Page 5 of His Tainted Mate

Rab took a deep breath, his keen sense of smell catching the crisp, clean scent of the wilderness that lay far beyond any city or village. He stowed both parachutes, loaded his pack, and adjusted it on his back, ensuring he had everything he needed: water, rations, and the serum that could potentially save Elle. Whether or not he would use it was another matter altogether.

His muscles tensed with anticipation, a primal energy coursing through him. He was not just any man; he was a tracker, and finding Elle was his destiny.

Rab moved with purpose, his strides long and steady. He had trained for this his entire life, honing his skills to perfection. His eyes scanned the ground for any sign of Elle’s passage—a broken twig, a footprint, anything that might lead him to her. He was patient, knowing that haste would only cost him time—he’d either miss something or misinterpret it.

The first day of his journey took him through the dense forests that were so characteristic of Tasmania. The scent of eucalyptus was strong, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest floor. Rab’s sharp eyes picked out the occasional wallaby, but his focus never wavered. Each step brought him closer to Elle, and he felt her presence growing stronger, an almost tangible connection that guided him. The buzzing in his head had become something he had to work to ignore, but there was some comfort in that, as he knew he was on the right track.

By evening, Rab reached a small clearing and decided to set up camp. The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. He gathered wood and built a small fire, the crackling flames providing warmth and light. As he ate a simple meal of dried meat and bread, his thoughts drifted to Elle. He wondered where she was at that moment, if she was safe, if maybe, somehow, she was thinking of him, too.

Sleep came fitfully that night. Rab’s dreams were filled with images of Elle, memories of their past together, and the haunting feeling he might be too late even for a claiming bite to save her. He woke before dawn to find the fire reduced to glowing embers. He quickly packed up his camp, ensured the fire was out, and resumed his journey, driven by an urgency that gnawed at his insides.

The terrain grew more challenging as he neared the foothills of Cradle Mountain. The forest became denser, the underbrush thicker. Rab’s movements were careful, deliberate. He didn’t know if Elle was skilled at covering her tracks or not, but he was confident in his abilities. He had to be. For both their sakes.

The second day of his journey brought rain, a steady drizzle that soaked the forest and made the ground slippery and his clothing wet. If he hadn’t needed his pack, Rab would have ditched it and his clothes and shifted into a snow leopard. But in some ways, he welcomed the rain, knowing that it would help mask his own scent and cover any noise he might make. The rain also brought a freshness to the air, invigorating him as he pressed on.

By midday, the rain had stopped, leaving the forest glistening with droplets. Rab paused to rest and drink from a clear stream. He splashed some water on his face, the cold liquid refreshing him. As he straightened up, his eyes caught a glimpse of something—a faint trail, almost imperceptible, leading deeper into the forest. His heart quickened. It was a sign, a clue that Elle had passed this way.

Rab followed the trail, his senses on high alert. The path was faint, but it was there, guiding him like a beacon. He moved swiftly but silently, his training kicking in. Every broken branch, every displaced stone, told a story, and Rab read it with precision.

As the sun began its descent once more, Rab found himself at the edge of a vast plateau. Cradle Mountain loomed up ahead, its jagged peaks shrouded in mist. He was getting closer. He could feel it. The connection to Elle was stronger here, almost palpable.

He set up camp again, his mind racing with thoughts of the days ahead. He was close, but the most difficult part of his journey was still to come. Rab knew that Elle would not be easy to find, nor was she going to be inclined to trust or believe in him. She was resourceful and determined, but so was he.

That night, the wind howled through the trees, and Rab’s dreams were filled with the sound of Elle’s voice calling to him. He woke with a start, the fire beside him still burning low. The sense of urgency was stronger than ever. He needed to find her, to claim her, to save her.

Rab broke camp before dawn, the first light of day barely touching the sky. He moved quickly, the rugged terrain testing his endurance. The plateau gave way to rocky inclines and dense thickets. Each step was a challenge, but Rab welcomed it. The physical exertion grounded him, kept his mind focused.

As he climbed higher, the air grew colder, the vegetation sparser. The landscape was starkly beautiful, a testament to the wild, untamed nature of Tasmania. Rab paused at a rocky outcrop, taking in the view. The valley below was a sea of green, while Cradle Mountain stood tall and imposing, its peaks disappearing into the clouds.

He spotted movement in the distance—a flash of color, quickly gone. Rab’s heart leapt. It had to be Elle—it was rare to see a deep cobalt blue color in nature. He quickened his pace, descending the rocky slope with practiced ease. The connection he felt was almost overwhelming now—the buzzing deafening—but it pulled him forward with an irresistible force.

Rab reached the bottom of the slope and entered a dense thicket. The underbrush was thick, its branches snagging at his clothes. He pushed through, driven by the need to find Elle. The thicket opened up into a small clearing, and there, at the far end, he saw her.

Elle was crouched by a stream, her back to him. Rab’s breath caught in his throat. She looked thinner, more fragile than the picture he carried, but she was still Elle. The woman he had been searching for, the woman he was destined to find.

He took a step forward, and Elle stiffened, sensing his presence. She stood slowly and turned to face him. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Rab felt a rush of emotions—relief, joy, fear. He took another step forward, but Elle shifted with the speed of light in much the way her namesake cartoon character had before vanishing into the undergrowth.

CHAPTER 4

ELLE

“I’m sorry, Elle, the DFTD has moved into the active phase of the disease,” said Dr. Hart.

“Are you sure?” Elle had asked.

“Unfortunately, I am. I’ve seen this over and over again.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. There’s nothing you can do.”

Elle sat back, too stunned to cry. The progress of DFTD from the genetic marker to the active phase of the disease was a death sentence. How long it would take from this point until her death, no one knew for certain, but there was no cure for the deadly virus that was pushing the Tasmanian devils—both shifter and purebred—to the brink of extinction.

“You sister seems to think Dr. Dixon is close to finding a cure,” said Dr. Hart, trying to reassure her.

Elle smiled. “My sister is a dreamer and a fool.”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

“Not really, but I don’t say it with any rancor. She believed that a malevolent dragon-shifter bent on ruling the world would help her save her people. Come on, doc, I quit believing in unicorns and fairytales when I was a kid.” Elle slapped her palms against the worn jeans that covered her thighs. “I guess that’s about it, then.”

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