Chapter 10
Mira
Five Years Later…
“Don’t let her eat the flower!” I call as Ansel chases our daughter across the backyard.
“I’m trying!” he shouts back, laughing as two-year-old Maisie squeals and toddles away from him as fast as her chubby legs can carry her.
She still has the bright yellow dandelion clutched in one fist. Every few steps, she tries to shove it into her mouth, but she can’t quite manage it while running. I press a hand to my belly and laugh as Ansel finally catches her, sweeping her into his arms.
“Got you, little cub.”
“No!” Maisie cries, giggling as he nuzzles her round cheek. “Down, Daddy!”
“You were about to eat a flower.”
“Yummy.”
“It is not yummy.”
“Daddy try,” Maisie says as she holds it out to him.
Ansel looks over at me.
I raise an eyebrow. “You heard your daughter,” I tease. “Daddy has to try it.”
He narrows his eyes at me, but a smile tugs at his lips. He pretends to take a bite, making an exaggerated gagging sound. Maisie dissolves into laughter, dropping the flower as she claps her hands.
My chest warms at the sight of them.
Five years ago, I didn’t know what a real home felt like. I thought it was four walls kept so clean and cold that no one could ever get comfortable inside them. I thought family meant people who shared your name but never shared their hearts.
Then I woke up in the back of a truck, ran through a forest, and crashed straight into Ansel.
My life has never been quiet since.
Thank God.
Ansel carries Maisie over to the blanket beneath the trees. Our four-year-old son, Ben, is lying on his stomach beside me, studying a line of ants with complete fascination. He inherited Ansel’s brown eyes and my black hair, along with enough energy for three children.
“Mom,” Ben whispers urgently. “They’re carrying crumbs.”
“I see that.”
“They’re really strong.”
“They are.”
“Stronger than Daddy’s bear?”
I glance up at my giant husband. “Definitely.”
Ansel snorts as he settles Maisie on the blanket. “Your mother is telling stories again.”
“I never tell stories.”
“Last night, you told them I screamed when I saw a spider in the bathtub.”
“You did scream.”
“I was startled.”
“It was the size of my fingernail.”
“It moved fast,” he mutters.
Ben and Maisie giggle.
Ansel leans over to kiss me. His lips brush mine softly at first, then linger. Even after five years, one kiss from him is enough to make my heart race.
“Ew,” Ben groans.
Ansel pulls back to grin at him. “You’d better get used to it. I plan on kissing your mom for the rest of my life.”
My mating mark tingles at the promise. I run my fingers over the matching mark at the base of his neck, and his eyes darken.
A car door slams out front, followed by the sound of someone coming around the side of the house.
“Aunt Ridley!” Ben yells, scrambling to his feet.
Ridley barely has time to open the gate before both children launch themselves at her. She laughs, crouching to catch them. Her mate, Julian, stands over them, watching the scene with a smile on his face and a baby on his hip.
“There are my two favorite monsters!” Ridley says.
“We’re cubs,” Ben corrects her.
“Even better.”
I smile as I watch my best friend hug them.
Ridley came home bruised and furious, but alive.
Now she helps run Midnight Haven, spending her days tracking fake job listings and talking to rescued women, making sure no one has to figure out what comes next alone.
I work beside her three days a week when I’m not teaching at the elementary school in town.
It wasn’t the overseas adventure we planned, but it matters. Maybe even more.
Ridley joins us on the blanket and hands me a small gift bag. “Happy anniversary.”
“You didn’t have to get us anything,” I protest.
“I know. Open it.”
Inside is a little wooden sign. Five names are painted across it beneath a row of bears: Ansel, Mira, Ben, Maisie, and Baby.
I stare at the last word. “How did you know?”
Ridley gives me a flat look. “You threw up in my trash can yesterday and cried because the coffee maker was too smelly. I put it together.”
Ansel goes completely still beside me. Slowly, I turn toward him.
His eyes are wide, fixed on my stomach. “Baby?”
I bite back a smile. I had a whole plan for telling him tonight after the kids went to sleep. I should’ve known Ridley would ruin it.
“Baby,” I confirm.
His bear roars so loudly inside the bond that I burst out laughing. Ansel lifts me onto his lap, one huge hand spreading protectively over my still-flat stomach.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough.
“I went to see Christian this morning. Eight weeks.”
His eyes shine. “Another cub.”
“Another cub,” I agree, leaning my forehead against his.
“Cub,” Maisie announces.
Ben presses his ear to my belly. “Can it hear me?”
“Not yet.”
“I’m going to teach it how to be a bear.”
“And I’ll teach it how to eat flowers,” Ridley adds.
Ansel growls at her, making the kids laugh again. He wraps an arm around them, pulling all three of us close. Ridley leans into the pile too, and for a moment, I’m surrounded by the people I love most in the world.
This is what I wanted that morning five years ago, even if I didn’t have the words for it then.
Love. Laughter. Happiness. Adventure. Ansel gave me all of it, but he was wrong about one thing.
He always says he only wanted me. He wanted this too.
A home filled with noise. Children racing through every room.
Friends and family dropping by without knocking.
A mate who steals the blankets and leaves books all over the house.
A life so full that there isn’t room for loneliness.
Later, after Ridley and Julian leave and we tuck the kids into bed, Ansel takes my hand and leads me out the back door.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You’ll see.”
He guides me along the trail through the trees. The full moon paints everything silver, and my mating mark warms as I remember another full moon, another night when I gave him my heart completely.
We reach his favorite spot, the little clearing where he proposed to me. A blanket is spread beneath the stars, surrounded by tiny lights.
“You did all this?”
“With help.”
“Russo?”
“Ever.” He snorts. “Russo has no sense of romance.”
I laugh as he pulls me into his arms.
“Happy anniversary, Angel.”
“Happy anniversary, teddy bear.”
He groans. “You’re never going to stop calling me that, are you?”
“Never.”
“Good.” His expression softens as he cups my face. “Are you happy?”
The question catches me off guard. Not because I don’t know the answer, but because he still asks.
After five years, he still checks. He still pays attention to what I need.
He still carries me whenever he gets the chance, even though I insist I can walk.
He still wakes in the night and reaches for me, as if he needs to make sure I’m safe and still there.
I rise onto my toes and kiss him. “I’m happier than I knew a person could be.”
His arms tighten around me, shielding me from the cool night air.
Once, Ansel stood between me and danger. He took a bullet to keep me safe before he even knew my name, but that isn’t the reason I love him.
I love him because he showed me that being protected doesn’t mean being trapped. It means having someone beside you when the world is frightening. Someone who gives you the courage to choose your own path because you know you won’t have to walk it alone.
He gave me his strength, he gave me his heart, and in his arms, I finally found my way home.