Page 5 of Mitchell’s Untamed Mate (More Than Human #2)

T he sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the path they were following. The air had grown cooler, and the scent of pine and damp earth intensified as a light dew settled on it. He could also sense that rain was imminent.

They hadn’t talked much since their morning break. Each of them had been lost in their own thoughts and focused on navigating the challenging terrain. He had found Tracy’s presence a constant steadying force beside him. There was a sense of comfort in having her company, even as his thoughts churned with worry for his clan.

“We’ll need to set up camp soon,” he said, scanning the area for a suitable spot.

Tracy nodded. “It would be nice to find a place that doesn’t have too many rocks.”

“We’ll need to venture away from the path,” he added. “Animals travel it frequently. It is best not to disturb their routine.”

She looked at the foot-wide trail before she peered ahead of him. He could see the question in her eyes. She may have traveled around the world to many remote locations, but this was his domain. While high shrubs lined each side of this path, he could hear the faint sound of water from a nearby stream. There would be an open area nearby.

Three hundred yards down the path, there was a natural break in the foliage. Anyone unfamiliar with the forest would probably have missed the thinning. He ducked under a branch. Tracy followed him and caught her breath.

“Wow! This is like a hidden oasis!” she exclaimed.

He smiled at her excitement. It was a pretty spot. The stream forked, creating an island in the center. There were a few young trees, but most of the ground was soft soil where the creek had flooded and sand had deposited over time. Because there was a gap, sunlight had filtered through enough for grass to grow. There was sufficient dead wood that they wouldn’t have to forage for firewood. Mother Nature had kindly deposited it against a dead tree that had fallen. They had everything they needed: flat, soft ground, firewood, and fresh water to replenish what they had consumed today. If Tracy had more of her magic meals in a pouch, they would have a full belly.

If the rain holds off, it should be a good night, he thought.

“I will replenish your water bottle and gather wood for a fire if you would like to set up your shelter and perhaps prepare a meal,” he said.

She gave him a grateful smile and nodded. “Sounds good.”

They skillfully maneuvered across the shallow creek, using the strategically spaced larger stones to keep their feet dry. The steep bank proved challenging to climb, but he made it to the top and immediately reached out his hand to assist her. Tracy’s hand clasped his with a firm grip, as if she never wanted to let go.

The momentary contact unleashed a flood of sensations, overwhelming his senses. Their connection felt so strong that he couldn’t bear to release her hand, holding on for a few precious seconds. As they stood face to face, a heavy silence settled between them, and their eyes remained fixed on each other. As he looked into her eyes, he could see a whirlwind of emotions. He turned away, feeling a twinge of fear that she would ask the burning question that he could see in her expression.

He surveyed the area before picking the perfect spot for her to set up her shelter. He shouldered off the pack, gently placing it on the ground before retrieving her water bottles from the side pockets. Rocks on the other side had created a series of tiny waterfalls. The rapidly flowing water was the perfect place to replenish their water supply. He climbed down, filling her bottles before pulling the soft leather pouch he carried for his own water over his head.

He liked how they worked in tandem. Their movements were synchronized, as if they had been doing this together for years. He returned with the water bottles and began collecting wood while she finished setting up her shelter, placed her cooking device on a rock, and began heating the water. While the water heated, she collected rocks to make a circle for their fire. He took over once he had enough wood to finish up while she worked on their meal.

As dusk settled, their camp was complete. He sat across from Tracy. The crackling fire illuminated her face, casting a warm glow that softened her features. He watched her from across the flames, his earlier worries melting away, replaced by a growing sense of connection.

“I’m sorry… about upsetting you earlier. I didn’t mean to,” she said, her voice low and sincere.

Mitchell looked into her eyes, the flickering light reflecting in their depths. “You have nothing to apologize for. If what you say is true, then perhaps humans deserved what happened to them. If nothing else, maybe it was a good lesson for both our peoples.”

Her lips twitched and she looked down at the steaming cup of tea she was holding. He liked that she cared about his feelings. A low snort of amusement swept through him.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

He shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant gesture. “I was just thinking, it’s impressive how quickly you’ve become attuned to my emotions, considering we’ve only been acquainted for a day. Despite knowing me my whole life, the people in my village rarely inquire about my feelings. Maybe humans haven’t really changed much.”

