Page 35 of Wild Heart

"Damn right I am. I may not be able to hike the perimeter right now, but I still have a voice. And I’m going to use it."

They all shared a moment of determined silence, the air between them heavy with unspoken unity.

As evening settled over the sanctuary, Mason and Natalie took to the trails again, placing cameras, checking fencing, setting new locks. The quiet between them had changed. It was closer now. Warmer.

They returned to her cabin just after dark. Everyone else hadgone to their accomodation. Olivia had retired early, saving her strength. The fire was low, casting shadows that danced across the floor. Natalie sank into the couch, exhaustion rolling over her like a tide. Mason stood nearby, pulling off his gloves slowly, watching her.

"You okay?" he asked.

She looked up, eyes soft. "I will be."

He moved closer, sat beside her. Neither of them spoke for a while.

"You’ve done more than enough today," he said eventually.

She turned toward him. "So have you. I don’t think I would’ve gotten through any of this without you."

Their eyes met, something deeper passing between them. It wasn’t just gratitude. It was something older, truer, that had been building over weeks of shared labor, silence, and mutual trust.

"We’ve been walking this same line for a while now," she said. "Both of us circling something we were too scared to say out loud."

Mason gave her a crooked smile. "Maybe it’s time to stop walking."

Natalie reached up and touched the edge of his jaw. He closed his eyes briefly at the contact.

"I want to stop thinking," she whispered.

He leaned forward. "Then let me help."

The kiss began gently, a meeting of lips that was quiet, reverent. But it didn’t stay that way. It deepened, breath catching and releasing in unison, hands threading through hair, gripping shoulders, moving with instinct rather than plan. Mason’s palm cradled the back of her neck as Natalie shifted closer, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. They broke only for air, resting foreheads together, their eyes still closed.

"I’ve wanted this for longer than I can admit," she said.

He exhaled against her mouth. "You don’t have to. I already knew."

When they moved again, it was in sync. They stood, still holding one another, Mason’s hands steady on her waist, her fingers dragging lightly across his spine. He kissed her again, slower now, anchoring them in the moment. They crossed the room in silence, the cabin creaking softly around them, the hush of the forest wrapping the building in a kind of sacred privacy.

Mason paused by the bed as if waiting for her to change her mind. She didn’t. She reached for him instead, and he came to her like he’d been holding his breath for years. They undressed slowly, learning each other’s skin like a story they’d always meant to read. Natalie touched the scar along his ribs, and Mason kissed the hollow of her throat. Their bodies came together not in rush or desperation, but in recognition of trust, of partnership, of something both tender and fiercely alive.

The first time was unhurried, breathless, and close. They moved like they knew each other’s rhythms, like the nights spent working shoulder to shoulder had somehow choreographed this. After, she lay with her head on his chest, his arm around her waist, their legs tangled in the sheets. The firelight outside the door painted slow-moving patterns on the wall.

"You said you came here to disappear," she murmured.

He stroked her hair, his voice rough with emotion. "Now I want to be seen. By you. By this place."

She lifted her head to meet his eyes. "You are. Every part of you."

He pulled her in again, kissing her slowly, like a seal, like a promise. They made love again, deeper this time, a soft ache of connection that left nothing between them but breath and heartbeats. Long after the fire had died and the moon had crested high above the trees, Natalie drifted to sleep in his arms,her fingers still resting against his chest, as if to hold his heartbeat steady.

And Mason stayed awake for a while longer, listening to the quiet, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. For the first time in years, he wasn’t wondering what came next. He was ready for it.

With her by his side.

14

A week passed in a blur of strategy, sweat, and stubborn hope. Mason and Natalie now, officially a couple, moved through each day like twin engines of calm resolve. The days were packed with effort, fortifying the sanctuary's perimeter, fielding media calls, prepping for the community open house, and driving to schools and local organizations to share the truth of their work.

But the nights? The nights were their own. They’d fall into bed bone-tired, the weight of the day replaced by the warmth of shared breath, whispered promises, and a growing certainty that whatever came, they would face it together.

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