Never Leave, A Human Mate - (Book 2 The Mist Series)

~Chapter 3 - A Spark~

~Dawn~

The stranger’s eyes—not exactly grey, not quite silver, but steel tinged with glacial blue—locked onto mine. I froze. Was this it? Was I suddenly prey, a target marked by some unseen hunter? His gaze felt like it could devour me whole, burn me to ash with its intensity.

The iron gates of the mansion slammed shut behind him, the echoing clang snapping him—and me—out of our shared trance.

“Um, I’m sorry you’re stranded,” he said, his voice a deep, smooth rumble that vibrated through the air, making my heart do a ridiculous little flutter-kick. He brushed a hand through his shock of white-blonde hair, a gesture that somehow seemed both casual and impossibly elegant. “And I don’t mean to stare… But you have beautiful eyes…”

Beautiful eyes? Seriously? My cheeks flushed, betraying my inner turmoil. My gaze flickered over him, cataloguing every detail. That hair, the colour of fallen snow, was startling against his tanned skin. His dusty grey shirt, stretched taut across his broad chest, revealed the sculpted outline of muscles that screamed physical prowess. It wasn’t just a suggestion; the man was clearly in peak condition. My eyes trailed lower, lingering on the knee-length black shorts that clung to his toned legs. And then, the double-take. No shoes. He was barefoot. Completely, utterly, unapologetically barefoot.

“Sorry, that was a little too straightforward…” He inhaled an audibly shaky breath, trying and failing to mask it. “You said your car died… Do you need help?”

I managed a nod, fumbling to slide the pencil behind my ear. My gaze was drawn back to his face, to the mature, almost ageless handsomeness. He seemed to be around my age, maybe a little older, but his skin was smooth, unmarred by the lines and wrinkles that life etched onto a person’s face. His cheekbones were high and prominent, his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. Some people just won the genetic lottery.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his steel-blue eyes holding a genuine concern.

I opened my lips to speak, but the sound died in my throat. Am I okay? Suddenly, the question felt loaded, far more complex than it should.

“Miss?” he asked, stepping closer, bridging the gap between us.

A wave of nervous heat surged back into my face. “Ah, I think so…” I pushed myself off the hood of my car, my legs suddenly unsteady, and stumbled… right into his arms. He caught me without effort, his grip strong, and helped me regain my balance.

“That was close,” he chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest, a deep, resonant vibration that sent shivers down my spine.

“I—umm…” was all I could manage. Mortified, I reached for the familiar comfort of my sketchbook, only to find… nothing. “My book…” I gaped, my eyes darting around in a frantic search. “I just had it! Where is it?”

“Here,” the stranger said, his voice closer, and almost intimately. He knelt and gathered it from the ground where it lay, its abandonment somehow mocking me. The middle page, the image I’d been working on, flipped open, and… his eyes flashed gold.

Gold? What the hell was that? I recoiled, stepping back as the intensity in his eyes seemed to amplify, burning brighter. I had never seen anything like it before. It was like looking into the heart of a furnace.

“This is the house…” He met my gaze, his expression unreadable, and offered me the book. “You drew this? Just now?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice a little shaky as I grabbed my sketchbook and clutched it against my chest, as if it could somehow shield me from this… strange man. Why was he making me feel so off-kilter? “I-I draw when I get stressed. Seeing as my car’s dead, and I’m in a strange town, and my stress levels are at an all-time high… And your house was so beautiful…” I gestured with my chin towards the mansion, my voice trailing off. “I drew it… Well, I started to. There’s still more detail I need to add. The trees need to be shaded, and I want to add to the windows at the front…” I realised I was babbling, a nervous torrent of words spilling out, and shut myself up. But he didn’t seem to mind. “Sorry, I was rambling on…”

“You’re fine, it’s fine…” He brushed his hair behind his ear again, revealing the hard lines of muscle beneath the short sleeves of his shirt. “And you’re very talented. It’s very lifelike. Sadly, that’s not my house. I live there with a family.”