“Ouch. That’s a bit harsh,” she commented.

“Perhaps… or perhaps not.”

“I think maybe you tend to keep people at arm’s length,” she suggested.

He frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid to let people get close to you,” she said.

“Maybe.”

“Mitchell…. Mitchell,”

Her soft, compassionate voice demanded his response, leaving him powerless to resist. His attention shifted from the flickering flames to her face, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“They die… if I let them in, they die on me and there is nothing I can do to protect them. We lost five this past winter. My mother… my mother was one of them,” he said.

“Oh, Mitchell. I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

He shook his head. “We expect the elders to die. My mother was about to celebrate her forty-fifth winter. It hurt, but not as much as the feeling of helplessness at watching the—” He drew in a shuddering breath and looked down at his hands. “We lost two of our young this past winter. That always hurts the most. It is like watching the last of my people die, and there is not a damn thing I can do to stop it from happening, except... you offered me a new path. A new life for my people. I don't know how I will get them to accept it—I don't want to accept it myself—but our old life will only give us more death the longer we cling to it. That much I know.”

Tracy rose, stepped around the fire, and sank down on the log next to him. She wound her arm around his waist and laid her head against his shoulder. Another shuddering breath slipped from him. A single drop of moisture fell and landed on his hand. The tear, a symbol of the pain he was constantly having to hide, glimmered in the dancing flames. He absently rubbed it away with his thumb. Tracy laid her hand over his and gave a gentle squeeze.

He was glad when she didn’t speak. She seemed to understand that more words would not make this easier. What he needed was… her—just… her. The peacefulness of the night, the crackle of the fire, and her.

As they sat by the fire, the night wrapped around them like a comforting blanket. Above, the stars peeked through the canopy of clouds. The forest buzzed with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, creating a symphony. In that quiet, amidst the towering trees and the shared warmth of the fire, Mitchell felt something he had never felt before. A spark of hope that made him believe that there was a future, not just for humans, but for himself as well.

He looked up when a raindrop struck him. Rising, they packed away the trash from their dinner and the cookstove. Tracy placed the items in her backpack, then took her pack and placed it in her tent. He banked the fire and looked around for a place to shelter from the storm.

“Come on,” she called.

He looked where she was crouching in her shelter. She was holding the flap back and motioning for him to join her. He took a step and stopped.

She huffed and motioned again. “I won’t bite, I promise. There is plenty of room. Grab your bag as well.”

He grabbed the small leather bag with the few items he had brought with him and headed toward the tent as the rain began to fall more heavily. A streak of lightning danced across the sky followed by the rumble of thunder.

Tracy rolled to the other side of the tent, unzipped the screen, and closed the flaps. He tossed his bag on top of her backpack and crawled inside, then twisted and pulled off his boots. Indecision struck him while he tried to decide if he should put them inside or out. The idea of wearing wet boots didn’t thrill him.

“Here,” she said, reaching around him to pull the flaps until they crisscrossed each other. “You can put your boots outside, but they will still be protected. Just make sure you check them in the morning. I learned the hard way that little critters like spiders and centipedes like to hide in them during the night.”

He placed his boots under the protective flap next to the tent. Zipping the screen, he studied the interior. There was room for him to sit up without bumping his head. It was wide enough for him, Tracy, and their gear while still being long enough that he could lie down without his feet hitting the opposite tent wall.

“We just have to make sure we don’t push the bottom screen out. This tent has what is known as a bathtub floor. Another hard-learned lesson, don’t push the bottom of the bathtub out past the top of it or the water will run inside and we'll end up either floating on the air mattress or soaking wet," she explained with a rueful smile, showing him how the top of the bathtub floor hung over the floor of the tent, attached via a thin screen which allowed air to flow through the shelter.

“This is… remarkable. It is very thin, yet no water comes through,” he said, looking up.

The steady patter of rain was loud against the thin material. Tracy motioned for him to lift his butt off the floor. She slid a soft, fluffy material under him. He laid back, marveling how something so thin and light could cushion him against the hard ground. He looked up at her when she laid down beside him on her thin mattress.

“Will you be cold without your cover?” he asked, concerned.

She rolled onto her side and smiled. “No, I’ll be okay. I’ve got my jacket. Besides, if I get cold, I can always snuggle up against you,” she teased.

