Chapter Nineteen – Daniel
Daniel woke with a jolt, his neck stiff from the awkward angle. Something was wrong. No, not wrong…no, forgotten. He’d forgotten something important.
His bear stirred immediately. Yes. You forgot to tell Holly she is our mate.
Damn it, Daniel muttered, sitting upright and running a hand through his hair. The blanket nest around him was warm, but empty. I didn’t forget. I fell asleep.
You did, his bear confirmed unhelpfully.
Daniel cursed under his breath, the memories flooding back. He’d been about to tell her everything—about shifters, about mates, about how she belonged here with him and the kids. Then Teddy had called for her…
The rest was a blank.
Because you fell asleep, his bear grumbled.
How could I? Daniel groaned, rubbing his eyes. How could I have fallen asleep right when I was about to tell Holly we’re mates?
I don’t know, his bear replied, but you did.
A sound from the kitchen caught his attention, the gentle clink of a pan, the soft hiss of something cooking.
Holly was awake. His heart lifted at the thought of seeing her, then stuttered when he registered the time on the clock.
Nearly seven. The kids would be up soon. And he had to get to the bakery…
Daniel scrambled out of the covers, his legs tangled momentarily in the quilt she must have draped over him. The gesture made him smile. She’d taken care of him, just as she’d taken care of the kids.
His tension eased. She would understand. She would not take offense at him falling asleep on her. He’d get another chance to tell her the truth today.
He padded into the kitchen, suddenly aware of his rumpled appearance. Holly stood at the stove, her back to him, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. She was already dressed in jeans and one of his sweatshirts. The sight made his bear rumble with possessive pleasure.
“Morning,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep.
Holly turned, spatula in hand, and offered him a tired smile. There were shadows under her eyes that hadn’t been there yesterday, and her movements lacked their usual energy.
“You’re up,” she said. “I was going to bring you breakfast on the sofa, but you beat me to it.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Daniel moved closer, drawn to her by that invisible connection they shared. “Did you sleep okay?”
Holly shrugged, turning back to the pancake. “Not really. Too many thoughts.” The words were soft, almost lost beneath the sizzle of the pan.
Daniel heard the unspoken question hanging in the air between them: What were you going to tell me last night?
He moved to the coffee pot, pouring two mugs of the rich, dark brew. His hands were steady, though his heart raced. This was his chance to make things right, to say what he’d fallen asleep before saying last night.
He placed one mug on the counter beside her and took a seat at the counter.
Holly flipped the last pancake onto a waiting plate and joined him, sliding onto the stool next to his.
Their knees brushed beneath the counter, and Daniel fought the urge to lean into the contact even though it took all his self-control.
Tell her, his bear insisted, more forcefully than before. Now.
Daniel set his fork down, gathering courage. He turned toward Holly, who was staring into her coffee as if it might contain answers to questions she hadn’t asked.
“Can we talk later today?” he murmured, leaning closer. “At lunch? Somewhere private.”
Holly straightened, her eyes meeting his. Something flickered across her face—hope, unmistakable even to him—and Daniel’s breath caught in his throat.
He had no doubt she was ready to learn the truth, ready to accept him for who he was.
“Pine Hollow Lookout,” he continued, naming the place he’d chosen carefully. The quiet ridge above town was isolated enough that he could safely shift and show her the truth without fear of discovery. “It’s beautiful up there, and we’d have privacy.”
“I’d like that,” Holly said, with a slight tremble in her voice. “I can meet you there after I pick up my car.” She offered a smile that was equal parts anticipation and nervousness.
“Your car.” Daniel’s heart stuttered. What if she were picking up her car so that she could leave town?
No, his bear said firmly. She is staying.
Before Holly could elaborate, there was the usual thunder of footsteps on the stairs that meant the kids were awake and on their way downstairs. Maisie appeared first, her hair still mussed from sleep, followed closely by Teddy, who was somehow wearing his shirt backward.
