This update was not meant to take this long. Life got in the way, unfortunately, but the chapter is here! Enjoy! This one was extra awkward to write, so I hope that doesn't translate across. As usual, I'm open for feedback.
Myles reached the cabin far slower than he had days ago. The last time, he'd been on autopilot, strung on a live wire. Now, he was far more cautious, slowly taking the turns to allow Mira to take in the changing forest. From the minute he'd turned onto the dirt track, he'd sensed her wariness.
Myles knew this path up the mountain like his own palm, having driven it for as long as he could remember. In fact, here was where he'd learned to drive. In both the best and worst condition: snow, sleet, thunderstorm, clouds, sun. As his car dipped in and out of the water-pooled potholes, he wasn't the least worried—but he knew his reassurances would fail to ease Mira's nerves, so he remained silent instead.
He remembered when they'd first built the cabin up here. It had been in the middle of their summer to make things easier, but given their version of summer was limited to occasional sun it had still been difficult to get the supplies up to the top of the mountain. By his fifth birthday, it had been completed. His parents used it as their getaway home from the pack—although it was rare for either of his parents to take any time off.
In essence of that, it had become Myles' second home more than anything. Mira would be the first, outside of his immediate family, to see it. Given the tension between them, he knew he had to go to an extreme to fix things between them. This was the solution he'd come up with. So if this is what it would take to show her that she could trust begin to trust him again, losing some of his privacy was a small sacrifice in comparison.
As he crested the top of the hill, he slowed to take the sharp right turn. From there, the track was largely a mix of mud and ice. Up this high, the snow froze for months on end, leaving the area white-capped. A couple of bends later, he reached the makeshift driveway, stopping parallel to the cabin.
"I'm going to start the fire inside," he said. "Come in when you're ready."
Mira didn't respond, but Myles wasn't expecting her to. Leaving her to take it all in, he stepped out of the drivers side, rounding to the back of the car. From the boot, he grabbed the basket of food—a mix of cheeses, dips, meat, crackers, bottled water and fruit. Then he stepped off of the dirt track, onto the front deck.
The thousand square foot cabin was built of old, mismatched timbers and pines, most of which had been taken from fallen trees within this very forest. Inside, the space was open plan, and he stopped through the barn style door, into the small, corner orientated kitchen. The oversized windows lit up the space. Off to the right was the bedroom hall. The minimalist bathroom was the divider between both rooms. Both had queen beds and dressers that held spare bedding, clothes, communication devices in lieu of cellphone reception and extra emergency supplies.
The open fire pit he was after was right in the centre. Heading that way, he made quick work of shuffling the already present logs into place. Then he added the kindling, lighting that. The flames were quick to lick up, spreading heat and a light smog throughout the open space.
When Myles heard Mira close her car door, he waited a minute. She didn't follow him in. Likely, she was getting her bearings of outside. If she wanted to, she could end up walking through the trees for hours. There were multiple tracks that had been marked out over the years. Most because of Myles, whether he shifted into fur or went exploring on two legs.
With the fire lit, he by passed by the hand-carved dining table and went out onto the back deck. The glass, by fold doors were the most modern part of the entire cabin, designed the way they were to give an unobstructed view of beyond. For good reason. And every time he stood out here, without fail, he was reminded why this deck remained his favourite spot.
His parents had picked this spot particularly for the potential placement of it. Right behind the cabin was the waterfall. The deck was built over the creek, giving a view straight across it. This time of the year, it was half in flow back down the mountain and half frozen over. He was hoping Mira would be open to wading through the creek to reach under the falls, but given how cold it was at the moment, he wasn't hedging his bets. The view of the waterfalls not even thirty feet away, the mist that sprayed through the trees and the noise of the cascading water was stunning in its own right.
"Oh." Mira's intake of breath was right at the front door. "This is amazing. When you said cabin, I thought..."
"Something more rustic?" asked Myles, without turning. "That was the idea, at one point. Then it became this. Do it well—do it once. Or something to that effect."
The cabin had been built to be entirely self-sufficient. Given that solar was too unreliable a source to run off of, the back up generators had multiple back up generators. Because of that, Myles had spent weeks up here at a time over the years, with no issues at all, even when the most brutal of snow storms rolled through.
"Is that a waterfall?"
Myles went to the large lock-up box on the deck, flicking through the key chain attack to his waist band until he found the one he needed. Lifting to the hatch, he pulled out two deck chairs and set them up. The padded cushions he found next, patting them back into shape.
"Sure is. We can walk underneath, if you're up for it. Or we can sit out here," he said, then he paused. "There's blankets I can grab if you're feeling cold."
Coming to terms with what half-human truly meant was something that would remain disorientating, he thought. He was so accustomed to what he'd always known: the mundane things he took for granted. Some of which Mira would never know. In her own words, she was too human be a shifter, yet too shifter to be human.
