Page 41 of Wild Heart

“And that’s unfair, but I don’t care about him or his parents who couldn’t see what their son was and failed to teach him a life lesson. All I see is someone who stood up when it mattered. Who didn’t look away. He’s the person I care about.”

He swallowed hard, blinking against something.

“I just... I don’t want that to be the first thing people know about me."

"Then help them see the rest," she said. "Let them see the man you’re becoming, not the boy they only heard about."

He nodded slowly, and for the first time in weeks, she saw his shoulders lower. Just a little.

That night, under the stars, Natalie sat again with Mason by the fire, the shadows of old wounds still lingering, but the light between them growing stronger.

“We all have ghosts,” she said. “But we get to decide if they haunt us... or teach us.”

Mason looked at her, his eyes steady.

“And you? What have yours taught you?”

She hesitated.

“That I’m allowed to need someone,” she said. “And that it doesn’t make me weak.”

He kissed her then, gently, reverently, like the world might stop and start again in the space between them. And in some ways, it did.

16

The wind had shifted overnight, bringing with it a chill that hinted at early frost. The sun had yet to climb over the ridgeline as Natalie stood near the trailhead with her backpack slung over one shoulder, her fingers adjusting the radio clipped to her vest. Her breath fogged in the cool air. She checked the location coordinates one last time, reviewing the GPS message from a local hiker who had reported spotting a limping mountain lion cub along a ravine a few Giles northeast of the sanctuary’s marked boundary.

Olivia had wanted to send a team, but Natalie had insisted on taking the lead herself. Mason, predictably, hadn’t let her go alone.

“We’re likely looking at a cub that’s gotten separated from its mother and injured itself,” she said as he joined her. “Probably dehydrated, disoriented. But we won’t know until we get there.”

Mason handed her a thermos. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“I’m sure.”

There was no bravado in her tone, just quiet certainty. She needed this. Needed to prove to herself that she could lead, make critical decisions, and navigate difficult terrain withoutsecond-guessing. After everything with Mason, after Davey’s truth, after learning how much the town still misunderstood them, Natalie was burning with purpose.

They set out at first light, climbing the steep trail through tall pines and thickets of fir. Mason took point through the denser sections, but Natalie’s confidence grew with each step, navigating with practiced focus. An hour into the hike, they heard the first faint yowl. It echoed across the ridge, somewhere below them.

They paused, crouching beneath a low canopy of branches.

“Southwest slope,” Mason said. “Close. Maybe half a mile.”

Natalie nodded and led the way, carefully descending the loose path. The terrain shifted underfoot, gravel and loose stone. At one point, she slipped, her ankle twisting just slightly before Mason caught her.

“You alright?”

She gritted her teeth, nodded. “Fine.”

His hand lingered on her back a beat longer than necessary. Just a brush, but she felt it. The way he steadied her, not just physically, but something deeper. A kind of grounding she hadn’t realized she craved.

They reached the ravine just before midday. And there, nestled between the roots of a fallen pine, was the cub. Its leg was curled at an awkward angle, eyes glassy with exhaustion, tongue dry and cracked. It didn’t move as they approached. Natalie’s breath caught. She approached slowly, murmuring soft reassurances.

Mason unpacked the emergency crate. “If we can get it stabilized, we can carry it back halfway, then call for pickup.”

As Natalie knelt beside the cub, assessing the injury, a sharp crack echoed through the trees. Gunshot. They both froze. Then another. Distant, but unmistakable.

Natalie’s heart thundered. Mason stood, tense. “Poachers?”

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