“PANCAKES!” Teddy shouted, climbing onto a stool.
“I hope you like them.” Holly rose to help the kids with their breakfast.
“I love pancakes,” Maisie said.
“Me too!” Teddy agreed. “With maple syrup.”
“Of course.”
Daniel watched as she gently turned Teddy’s shirt the right way around, as she helped Maisie with the syrup, as she seamlessly fit herself into the morning chaos of their family.
This was how it should be. This was how it would be, after today.
Daniel pictured them at Pine Hollow—Holly’s face as he shifted, her awe, her acceptance.
He’d explain everything, about how bear shifters recognized their mates instantly, about how rare and precious that connection was.
He’d tell her how the children already loved her, how she’d carved out a space for herself in their lives that no one else could fill.
Everything in him said: This is our turning point.
But then, his bear bristled, a low growl rumbling through his chest. Daniel froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. Something was wrong. He sensed it before he could name it—someone outside. Footsteps crunched up the snowy path to the front door.
His heart sank even before the knock came on the door, a sense of impending doom settling over him. He rose from his stool, anxiety churning in his gut.
“I’ll get it,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended.
He moved to the door, aware of how rumpled he looked, of the stubble on his jaw, of the sleep still clinging to the corners of his eyes. His bear paced anxiously within him, sensing a threat.
Daniel pulled open the door, subtly positioning himself to block the view into the house, to shield the children from whatever—whoever—waited on the other side. The protective instinct rose in him like a tide.
A man stood on the porch, tall and polished in a way that seemed out of place against the snowy backdrop of Bear Creek. He wore an expensive coat and leather gloves, his shoes were clearly not made for the weather.
“Hi,” the stranger said, his breath clouding in the cold air. “I’m Andrew. I’m looking for Holly. Someone in town told me I could find her here.”
Daniel wanted to say no, to claim this man had the wrong house, to shut the door and return to the warm kitchen where Holly was pouring syrup for Teddy, and everything was perfect. But before he could speak, he felt Holly’s presence behind him.
“Andrew,” she said, her voice so different from how it had sounded minutes ago. “What are you doing here?”
Andrew exhaled slowly. “We need to talk, Holly.”
Daniel felt Holly move past him, felt the brush of her arm against his as she slipped on her red coat that hung beside his on the rack. The sight of it there had given him so much joy just yesterday. Now it felt like a reminder of how easily she could leave.
“Teddy, Maisie, have a good day at school,” Holly said, her voice gentle but strained. She glanced at Daniel, her expression unreadable, a mask that hadn’t been there before. “I’ll meet you later,” she whispered to him.
Daniel nodded, though it felt like his heart was being ripped in two. Holly hesitated, just once, looking back at Daniel before she stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind her, leaving him standing in the entryway with the echo of a promise he wasn’t sure she’d keep.
Behind him, a small voice broke the silence.
“Do you think she’ll come back?” Teddy whispered.
Daniel turned around, and his heart broke. Teddy’s lower lip quivered, his eyes wide with worry. Maisie stood beside him, her expression unreadable, her hands gripping her brother’s shoulders.
The sight of them, so vulnerable, so uncertain, cut through Daniel’s own shock. He crossed the space between them in three long strides and kneeled, bringing himself to their level. His knees hit the hardwood floor with more force than he intended, but he barely felt it.
“I don’t know, buddy,” Daniel said, forcing his breathing to remain steady despite the vise squeezing his chest. He wouldn’t lie to them. Not about this. Not when they’d already lost so much in their short lives.
But Maisie lifted her chin, her eyes fierce and certain in a way that reminded Daniel so much of himself when he’d first decided to fight for custody.
“She will,” she said, her voice stronger than her slight frame suggested possible. “I know it.”
Daniel swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. He wrapped his arms around both children, drawing strength from Maisie’s conviction when he had none of his own. Her certainty was like a lifeline he desperately needed to grab.
He closed his eyes and offered a silent prayer. Please let her come back.