Page 38 of Rescued

He was a soldier. A tracker. The best. And it was all he had—the only thing he was good at; the only thing he knew how to do. The only thing that gave him value.

Just like all she had were her looks. She’d always known that’s what would get her away from the shithole she’d been brought up in, what would make people admire and envy her, what would earn her a living and bring her the only measure of security she could get.

Without that, she was nothing.

And without Outlaw Ridge—the way it was now, not the way Gunn and Michelangela wanted it to be—Sanchez would have nothing. He felt just like her: like everything he’d been clinging to—by his fingernails, most days—was being ripped away.

He’d given this place all he had, and he was losing it.

He didn’t hate her. She was just the symbol of everything that was slipping away.

She touched Switch on the back. “It’s okay,” she said. “They didn’t hurt me. Let’s just go.”

Switch was so furious he couldn’t move. No one messed with Breanna. Not on his watch. She wasn’t a wolf, like Mikey. Didn’t they see how fragile she was?

How easily she could be hurt or killed?

It was terrifying.

His wolf was still growling in his chest. He said, “It’s not okay. And if they do it again, I’ll rip their fucking throats out.”

He could see by their eyes that they believed him. But Sanchez always had trouble backing down from a fight, especially when his two cousins were with him, bolstering his wolf’s dominance.

Breanna spoke to Sanchez over his shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m not staying here.”

“Yeah,” Sanchez said. “Everybody says that, but every time I turn around, they’re still fucking here.” He turned his golden wolf eyes back to Switch, his voice taunting. “Switch. The lone wolf—the one who won’t be part of the pack, but won’t leave. Can’t pledge to a pack, won’t bond to a mate, either.”

What the fuck was he even talking about? “Breanna’s not my mate.” Hell fucking no. He was a lone wolf, and he was never going to have a mate. Especially a human one—who could get sick, or die from almost anything. And mates wanted cubs. Helpless babies. More people to protect.

Life was fragile enough without that.

Sanchez looked from him to Breanna, and snorted like Switch was some kind of idiot. He said to Breanna, “Don’t go walking in the woods at night, little girl. Bad things could still happen to you.”

But Switch felt Sanchez’s dominance dying down. The danger was over—for now. He said, “Just leave her the hell alone. And leave me the hell alone. Come on, Breanna.”

He turned his back on Sanchez and walked away, holding Breanna’s arm. He knew his dominance and flat-out rage were freaking her out, but he couldn’t seem to dial it down.

If any of those wolves had lost control, they could have killed Breanna by accident. “What the hell were you doing outside?” he growled. “Everyone told you to fucking stay in the cabin.”

She glanced warily at him, and he could smell residual fear and adrenalin. He hoped she wasn’t going to barf again.

But she just said softly, “I woke up and you were gone, and the door was broken. I was worried. And then I heard you howling.”

Fuck. “What the hell made you think it was me?”

He felt her shrug. “I don’t know. I just knew it was.”

There was no way she could know. It could have been anyone. “So you followed an angry, destructive wolf into a dark forest?”

“It was stupid, okay?” she snapped. “Next time I won’t bother.”

That made him angrier, because he’d hurt her feelings and it made him feel like shit. “Fine.”

They walked the rest of the way to the cabin in stony silence.

As they went up the steps, Switch realized what a mess he’d made of the door. No wonder she’d been freaked out.

Breanna still wasn’t saying anything, but he could feel the tension in her—and smell it. She was still amped up with fight-or-flight hormones, and he could sense she was right on the verge of tears.