The idea of holding her close made his mouth go dry. He imagined her reaction if he confessed to never having held a woman all night. With only a few humans around, forming intimate relationships was a challenge. He had learned early on that raging hormones and hurt feelings were a volatile combination that inevitably led to trouble and he had done everything he could to avoid landing in an awkward situation. Jace, on the other hand, had thrown himself into the drama. His friend’s behavior as a teenager had gotten him into trouble with the elders on multiple occasions.

“What’s the matter, bear got your tongue?” she ribbed.

His lips twitched. “I believe one did earlier.”

“Oh… that was good,” she laughed. “Does that mean you liked it?”

He rolled onto his side and folded his arm under his head to act as a pillow. There was something comforting about lying beside her in the intimacy of the tent, flirting with her amidst the sound of gentle rain falling around them. It had been a long time since he had felt this relaxed.

“Yes, I liked it. Did?—”

Embarrassment washed over him, and he could feel his face turning hot. It seemed strange asking a woman if she liked his kiss.

She reached out, cupped his hand, and pulled it toward her. She wrapped her fingers around his, rubbing her thumb against his skin. In the flashes of light from the lightning, he was captivated by the soft expression in her eyes.

“I liked it very much,” she confessed.

“We should get some rest. We have another long day tomorrow,” he murmured.

“Okay.”

He rolled over so his back was to her. The storm had quieted to a steady drizzle, occasionally punctuated by flashes of lightning and the distant rumble of rolling thunder. Their fire had been put out by the rain, leaving behind a lingering smoky aroma in the air.

Tracy moved around restlessly on her mattress, trying to get comfortable before finally growing still. With each passing moment, his body and mind grew more and more relaxed, finding solace in the tranquility. There was a part of him that resisted sleep, driven by the need to remain vigilant and ensure there were no surprises lurking in the darkness. It was impossible. The sensation of weights pressing down on his eyelids made it difficult for him to keep his eyes open.

Just as he was drifting off to sleep, he felt Tracy’s arm gently wrap around his waist. She snuggled against his back, spooning him as if they slept like this all the time. He gently intertwined his fingers with hers and pressed her hand against his chest. The corners of his mouth turned up into a faint smile as he fell into a deep sleep.

Olympic National Park:

The previous night

Hyder Furman dropped his cigarette and ground the butt out with the heel of his boot. He absently rubbed his bruised knuckles with his hand as he leaned back against the hood of his truck. The overcast night promised rain. He hoped his meeting on the isolated fire road along the outskirts of the Olympic National Park went quickly.

Twin beams from an approaching vehicle alerted him that his long wait was over. He straightened as the SUV slowed to a stop. Seconds later, the blinding lights disappeared and the noise from opening doors could be heard.

He nodded to Bishop Foxworthy and furrowed his brows in disapproval when he noticed the men walking up beside Bishop. The heavy-set man on his right released a loud burp.

“Bishop,” he greeted. “Who’re your friends?”

Bishop pursed his lips. “This is Lucien. The disgusting one is Carter Stout.”

“Howdy,” Carter greeted, unperturbed by Bishop’s insult.

Hyder nodded to the warthog shifter and turned his attention to Lucien. The man oozed menace. Lucien was studying him with an intensity that made the hair on the back of his neck rise.

“You should have warned me you were bringing company,” he said, finally turning his attention back to Bishop.

“You said you needed support. I brought brains, brawn, and re-enforcement in case things turn nastier than you,” Bishop replied, pointing to himself, then Carter, and finally Lucien.

Hyder snorted out a laugh and grinned. “I knew you were the right shifter for the job.”

Bishop shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and nodded. “So, what’s the job?”

“We are going hunting. I have the gear we’ll need, but there is a lot of territory to cover,” Hyder explained.

“Interesting. What are we hunting?” Lucien asked, scanning the dark forest.

Hesitating, Hyder took a moment to observe the three men, analyzing their body language and expressions. Lucien and Bishop’s eyes were filled with curiosity. Carter nonchalantly picked something out of his teeth. Out of the three, he was worried about Carter running his mouth—and Lucien... there was an inexplicable sense of danger surrounding the shifter, making Hyder instinctively wary of him, but Hyder needed to make sure that Bishop fully grasped the magnitude of what was at stake. Isabella Wyland was a force to be reckoned with.

“Humans,” he finally answered in a clipped tone.