Chapter 5 Chance
Chance
I yanked open the bakery's back door so hard the bell nearly flew off. I needed space, and the kitchen was the only place in Laurel Gap where I could be private. Caden roared in my skull with every step. I slammed the door behind me and started pacing, hands flexing open and closed.
The stainless-steel counters gleamed under the kitchen lights, all neat and perfect.
Not for long. I slammed my hand into the nearest surface, hard enough to make the pans jump and clatter.
Caden wanted out. He shoved at every boundary, sick of waiting, sick of being ignored.
My pulse was still hammering from the way she'd looked standing in that crowd.
Cheeks flushed, hair mussed from the wind, eyes sharp as ever.
It was sensory overload, memory and desire hitting like a two-by-four.
You saw them, he snarled. Each word dug claws into my head. Both of them. Our blood and bone. We need to search for them.
I shook my head. "I don't know how it's possible." My hands curled around the edge of the counter, and I squeezed to keep from hitting something else.
I turned, fists at my sides, and stalked back along the prep table.
The smell of orange and hot sugar clung everywhere.
Maeve's breakfast buns, probably cooling on the racks.
The kitchen looked like a warzone, flour dust swirling in the air where I'd knocked over a bag. It covered the tile around my boots.
Caden didn't care about the mess. He only cared about the girls. He shoved the memory in front of me again, sharper this time. Brown eyes that caught everything. The line of a jaw I'd seen before, seventeen years ago, pressed to the pillow next to mine.
You saw them. You smelled the truth.
The teenager with the auburn curls and the storm in her eyes, the other girl holding her hand like she needed an anchor. I'd barely gotten a look before Caden went berserk.
His ferocity didn't make it less crazy.
"This is unheard of," I muttered. But even saying it, I couldn't shake the imprint she'd left on me so many years ago. The scent of her skin, the way she'd pressed against me like she trusted every part of me that night.
Doesn't matter.
"Dragons haven't reproduced with humans in centuries. We've got records, we've got—" I broke off, too worked up to even think straight.
They're yours, Caden insisted. Rare and impossible are just words. It's them. Our daughters.
The word stuck in my heart. Daughters. But behind that revelation lurked something more primal.
The instinct to get close to her again, to close the seventeen-year gap and breathe her in until the ache finally let go.
I paced harder, chest tight, my whole body pulsing with heat.
My scales itched under my skin, wanting to break free.
This kitchen wasn't built for dragons like at my family's home.
I'd rip the place apart if I let Caden even halfway out.
I tried to block him. I tried logic. "If it were possible, Mother would've told us. Plus, I only slept with her once. How?"
He growled. Only takes once. You remember her. You still dream about her.
I spun and knocked over another bag of flour. A plume shot up and settled all over my arms, my shirt, and the counter. The sound must've carried, because Maeve's head popped around the corner, eyebrows climbing for her hairline.
She stopped dead, holding a tray of thumbprint cookies. "What the hell, Chance? Why are you destroying the kitchen? What about the sample table?"
I didn't even try to pull it together. "I gotta talk to you, Maeve. It's—" I cut myself off, suddenly all shaky.
She looked me over, really looked. I probably looked psychotic, covered in sweat, and now dusted like a powdered donut. She set down her tray with a thunk and folded her arms across her apron.
"You scare off the health inspector? Did Damon call needing bail again?"
I shook my head. "Nobody's in jail."
Caden snarled. Get to the damn point.
Maeve stepped closer, taking inventory. She got this hard set to her jaw when things were about to go sideways.
"You're freaking me out, Chance. Just tell me."
I choked on the words. They sounded insane, even in my own head. "I saw her. Tash. And her daughters." Saying it out loud made it worse, somehow. She'd looked even better than I remembered. Stronger. Softer. Beautiful in a way I hadn't let myself think about for years.
Maeve stared, blinking slowly. "The lady who has been coming into the bakery lately? Yeah, I've met her twins. What about it?"
I scrubbed a hand over my face, but the memory of Tash's smile still tingled along my skin like static.
This wasn't just shock. It was desire waking up after being dead too long.
I swallowed hard. "They're mine. Caden says so, and I think he's right.
" My hands shook, so I jammed them in my pockets. "When I saw them—"
Maeve's eyes bugged out so far out I thought she might faint. "Chance. You're not making sense. That's not possible. We can't…" She stopped, searching my face. "Caden's sure?"
"Yes." I pressed both hands to my temples and slumped against the freezer, the steel cold even through my shirt.
Maeve's face ran through a myriad of emotions. "You're telling me you got that girl pregnant seventeen years ago and just found out?"
I scowled at her. "Yes. I didn't know her last name, and then I went back to school, and then we all had to get out of town, remember?"
Maeve snorted, soft but sharp. "True. You didn't get her full name? How romantic."
That stung, but she wasn't wrong.
I pushed off the counter and started pacing again. "I need to find her. Do you know where she lives, Mae?"
She leaned back against the fridge, arms locked across her chest. "No, but Damon could help you find her, especially if there are kids. Even if the chance of that is, like, a billion to one."
"I should play the lottery," I muttered.
I couldn't even think about that. I had children. Children that she'd kept away from me. Had she even tried to find me?
Maeve shook her head, looking rattled. "She comes by pretty regularly, too. If nothing else, just stick around here. You'll see her again."
Caden leapt on the thought triumphantly. He slammed the memory around in my mind again. Tash's dark hair, her laugh, the press of her body under mine. The way she'd looked the next morning.
Maeve clicked her tongue, watching me unravel. "Let's say, for argument's sake, you're right. What the hell are you gonna do?"
I shook my head. "I don't know. Talk to her. Try not to pass out before I get an answer."
