Page 64 of Rescued

“You’re not doing him any good like this,” I add quietly. “Let us help.”

Finally, Adam sighs, the fight leaving him as he leans back in the chair. “You’re right. I’m no good to him like this. But you’d better call me if anything changes.”

“Promise,” Gabe says immediately, his voice steady despite the turmoil I feel radiating off him.

Adam rises slowly, rubbing a hand over his face like he’s trying to wipe away the exhaustion clinging to him. He wobbles slightly, and I step forward, ready to catch him if he stumbles.

“You’re right, yeah,” Adam mutters. “Okay. Just for a few hours, though. I have to get Becky to reschedule all my appointments today. My vet tech took Iko to the clinic kennels last night, so y’all can pick him up after I get back, I guess.”

I don’t miss the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. He wants Iko with us—hell, so do I—but keeping a restless puppy in a hospital waiting room isn’t an option.

Adam scrubs a hand through his disheveled hair, his gaze drifting toward Todd’s door before finally landing on me. There’s something raw in his expression, something that makes my lungs feel too small.

“I’ll be back soon,” he says, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as us.

I agree, clapping him lightly on the back. “Take your time. We’ve got this.”

AsI guide Adam toward the exit, I glance back at Gabe. He’s watching us, his fingers twitching slightly against his knee, his mouth sets into a hard line with the effort of keeping still when I know he wants to be doingsomething. Anything.

I hold his gaze for a beat, hoping he hears the words I don’t say out loud.“We’ll handle this, babe, together. Together and with our friends.”

Gabe exhales, some of the tension easing from his shoulders, and gives me a small nod.

Adam and I step into the hallway, leaving Gabe to wait. I know it’s killing him, sitting here, helpless, but it’s all any of us can do right now.

And waiting? It’s the worst damn part.

The moment we step out of the truck, my wolf stirs beneath my skin, restless and ready. Something’s off. The air feels wrong, tainted with something foul beneath the familiar scents of home, of Gabe, of the dogs still in the kennels.

Gabe moves ahead of me, his steps quick and tense as he approaches the porch. His whole body is rigid, like he’s bracing for something, and I don’t blame him. His best friend was beaten here.In our home.The place that’s supposed to be safe.

I take a deep breath, sorting through the scents lingering in the air. There’s Todd, of course, but beneath that, something else. Something unfamiliar.

“I need to shift,” I tell Gabe, already pulling my shirt over my head. “I’ll catch more that way.”

Gabe looks distracted.

I press my forehead to his for a brief second, a silent promise. Then I step backward and let the shift take me.

Theworld sharpens as I drop to all fours, my senses flaring wide open. The stale tang of dried blood clings to the air, and beneath it, an unfamiliar human scent. It’s not overpowering, but it’sthere, lingering like something rotten.

I growl low in my throat, ears pricking forward as I track it, nose to the ground. It leads away from the house, past the kennels, and toward the treeline at the end of the property.

Gabe follows behind me, careful not to disturb the ground as I move. His presence is a steady weight at my back, grounding me even as the wolf inside urges me to run, to hunt, tofind who did this and make them bleed.

I stop suddenly, my nose hovering over a patch of disturbed dirt near the kennels. The scent is stronger here—Todd’s, but also something else. Someone else.

I shift back, the change fast and brutal, leaving my muscles aching. Gabe steadies me as I rise to my feet, his hands warm against my skin.

“There was someone else here,” I say, my voice rough. “They stood here, near the kennels, watching. Waiting.”

Gabe’s expression darkens. “Think they knew Todd was here alone?”

A growl slips free before I can stop it. “Feels like it. And whoever they were, they didn’t come through the front. They came from the woods.”

Gabe’s hands clench into fists, his jaw ticking. “That means they planned it.”

I don’t need to tell him he’s right. The evidence is here, lingering in the dirt, in the air, in the way my wolf still bristles, itching for a fight.

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