"I'll sit. And I have my jacket. Thank you, though."
He hated that she had reverted back to thanking him at every little moment; over things that she should have simply expected. If that wasn't a blowing red flag of the tension and static awkwardness between them, he didn't know what was.
"Did you bring any marshmallows?"
Latching the storage locker once more, Myles raised an eyebrow, caught of guard by the sudden conversation shift. "I didn't, but there's some here. Do you want them now?"
"Not yet." Mira settled into the chair on the left, crossing her legs. "I haven't toasted marshmallows since...since he died. Nowhere we went was ever safe, but in some places we could risk some exposure. Like passing through human territories for supplies or lighting a fire to keep warm at night. When we could do that, it was almost like our lives were normal. For a night. For an hour. I miss those moments as much as I miss him."
Once more, he tried to imagine himself in her situation. She'd lost both her parents in traumatic circumstances. She'd spent her life on the run, looking over her shoulder constantly. Would he have the strength to come out the other end, scarred but unbroken? Like Mira had. Like his mother had. Like his aunt, in her own right.
Myles wasn't so sure of the fact.
"I wish I could have met him," said Myles, leaning back into his own seat.
I wish I could have been there to protect you, he thought, hesitant to say it aloud. For one, it sounded ridiculous, considering he was barely older than her. For another thing, Mira wasn't a damsel for him to rescue, as much as the idea fed his ego.
"It would never have happened—even if he was still alive. In more than two decades, he never came back here, despite his history with this pack. I think he was scared to."
She had a point. If Myles ever left the pack, on good terms, he knew his parents would accept him back with open arms. On bad terms, he wouldn't have the same certainty. In desperation, he might try, but if taking the chance could end up worse than the present scenario, would it be a risk he was willing to take? And adding a daughter in the mix of that?
Rock and hard place, quite literally.
Myles linked his arms behind his head, glancing to Mira out of he corner of his eye. There was tension in the line of her hunched shoulders, her hair half-shielding her profile. The sleeves of her oversized jacket had rolled down past her wrists, covering the bracelet he knew was there.
"For what it's worth, you both would have been welcomed into the pack," said Myles. "Whatever grudges our parents may have had are long forgiven."
"I see that." The curl of her mouth was sardonic. "Now. Before all of this, I was left totally in the dark. I hate that. I really do. I understand why he kept things from me, but that doesn't mean I don't resent him for it. I can't help but wonder, what if everything had played out differently, from the beginning?"
Myles had considered the same, himself. He may well have grown up with Mira as a pack mate and friend. When, eventually their fated bond was revealed, everything would have been so much easier.
Or it might not have. He had to consider that option, as well.
What if Mira had grown with the same attitude his exes had adopted, using him to gain influence they couldn't otherwise? There was no guarantee the relationship between the two of them would have been remotely amicable.
Or that they would have met at all. So long as their secret was contained, they could have sought refuge in any pack. It wasn't the likely option, but it wasn't impossible either.
The hypotheticals were endless. Not for the first time, he'd let himself get too caught up in them, beginning to spiral. Considering the past couldn't be altered, it wasn't necessarily healthy.
For Mira, especially.
"You're here now," murmured Myles. "Looking forward is a whole lot easier than looking back."
The silence they lapped into was terse, Mira seemly at a loss of where to go from there. Myles wasn't about to push the issue and cross a boundary he couldn't step back from.
Leaving Mira to her own thoughts, he stood up. When he asked if she wanted a drink, she answered distractedly, curled on her side and staring ahead. Heading back inside, Myles checked the logs on the fire one more time, before moving to the kitchen. For himself, he grabbed a beer. For Mira, he grabbed both soda and a mixed spirit glass.
As an afterthought, he snagged a blanket on his way back outside.
Mira mumbled her thanks when he handed her both drinks, but didn't otherwise look at him. Myles didn't offence to it, retaking his own chair. The blanket, he set at his feet in a haphazard bundle. Leaning back on his elbows, he uncapped his beer, taking a long sip.
This, he decided, was it. Despite the tension between him and Mira, he wouldn't trade this moment for anything. This cabin, this waterfall, was something personal to him—and he was grateful to be able to share it with her.
Ciaran wasn't wrong, he thought, recalling the conversation they'd had days prior. When it came to Mira, he was whipped. There was next to nothing he wouldn't do if she asked—
"If we weren't fated, would I be here?"
The question, like an echo of his own mind, caught him off guard.
"An honest answer."
"I don't know what you're asking," said Myles, pivoting slightly to face her. "Would I have asked you to come here, or would you have said yes?"
"The first one." Mira, having opted for alcohol, took a sip of her bottle. "Except to all of this. The first time I stepped into pack lands and you intervened. Meeting your friends and your family. Dealing with the problems. Being there when the council..."