She cracked a smile. "You, lose your nerve? Not likely."
I opened my mouth, but the bell over the front door echoed into the kitchen.
Maeve went rigid. "Shit," she hissed. "That's Aunt Livia. We were going to walk down and watch the parade together."
My mother swept in with a blast of autumn mountain air.
The smell of her perfume hit before the wool of her coat even cleared the door.
Shopping bags bulged from both arms. Probably more parade snacks and whatever else she'd decided the house needed in the last hour.
She shut the door with a crisp click and tip-tapped past the knocked-over flour, barely even blinking at the mess.
I didn't wait. "Mother. I saw two girls today that Caden says are mine. They were with Tash, a woman I knew seventeen years ago. Do you know anything about humans and dragons having children together?"
Her entire body froze. Mom never froze. Her poker face could make a dragon shifter rethink a bet, but the color drained out of her cheeks, leaving her skin pale against the sharp black of her coat. The shopping bags sagged from her fingers, then thudded to the tile.
She stared at them, lips parting like she couldn't catch her breath. "Caden says they're yours?" she whispered. "Caden?"
I tried not to snarl at her. "Yes. Caden." Our dragons had senses about these things that were stronger than any DNA test.
"She came to the house," Mom said at a level so low it was quieter than a whisper. If I hadn't had dragon senses, I wouldn't have been able to hear her. "Years ago. She wanted to see you, and I told her you weren't home."
I gripped the counter so hard the metal bit into my palms. Caden surged up, hungry for every detail.
Mom wrung her hands, twisting her rings. "She said… she said she was pregnant. With your child." She looked up without seeing me. "I told her it wasn't possible. We all know dragons and humans aren't fertile, except in some old wives' tales. So I tried to send her on her way."
She hesitated. "She wouldn't leave. She insisted the baby was yours.
" Mom's hands shook. I'd never seen them do that, not once, not even when Dad died.
"I gave her money to start over somewhere else.
I thought—" She finally looked at me, and the pain there knocked me sideways.
"I thought whoever really got her in trouble had to be a terrible person.
Anyone would want you as a father for their children, you know that?
It made sense. She had to be lying. Or it could've been she'd had sex with you and another man and honestly thought it might be you. "
Maeve just stood there, rooted to the floor, eyes huge and mouth shut. Even she was out of smartass commentary.
Mom's phone buzzed, sharp and insistent, but for once she didn't even glance at it.
She slid it into her pocket, fingers still trembling, and went on.
"I thought she'd be safe if I helped her.
She looked so young. I didn't want her to suffer, not on the off chance she was there because she truly believed you were the father. " Her head bowed. "I paid her off."
Rage poured through me, fast and bright. Caden howled, a predator denied, and the heat inside me shot up so high I could almost taste scorched sugar.
I flexed my hands, knuckles popping. "You didn't think to ask me?" My eyes lit up with dragon fire. I could see it reflected in the steel drawers and the glass cases. The kitchen grew hotter, actually steaming.
Maeve started backing up. She nearly tripped over a rack of cookies, sending a couple of peanut butter blossoms skittering to the floor. "I just remembered I left, er, something. In the oven. In Nashville." She ducked out, feet pounding down the hall, the swinging door flapping behind her.
Mother didn't move, but her arms curled tight around her middle. She'd shrunk, just a little, but I didn't miss it.
"I made a decision," she said, small and flat. "I thought I was protecting you. There are hunters, Chance. There always were. I didn't want a stranger showing up here—"
"You paid her off, and you didn't tell me." My words came out as shredded as my emotions.
She winced. "I thought it was best. You were barely more than a boy. The Order was sniffing around. Damon—"
I cut her off. "You still should've told me."
She nodded, quick and jerky. "You're right. I'm sorry. I never imagined—" She gave a little laugh, empty as a broken eggshell. "It doesn't matter what I imagined. Clearly, I was wrong."
The silence built, smothering me. At the front end, Maeve hustled a customer out the door, but everything sounded muffled under the pressure in my head.
Caden wanted out. He wanted to shift, to hunt, to claim what was his. I almost let him. The only thing keeping him in check was the grief and misery on Mom's face.
Both of us were angry, but seeing her crushed like that worried me.
She tried to recover, straightening her lapels like that would put her back in charge. It wouldn't. "I have the paperwork. When I get home, I'll send you her name and the address I had for her back then."
I barely heard her. The only thing bouncing off the inside of my skull was the image of those girls at the parade.
I stepped into her space, crowding her so she had to tilt her chin up to meet my eyes.
"You broke her heart. You broke mine." I sucked in a breath. I couldn't stand to look at my mother right now. "Leave."
Mom faltered. She'd never looked so lost, not even at Dad's funeral. I thought she might argue, but she swallowed her pride, gathered her bags one by one, and walked out.
My hands shook, and my shirt stuck to my back with sweat. I braced myself over the sink. Caden paced under my skin, but he was finally settling. Somewhat.
I dried my hands, then dug my phone out of my pocket and looked at the photo I took at the parade.
The girls, side by side, scowling at the camera.
I zoomed in on the dark-haired one. There was something in the line of her jaw, the shape of her mouth.
So familiar. My heart thudded as I stared.
Tash's daughter, yes, but it crossed with another memory.
I pulled the laptop over and fired it up. The family drive loaded as slowly as molasses, but I kept scrolling. Old photos. Christmases, birthdays, vacation shots in grainy color.
I found it. Mom at sixteen, hair wild down her back, all stubborn pride and too-big eyes. I dragged the two pictures side by side on the screen.
It was like staring at a mirror, if one split by four decades. Tash's daughter had Mom's face. She had my mother's face.
The proof crushed the last of my doubts and left me reeling.
Told you. Caden sang the words.