I don’t blame him—humans are often suspicious by nature.

“You sure the wolf escaped, Gabe?” Adam asks, his tone shifting to concern. I can see where his mind is going, and I admire his dedication to the animals he cares for.

“Yeah,” Gabe says firmly. “Sheriff Kaufman stopped by to raise a fit about me taking in a wolf. And there were no tracks from another person at my place. If that moron had done anything to the wolf, he would have been bragging all over about it.”

I bite back a growl at the mention of Kaufman. The man’s name alone stirs my wolf, a protective surge rising unbidden.

“That man is fucking batshit insane,” Adam mutters, echoing the thoughts I know Gabe and Todd share.

“You left off asshole,” I add, my voice dry. “He’s a fucking batshit insane asshole.”

That earns a round of laughter from all three of them, and I let myself relax a fraction. The tension in the room breaks, replaced by something lighter—something I can almost call camaraderie.

As Todd heads out, his duty calling him away, I catch the way Adam’s eyes trail after him, lingering just a bit too long. I file the observation away for later, curious but unwilling to pry.

Adam’s anger is palpable as he grits out, “Got a golden retriever pup, four months old, jumped out of the back of the owner’s truck bed.” His voice strains with frustration. “The pup broke his hip. I told the owners he needed a pin in his hip, but they didn’t want to pay for it. After I checked the x-rays again, I called them and told them we could put a cast on it instead. Told them it wouldn’t be perfect, he’d probably have some arthritis later, but it’d be a hell of a lot cheaper. Guess what they said?”

The sharp edge in his voice cuts through the room, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Gabe and I exchange a glance. I’ve seen plenty of anger before, but this is raw and righteous. It’s the kind of fury that comes from someone who cares deeply. It’s…familiar.

I can feel Gabe tensing beside me, his green eyes soft with sympathy. “I’m thinking they said no?” he offers cautiously, though he already knows the answer.

Adam shakes his head, the disgust rolling off him in waves. “Not only no, but flat out told me to euthanize him. Like he’s some defective tool they don’t need anymore.” He clenches his jaw and exhales sharply. “Sorry, it just really pisses me off when people treat their pets like disposable possessions.”

Ada m’s words resonate. A low growl builds in my chest, but I bite it back and let out a chuff instead. I’ve seen enough callousness in my life to know how deep it cuts—how easy it is for people to throw away what they should cherish.

Adam turns and leads us into the kennel area, his anger slowly easing as he focuses on his patient. We follow him to the far wall where the smaller recovery cages are lined up. He stops in front of one, gesturing to the little golden retriever puppy inside.

The pup looks up at us with big, trusting brown eyes, his tail wagging in an awkward, hopeful rhythm despite the bulky cast wrapped in bright purple wrap. He’s a tiny thing, all fluff and optimism. My heart clenches, and I don’t even need to glance at Gabe to know he’s already lost to this pup.

When I do look at him, though, it’s all confirmed. Gabe crouches down, his hand reaching toward the cage. The puppy struggles to sit up, his tail thumping harder. I swear I can see Gabe melt, the way his shoulders soften and his eyes warm. This puppy isn’t going anywhere. Not to another home, not to another person. He belongs to Gabe now, just as surely as Gabe belongs to me.

“You know I won’t be able to part with this one,” Gabe says softly, his voice carrying a warning for both me and Adam. His green eyes flicker to mine, searching. I smile at him, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

“I know,” I say simply. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Adam grins wide, his earlier frustration melting away. “Love at first sight, huh?”

“Yeah,” Gabe agrees without hesitation, his voice thick with emotion. “It sure is.”

I watch him closely, the need to hold him, to claim him, flaring hot and fast inside me. He looks up, meeting my gaze, and I know he feels it, to o. That connection, that pull that has been there from the start. His eyes widen slightly, then heat with the same intensity burning in me. His lips curve into a smile that’s as sexy as it is knowing.

Adam snorts, his voice playful but pointed. “You know, I don’t know what you two are doing, but even with my back turned, I’m feeling the need to blush. Seriously, get gone.”

Gabe and I laugh, the tension easing just a little. We gather the supplies Adam hands us, the pup tucked safely in Gabe’s arms. The little guy looks so content already, like he knows he’s finally found his forever home.

As we step out into the sunlight, heading for the truck, I glance at Gabe and our new addition. My heart feels full in a way it hasn’t in years. I reach over, resting a hand on Gabe’s back, and he leans into the touch.