More than anything Myles hated that, yet again, she felt like any of this was out of obligation. "Being fated has never been the catalyst for any of this. That's as honest an answer as I can give you."
Shifting to her other side, so she faced him, Mira raised an eyebrow. "You were sleeping with someone else when you first saw me. And you're, well, you. Insanely attractive. The Alpha's son. You have everything."
Without meaning to, she'd summed up his problems in one go.
"Mira, Leanne and I, we fucked on occasion. Our committed relationship was over," said Myles, deliberately crass. Then, he sighed. "At the risk of sounding privileged, I've been a member of this pack my whole life. I've dated in a small circle. Before I met you, I was happy being single. Everyone here wants something from me, like I'm a trophy on their arm. You were different, Mira."
Under her breath, came the mutter, "I was different. Right. That's an ego boost."
Myles let out a rough breath. He'd put his foot in it, again. "You know that's what I meant."
"Explain it, then." Her gaze met his, guarded. "Please. Was I your charity case?"
"Sweetheart, no. From the second I saw you, I was attracted to you. You're beautiful. I heard your story and I was in awe of your strength and courage—I still am. Realising our bond was present came after that." Taking a leap of faith, he sat forward, reaching for Mira's hand. When she didn't pull back, he ran his thumb over the back of her palm. "I would have ended what I had with Leanne and pursued you, if you were open to it, regardless of that bond. I would never lie to you about that."
Mira stared at him was with an intensity he felt under his skin. "I want to believe all of that."
Myles mentally calculated the days. He had twenty-seven days left of his month long time frame. It was a lie to say he wasn't afraid there wasn't enough time. To each other, they were still strangers. They'd slept together, he knew some of her biggest secrets and she knew some of his, but it was the little, mundane get-to-know-you things that were absent between them.
Before he could reply, Mira mused, "I've been thinking about my role in the pack."
Myles hummed noncommittally at the conversation shift, sipping from his beer in lieu of a response.
"I like children," began Mira, biting her lip, "and I could help your mother, but I've never been around Shifter children. Aside from my father, I've never been around shifted Shifters before this pack. I don't know how I'd react to seeing that day to day."
That, Myles couldn't even begin to understand. Shifting was, and always had been, an integral part of his life. It was how he'd first met Ciaran. It was how he'd bonded with his pack as a child. Countless times, he'd spent hours with his parents, running through the forest in their shifted forms. To not have that, he couldn't imagine how incomplete he'd feel.
He squeezed Mira's hand. "My aunt is another option."
"I've considered that too. I just don't know the likelihood of that long or short term, when the pack don't know me or trust me. Acting as a pseudo medical apprentice might not go so well."
Again, that issue was coming up. One that wasn't Mira's fault, instead theirs for trying to keep her protected with the best intentions.
"You aren't a prisoner in the estate, Mira," said Myles, after considering his words. "You never have been, although I know it might have seemed like it at times. I have a second car I never use. You're free to use it whenever you'd like to navigate the pack lands. Where you go is entirely your decision. The Sentry won't restrict you from access anywhere. Explore, socialise; whatever, whenever."
Mira let go of his hand then to clasp her glass between both palms. "The last time—the first time—I was around your pack, I ran from them."
"Our pack. Your pack."
Mira's brows shot up. Her cheeks flushed as she ducked her head. "I keep forgetting that part."
Rather than call out her obvious embarrassment, he said, "There's no reason to worry about that, sweetheart. My father explained the situation. With a bullshit cover story but the result is the same. The pack are ready to give you another chance. The how and when are on your terms."
*
Hours later, the sun had begun to set. Between rounds of spontaneous, light questions and companionable silence, they shared a large bowl of stew between them for dinner. Mira had let her guard drop since they'd arrived, laughing freely now in place of shaky smiles.
As Myles dipped his damper in the stew that remained, Mira shuffled the blanket across her lap. Their laps, technically, given they both sat facing each other, knees knocking. Seeing this side of Mira again, able to relax albeit for the moment, was a relief he couldn't put into words.
The fact that she'd asked to stay the night hadn't been a complete surprise. Her asking to share the same bed, rather than seperate rooms, had been one however. She'd stipulated nothing sexual, although it hadn't even crossed Myles' mind to push that boundary.
"Can we go see to the falls," began Mira, and Myles focussed back on her, "before I lose my nerve?"
He was nodding before she even finished the question. "Let me clear dinner away first. We have enough daylight left to get there and back with plenty of time."
Rather than clean everything now, Myles grabbed the bowls, drinks and cutlery of off the table, quickly heading inside to drop it into the sink. When they got back and camped out by the fire with marshmallows, he'd wash up the dishes then.