“Oh,” I swallowed, the sound loud in the quiet street. “I see… Well, I stand by what I said. It’s an amazing place.” I managed a weak, anxious giggle.

The sound made him smile, a small, almost hesitant curve of his lips that sent a jolt of something unfamiliar through me.

I inwardly chastised myself. Can you be any more awkward, Dawn?

He dropped his arm and offered a hand, his palm calloused. “By the way, my name is Reece White…”

“Dawn O’Brey, it-it’s nice to meet you—” I took his hand in mine. A jolt of static electricity, sharp and unexpected, passed between us, silencing me mid-sentence. I snatched my hand back, my fingers tingling. “C-can you point me to a mechanic or someone who could fix my car?” Why am I stuttering? I’ve never been a nervous person!

“I can do one better,” Reece said, his voice low and steady, forcing me to meet his eyes again. Whatever trick of the light had caused that golden flash before was gone. They were once again silver-blue, but the intensity remained, a simmering heat that made me want to run and lean in at the same time. “I can take you to Nimble Whittle’s Automotive. The owner, Jack, is a friend of the family. He should be able to help.”

“That would be amazing.” It took a conscious effort to tear my gaze away from him. “Thank you…”

“I’m happy to help…”

Swallowing that persistent, fluttery breath, I tossed the sketchbook back inside the car, snatched up my phone and keys, and returned to Reece. Yet again, I was taken aback by his eyes. They were borderline deep amber now, a rich, almost honeyed hue that stole my breath away. What in the world has gotten into me?

Reece shook his head slightly, as if clearing his own thoughts, and the amber tint vanished, leaving behind the familiar steel-blue. “It’s a two-minute walk at the most.” He gestured to the street stretching out ahead of us.

Up ahead, people milled about, going about their daily routines. The earlier wolf howls had ceased, and no one seemed particularly fazed by them. The Mist was a beautiful and pleasant town, just as I had initially thought. Maybe someone had just had their TV turned up too loud…

“We can go…” Reece interrupted my internal monologue. “If you’re ready.”

I glanced down at his feet. “Without shoes?”

He seemed amused by my curiosity. A playful glint flickered in his eyes. He wiggled his toes. “I’m used to it…”

“Oh, I see,” I chuckled, finally looking up at him without feeling like I was about to short-circuit.

I couldn’t help but notice how his perfectly sculpted muscles seemed to bulge even more through the fabric of his shirt now. The image of reaching out, touching him, feeling the warmth of his chest against my hands, flashed unbidden through my mind. I banished those thoughts. Behave yourself, Dawn!

It had been two long years since I had been with a man… two years since my beloved husband of eighteen years, Nate, had died in a tragic car accident. Nate and I had been inseparable, and we raised our son, James, together. Now that James was a young man, independent, and thriving at university, I could finally break away from my stress and travel the country. And here I was, stranded in this perfect town, with this perfect stranger who looked like he could give a thirty-year-old Johnny Depp a run for his money. Something was intriguing about Reece, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

I laughed softly, a nervous, self-deprecating sound. Calm down, woman!

“You have a delightful laugh…” Reece commented, his words pulling me back from the edge of my swirling thoughts.

Nervously, I turned away from him and headed for the main street. “We should go…”

“Of course…” he said, hurrying to catch up, his bare feet making almost no sound on the pavement.

Why does he make me feel so weird? I eyed him sideways again, trying to decipher the enigma that was Reece White. He caught me looking, and this time, I didn’t quickly turn away. I held his gaze, a silent question hanging in the air between us.

The air was warm and fragrant, thick with the exotic scents of blooming lavender and something else… something sweet and spicy I couldn’t quite place. It was comforting, a gentle caress to my frayed nerves as we walked past a bustling restaurant overflowing with locals. Laughter and the clatter of cutlery spilled out onto the street, painting a vibrant picture of community. I saw a florist bursting with colour, a bakery radiating the comforting aroma of warm bread, and small clothing stores displaying bolts of brightly coloured fabric. Just beyond it, we passed Lee’s Wholesalers, a large store for bulk food, where no single aisle was empty—a testament to the town’s self-sufficiency.

