Chapter 8
Daniel
Snow fell soft as ash, erasing his tracks.
If only life were so simple.
Daniel stood at the edge of the grove, fists clenched, breath steaming. He’d left the lodge hours ago and was still struggling to figure out what had driven him outside.
Matthew hadn’t followed.
Not then.
But now?
The bond mark beneath his collarbone throbbed. Not painfully. Not deeply. Just… insistently. Like it had caught the echo of something wounded. Something missing.
A low growl bubbled up in his throat, caught between bear and man as he struggled to piece together his emotions. He was so close to having everything he’d ever wanted—a mate and a family. Yet here he was, aimlessly walking, still without a solution.
Earlier, he’d let his bear take over. Pushed to the surface, exerted dominance, and ran—his paws sinking into crisp snow. As if he could outrun his problems.
But he couldn’t.
Their bond, a constant companion, had pushed him to return.
He hadn’t let that mark surface in years. Not since the snowbound vow. Not since Matthew vanished before they could finish it. But it had lingered in his blood, dormant—an ember under scar tissue, buried deep.
And now, it blazed.
Pushing his body to transform, he shifted back to human form.
Staggering, he reached for a tree trunk, staring down at his chest. His skin lit—gold streaks threading like fire veins over his heart. The mark shimmered, etched in claw and vine.
“No,” he whispered to no one. “I buried this.”
But it pulsed again. Faster. Matching his heartbeat.
Deep in his heart, he knew their bond couldn’t be denied—no matter how hard he’d tried to will it away.
Then—footsteps. Familiar. Light. Resolute.
Matthew.
He stepped into the grove, coat soaked, amber eyes gleaming in the moonlight. He said nothing—but the silence hit harder than words.
Daniel’s throat worked around the growl.
“You left,” he said, voice cracked. “You tore out the truth and left me bleeding under it.”
Matthew’s eyes flicked to Daniel’s chest. The mark. Glowing.
“I didn’t know it would survive,” he whispered. “I thought we’d killed it the night we walked away.”
Daniel barked a bitter laugh. “We walked away? That’s not how I remember it. You don’t kill something forged in vow and blood, Matthew. You starve it. And it burns more slowly. Waiting.”
They stared at each other.
Then—Matthew reached out, pressing his palm against the mark.
It flared like dawn.
Daniel gasped—his shift clawing at his skin, his bear roaring beneath his ribs. Not for violence. For recognition.
Their bond—unfinished, half-spoken—yearned for completion.
“We should go back?”
“Back to the cabin, or to the city?” Matthew asked, his voice calm, almost teasingly.
“Both,” Daniel reasoned. “I’m going to need clothes before we head out.”
“Oh,” Matthew murmured, a blush rising to the tips of his ears as his eyes swept over Daniel’s naked body. “I think you look fine as you are.”
Daniel snorted—half laugh, half grunted—his gaze catching on the prominent bulge in his mate’s pants.
“I can see you do. But I don’t think the cops will feel that way when they arrest me for public indecency.”
Hand in hand, they walked back to the lodge in comfortable silence, both lost in thought.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the familiar path, the towering pines rustling softly in the breeze.
The air, still crisp from the morning’s chill, carried the scent of pine needles and damp earth—a fragrance they’d both come to associate with peace.
Matthew’s boots crunched rhythmically through the snow, the only sound.
The lodge, with its welcoming lights and promise of warmth, loomed into view.
It was sometime later, after they’d showered and dressed in warm clothes, that Daniel stood with keys in hand, waiting for Matthew to gather his things.
Now that his restless emotions had calmed, he could think more clearly.
Completing the ritual—solidifying the Hollow Moon bond—had healed them both of the wounds their years of separation had caused.
It was possible it might solve the Claudia problem too.
All he needed now was to track down the elusive lorekeeper of the ancient rites—and convince him to help.