Mira was standing when he got back, her jacket zipped up to her chin and rolled past her hands. She'd tied her hair back into a messy topknot, a few strands hanging around her face.
"Ready?" he asked, approaching.
She waved her arm out to the left. "Lead the way."
Mouth quirking into a grin, Myles went into the opposite direction she'd pointed. At the edge of the deck was the staircase that led to the forest floor. He stopped at the bottom under the shadows of the trees, waiting for Mira to step down as well. Underfoot, his boots crunched on leaf litter and tree roots.
At the bottom step, Mira scanned the forest. "How do we get there?"
"We cross the creek," Myles said simply.
"Pardon?"
No more than a metre from them, straight ahead, the creek began to flow through alongside the cabin, spanning a wide strip. The way across was as easy as hopping the rocks when the water level was low. With the recent weather, it was at its full height, knee deep in parts, although fairly calm. He knew because he'd tested it a few days ago.
Myles went to the edge of the rocks, Mira a step behind him.
"This creek?"
"This creek," he confirmed. "Whether we cross is your decision."
"I want to. Maybe." Mira bent, untying a shoe lace and toeing off her left shoe. She rolled her sock off next, stepping up besides Myles. "Let me test the water first."
On instinct, Myles went to reach out and brace Mira as she bent forward. He stopped himself short, doubting she'd appreciate the overprotective gesture. No more than two seconds after she'd dipped half her foot into the water, Mira jerked it back out with a gasp.
Her eyes were wide as she muttered, "Oh my... That's freezing. I'm not crossing through that."
"I can cary you across."
He'd said it without thought or hesitation, but the second he said it, Myles could have kicked himself.
"Carry me?" asked Mira, her tone thick with suspicion.
"If I shift, you can ride me." Myles swore under his breath, because that had not come out right. Far from it. "It was a passing though. Don't worry about it."
To her shoes, Mira said, "Your tattoo is your shifter form. A bear, correct? One big enough to eat me?"
Her deflection was solely for his benefit. That she could give, still, despite everything that had been taken from her, was just another reason he was willing to fight for her. Now and in future.
"You'd give me indigestion, sweetheart," he murmured, around a smile. "Forget I said anything—"
"Can I see you shift, at least?" asked Mira, cutting his off. "If that's okay with you. I'm... curious."
She was more than curious. Of that, he was sure. Denying her never crossed his mind. "I'll step into the water."
Mutely, Mira nodded. She gazed at him warily, expression pinched. In a tight grip, she clutched the hem of her jacket.
Myles forced his attention away from her, long enough to step into the creek. As he treaded water, finding his footing, the cold was biting but he simply gritted his teeth. Thirty seconds from now, in fur, he wouldn't feel it at all.
Only when he found a spot far enough away, did he turn back to face Mira, letting the change happen. The shift was seamless as ever, his body morphing shape. On four legs, Mira was eye level with him.
His clothes had shredded to pieces in the process of shifting. With Mira in mind, he hadn't stripped first, so now he grabbed the fabric between his teeth, dragging it across the rocks where nothing would get swept away.
Mira's exhale was thin. "Oh. You're so big."
In this form, he couldn't talk. In lieu of that, he sat back on his hind legs, cocking his head. Almost like a dog playing coy—if only he wasn't six times as big.
"This is weird," she continued, reaching out before her arm dropped. "I know you're you, but like this... it's all so surreal to believe that. And you can hear me, perfectly fine. Talking to myself like an idiot." Her voice dropped to a whisper he heard like a deep bass echo. "Get it together, Mira. Shifters shift. Into bears. And coyotes. And wolves. And birds..."
There was a part of him that found the whole situation adorable. The other part of him felt her loss like a burn. Letting out a low rumble, he took a small step forward. Mira's flinch was something she attempted to hide, but he saw it all the same. Making himself as small as possible, he took another step.
He was touching distance from her now. All she had to do was reach out, but he could see the tremor in her hand. He hoped she'd be able to take the final step and reach out. It was an issue he wouldn't force, however.
For the longest time, they stood opposite each other, neither of them daring to move another further. Then, finally, Mira reached out once more. A touch so fleeting he barely it. Then, another, over one of his ears.
"I wish I could shift with you." The tears in her eyes were a vision that would remain burned into his memory forever. "I think I'd have been a coyote too. We could run together. Maybe..."
Myles bumped his head against her legs, rumbling. A nuzzle, or as close as he could manage.
"I'm okay. Don't worry about it." Her hand on his head was soft. Still hesitant, but more of a grounding touch. "You're so soft, Myles. I wasn't expecting that. I'm honoured you'd let me see this side of you, knowing I can't give the same back."
This was enough.
Since Myles couldn't say it, he bumped her again.
Mira's answering laugh, high-spirited, was all her could have wished for.