“Luis Lee sells the best oranges…” Reece commented when he saw my eyes wandering over the overflowing stalls of fruit. “They’re sweet and juicy…”

Sweet… I thought with a sly smirk, eying Reece sideways again. The word hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications. He met my glance, his eyes a startling shade of amber that seemed to glow in the dappled sunlight, and my body sobered. The playful smirk died on my lips, replaced by a sudden, unexpected awareness. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to look away. Pull yourself together, Dawn. Seriously! You’ve known the guy for, like, an hour!

“Whittle’s is just around the corner…” he said, his voice quavering. Why was he so nervous? Had he felt the same sudden jolt of… something?

We headed down ‘First Street’, and a large, rectangular building came into view. It looked more like a fortified compound than a mechanic’s shop. A few older, beat-up cars sat outside the tall metal fence, while two newer cars and the skeletal remains of a motorbike sat inside the dirt-covered yard. The rich, pungent smell of oil and petrol hung heavy in the air, a symphony of mechanical grit. As we approached the open shed, a man with oil-streaked brown hair that matched his perpetually oil-stained shirt waved at us.

“Beta Reece!” The man, who I guessed was Jack, called out, bowing his head slightly in Reece’s direction. It was a strange, almost deferential gesture.

Beta? I scratched my head, thoroughly confused. Was Reece in the army? Or some kind of secret society? It’s a strange nickname to call someone, especially with that weird bow.

“What beings you here?” Jack turned his attention to me, his eyes narrowed with curiosity. “And who is this lady?”

Reece and Jack shared a long, silent look, a conversation passing between them without a single word. Jack nodded in understanding, the tension easing from his shoulders.

Reece cleared his throat, gathering his thoughts. “This is Dawn. Her car broke down outside of the p—the house. I was hoping you could have a look at it.”

P—House? I scratched my head again, my confusion deepening with each passing second. This place was full of strange nicknames for everything. What was the deal with this place?

Jack straightened up and nodded, his expression becoming more professional. “Yes, I can do that. Be- I mean Reece. Let me grab a few things, and we can have a look at it.”

“Thank you,” Reece said, a hint of relief in his voice as Jack spun on his heels and hurried back inside the cluttered shed.

I turned back to Reece, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. “Were you in the army?”

He raised a curious eyebrow at me, his amber eyes glinting in the sunlight. “Army? Why would you say that?”

“Jack called you Beta…” I brushed my hair behind my ears, adjusting the pencil I’d stuck there earlier. His eyes flashed a haunting hue of amber again, holding my gaze captive. “Is that army related or…?”

He shifted uncomfortably, his simple confidence faltering before he responded. “It’s a running nickname I have around here. I grew up with three guys, and our families went back centuries together, and we became Alpha, Beta, and Gamma… Those names stuck.” His face flushed, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheekbones. “I must sound silly…”

“No,” I smiled up at him, the warmth of the gesture genuine. He was at least a couple of inches taller than me, and I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “It’s kind of… adorable.” The word slipped out before I could stop it, and a wave of heat washed over my face.

He stepped closer, breaching the already minimal gap between us. My heart skipped a beat, and I had to resist the urge to step back. “I like your smile… It’s an honest smile.” His voice was low and husky, sending shivers down my spine.

Now, it was my turn to flush. “Um, thanks…” I stammered, my carefully constructed composure crumbling around the edges.

“Okay, I’m re—” Jack cut off his sentence abruptly, his eyes widening when he spotted how close Reece and I were standing. “Sorry to interrupt…”

“No, you didn’t interrupt…” I replied quickly, perhaps a little too quickly, stepping away from Reece as if I’d been burned. “I’m ready to go…” The urgency in my voice was impossible to miss. I needed to focus on my car, on getting out of this strange, captivating town, before I did something foolish. Before I lost my head to the enigmatic Reece White.