Page 58 of Rescued

I narrow my eyes, studying him. His posture is rigid, his expression strained. There’s no pride in his stance, no arrogance in his words. Just…frustration. Exhaustion.

Fear.

I shake my head. “You were the alpha. Your word was supposed to be law.”

“That’s what you think,” Zane mutters, voice bitter. “But even an alpha isn’t untouchable.”

I stare at him for a long moment, letting the words settle, rolling them over in my head. I don’twantto feel anything about this. About him.

But something in my gut twists anyway.

Zane Mitchell—the same bastard who banished me—looks lost.

And that’s almost worse than seeing him angry.

I glance toward the pack, toward the wolves standing at a distance, whispering among themselves, watchinghimmore than they’re watching me.

That’s when it clicks.

“They don’t respect you,” I say, and the way Zane’s jaw ticks tells me I’m not wrong. “They smell the weakness,” I continue, my voice dropping lower. “They know something’s shifting. And they’re waiting for their moment.”

Zane clenches his fists at his sides—doesn’t deny it.

I don’t know why I say what I say next. Maybe because, despite everything, this pack is still my pack. And I don’t want to see them tear themselves apart.

“You need to figure out what kind of leader you really are,” I tell him, voice firm. “Before it’s too late.”

Zane doesn’t respond.

I let the moment hang between us before Zane walks over to the rest of the pack.

The low hum of voices fades as the pack shifts and stretches, their excitement vibrating in the cool night air. They’re preparing for a run, the kind of group hunt that used to be as natural to me as breathing. My body reacts instinctively, muscles coiling tight and itching for the release of transformation. I can almost feel the pull of the earth under my paws, the wind rushing through my fur, the collective rhythm of the pack as we move as one.

The instinct is overwhelming, clawing at me from the inside. My wolf howls to join them, to feel the ancient bond of kinship, the unspoken connection that exists only among those who run under the same moon. For a moment, I close my eyes, letting the sound of shifting bodies and the growing growls wash over me. It’s a sound I thought I’d buried, one I’d resigned myself to never hearing again.

And yet, here I am, standing on the edge of what I’ve craved for so long.

Zane catches my eye as he shifts, his amber gaze steady, but there’s no pressure in it. He knows I’m torn, the same way I’d know if it were him. The alpha might not say it outright, but I can see the invitation in his stance. If I want to join them—if I want to let go, even just for tonight—he won’t stop me. Hell, he’ll welcome me, even after everything.

The thought sends a pang through me, one I didn’t expect.

I glance back at Gabe, who’s leaning against the car with his arms crossed, watching the pack with wary curiosity. He’s out of place here, no doubt about it. His scent is wrong, too clean and sharp amid the earthymusk of wolves. He’s a human standing in a world that’s not meant for him.

But he’s here—for me.

My wolf doesn’t understand what that means, not fully. The primal part of me screams to stay, to run, to feel the blood of a kill on my tongue and the electric thrill of being part of something bigger. But the man in me? The man knows what he’s already found in Gabe.

I take a step toward the pack, drawn by the visceral need to run. Zane shifts fully, his sleek gray wolf merging seamlessly into the group.

“Take care of yourself, Zane,” I shout across to him.

He’s still standing there, staring, but he’s not looking at me anymore.

He’s looking at the pack.

And for the first time, I think he’s realizing what I already know.

They’re waiting.

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