Page 43 of Rescued

“You don’t have to talk about it more than you have already,” Gabe says softly, his voice envelopes me like the warmth of a summer sun. “But if you want to, I’m here. About the pack. About…what happened.”

My wolf stirs uneasily, the memories clawing their way to the surface. I draw in a shaky breath and look away, focusing on the stars. They’re so far away, untouched by the mess of this world.

“It wasn’t always bad,” I start, my voice barely above a whisper. “The pack was my home for a long time. My family. I believed in the pack, in Zane, in the rules we were raised to follow.”

Gabe doesn’t say anything, but I feel his steady presence, his silent encouragement.

“I hid who I was for years,” I continue, my throat contracting. “It wasn’t just fear of rejection—it was shame. They made us believe that being different was…wrong. That it made us weak, unworthy of the pack.” I swallow hard, the bitterness rising like bile.

“And then Jared happened,” I say, the name like a curse on my tongue. “He wasn’t just another wolf; he was my best friend. We grew up together, trained together. I trusted him. Thought I could share my secret with him.”

Gabe shifts, his fingers tightening around the mug, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“I told him how I felt,” I admit, my voice cracking. “I told him I…I cared about him, more than a friend should. And at first, I thought he felt the same. He kissed me, Gabe.” I laugh bitterly, the memory cutting like glass. “He kissed me, and then he turned me in. Told the council I’d tried to corrupt him.”

“Jesus,” Gabe breathes, his face a mix of anger and disbelief.

“They didn’t even ask for my side of the story,” I continue, the words spilling out now. “They called me a threat to the pack’s stability, a danger to our traditions. Zane—” My voice falters, and I have to take a moment to steady myself. “Zane didn’t say a word in my defense. He just stood there, letting the council decide my fate.”

I close my eyes, the memory of that day vivid and sharp. The council chamber, the cold, hard stares. The humiliation of standing there while they tore my life apart.

“They exiled me,” I finish, my voice hollow. “Told me I wasn’t welcome anymore, that I wasn’t a wolf worthy of the pack name. And then they turned their backs on me. All of them. Even Zane.”

Silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating. When I finally open my eyes, Gabe is staring at me, his expression raw and unguarded.

“They didn’t deserve you,” he says fiercely, the conviction in his voice catching me off guard. “Mika, you’re better than all of them. They were cowards, every last one of them. And Zane… I don’t care what his reasons were. He failed you.”

I blink, the heat rising behind my eyes. I don’t cry—I haven’t in years—but Gabe’s words hit something deep inside me, something I didn’t know was still there.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Gabe continues, his voice softening. “You’ve got me now. And I promise you, I’ll never turn my back on you. Never.”

I reach out, gripping his hand. “Thank you,” I whisper, the words feeling inadequate but all I have at the moment.

For the first time in years, the ache in my chest eases, just a little.

Gabe

Mika’s words stick with me long after he’s gone inside, leaving me alone on the porch with the quiet hum of crickets. He’d laid himself bare tonight, shared a pain so deep it seemed to take something out of him just to say it aloud. My heart aches for him.

The way he described it—betrayed by someone he trusted, abandoned by his family, his pack—God, I can’t imagine living through something like that. And yet, I see the strength in him. He’s survived it, even if the scars are still there, hidden under the surface.

I tip my head back against the porch post, staring up at the stars. My grip tightens around the mug in my hands as I think about what Mika’s been through, what it says about the kind of man he is. He didn’t let their hatred break him.

And yet, I can’t help but feel the edges of guilt creeping in. Mika’s been exiled, torn away from his life, and here I am, living in relative peace, surrounded by people like Todd and Adam who accept me for who Iam. Sure, my parents kicked me out when I came out, but at least I had my grandparents. Mika didn’t even have that much.

I wish I could take some of that pain away from him. Share the burden. But I don’t know how to fix this, don’t know if it’s even something Icanfix.

I push to my feet, pacing the porch as my thoughts churn. I don’t want to pity Mika—that’s not what he needs, not from me. What he needs is someone who sees him, all of him, and still stands by his side. Someone who won’t flinch at his scars or his anger or the way he sometimes tries to hide behind that tough, unshakable exterior.

He’s more than his past. More than his pain. And damn it, I’m going to make sure he knows that.

And now we’re going back.

Leaning against the porch railing, I try to focus on the cool night air, hoping it’ll settle the firestorm inside me. I know I can’t fix what happened to Mika, can’t undo the years of pain and loneliness he’s endured, but the thought of stepping foot onto that land—onto the soil where they tried to break him—makes me want to scream with frustration.

They don’t deserve him.

I ball my hands into fists, knuckles whitening as I grip the railing. How could they do that to him? How could they look at someone like Mika—kind, brave, loyal to a fault—and decide he wasn’t enough?

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