Page 8 of His Rescued Mate

“When you turn Alexa…”

“I didn’t say I was thinking about that, and she sure as hell hasn’t agreed,” Max said, running his hand through his hair.

“Maybe not in so many words, but we wouldn’t be having this conversation if that wasn’t your plan. Nicole has made me come to believe that fated mates are destined to be together. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t be fated. Oh, god, I think the incurable romantic thing has rubbed off on me. If she’s it, Max, make her yours. Find your path forward with her by your side.”

“Thanks, Asher.”

“Let us know what happens, and if Nic or I can be of help, let us know.”

“I may well take you up on that.”

Max ended the call, feeling more relaxed and focused than he had since Alexa had come to Kodiak. He thought about doing his moonlight dip in the lake followed by a hard run, but instead decided to head back to the cabin… back to her.

In the days that followed, Alexa and Max fell into a comfortable routine. Alexa liked to just ‘poke around,’ as she called it, by herself in the morning, leaving Max to work on a special order he had from a repeat customer in Italy, who was taking a trip to the Italian side of the Alps and wanted a new set of gear. The guy was made of money, so Max was more than happy to comply.

They would have lunch together—mostly because Alexa had taken him at his word, made herself at home and usually cooked something, bringing it down to him in his workshop. The first time she’d done so, she’d knocked on the door lightly. When he invited her in, she’d been fascinated, not just by his works in progress, but by the tools—some of them antiques—he used to create various pieces.

In the afternoon, they spent their time exploring the wilderness, which gave Max a chance to share this beautiful land with her, including various cave paintings and rock carvings. He loved how Alexa explored the world not just with her eyes, but with her fingers, running them over surfaces as if to commit them to memory. In the evenings, she worked on her notes while Max made dinner, and then they took the beverage of their choice down to the fire pit. They seemed to find both inspiration and solace in one another’s company.

* * *

Alexa watched Max surreptitiously from beneath her lashes while he moved around the kitchen, making them dinner. They’d fallen into a comfortable routine, and Alexa found herself waking each day with an enchanting sense of anticipation for what the day might bring. Each evening as they sat down by the lake, they shared bits and pieces of their past. She found herself telling Max things she’d never told anyone.

Despite the deepening bond between them, Alexa could feel that Max was holding back. There was something just beneath the surface that she sensed he wanted to share, but he would pull back at the last moment. There were moments when he seemed lost in thought, his gaze distant and troubled. Then he would turn back to her, his eyes would clear, and he would smile, filling her with a kind of quiet joy she’d never known. She felt a magnetic pull to Max, one that she was quickly losing the ability to resist. Alexa wanted to ask him about the shadows that lingered in his eyes, but she didn't want to push him too hard too soon. Wherever it was they were going, it was worth waiting for.

One evening, as they sat by the fire after a long day of hiking, Alexa decided to take a chance. "Max, can I ask you something personal?"

Max looked at her, his expression guarded for only a moment before relaxing. "Sure."

"Your sculptures—even the carvings on your tools—they have such a strong emotional pull. I can't help but feel like they're telling a story. Is there something in your past that inspires them?"

Max's jaw tightened, and for a moment, Alexa feared she had overstepped. But then he sighed, shrugging his shoulders before shaking them to relax them. "You're not wrong. My past... it's complicated. My present is a lot more clear cut. There are things about me you may find hard to understand—harder yet to accept. I've tried to live just in the present but my past always seems to find its way back into my work."

Alexa waited, quietly taking his hand, sensing that he was on the verge of opening up.

"I used to be a different person," Max continued, his voice low. "I had a life that was very different from this. But I found myself in conflict with my family—people with whom I’d spent my whole life.”

“Can I ask what?”

“Sure, but it comes back to that complicated past. Let’s just say I found out that the people I’d always thought of as open and loving had lied to me and had turned their back on someone—frozen her out completely and left her to make her way in this world without their support.” Max chuckled as he shook his head. “That sounds pretty melodramatic, doesn’t it? My great aunt disappeared when I was a very small child. It wasn’t until I was an adult I found out she didn’t leave, she was pushed out.”

“Did you come here looking for her?”

He nodded. “I came up here to see if I could find out what happened to her, to escape from my family and what I believed to be their tainted legacy, and to find peace. But some wounds never fully heal and some you don’t want to." He chuckled. “I don’t think I’m making any sense at all, am I?”

“Not really. You don't have to tell me everything if you're not ready. But just know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

“Even if what I have to say is so fantastical that it borders on lunacy?”

“Even if,” she said with a quiet certainty. “I don’t know why, and I can only speak for myself, but I feel as though we’re standing on the brink of something I never imagined. You should know that if you ever take my hand and say ‘jump,’ I will.”

The look of relief that flooded his face was almost painful to see. Someone had hurt her heroic artist, and she realized that somehow and at some point, she’d begun to think of him as hers. Max looked at her, his eyes filled with gratitude and something more. "Thanks, Alexa. I may just have to hold you to that."

They sat in silence for a while; Max pulled her closer and settled his arm around her shoulders. It felt good—better than anything in a long, long while. The crackling of the fire provided a kind of quiet music that was punctuated by the howling of wolves in the distance. Alexa could feel the weight of his words, the pain and disillusionment that he carried with him. She wanted to help him, to be there for him in whatever way she could.

As the fire burned down to embers, Max stood and helped her to her feet. As they walked back to the cabin, Alexa made a silent promise to herself to be patient, but to uncover the truth as well. She knew the answers were there, she just had to find them.

CHAPTER 5

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