Chapter Three – Estelle
What are we doing? Estelle asked her dragon as she stood on the porch and watched Leo.
Our mate, her dragon corrected.
Their mate, carrying in the scant remains of their belongings. Of their old life.
Because that was what it was now. Her old life. A life before she’d run. A life before Bear Creek. A life before their mate.
You’re letting someone in, her dragon replied.
And that is dangerous, Estelle retorted, but the argument sounded hollow. If fate had brought her here, if fate had brought them to him, then maybe...
She shook her head and stepped down from the porch. It was not a decision she had to make right here, right now. There would be time later to mull it over, to pull it apart and examine it from every angle.
Like you always do, her dragon said, not unkindly, though there was an edge there.
It’s how I keep us safe, Estelle said.
I know, her dragon replied, her tone softening. But safe hasn’t always meant happy.
Estelle shook her head as she approached the car.
And our mate. Her dragon certainly enjoyed using that word.
Estelle watched him lift the last box from her trunk—the one containing Adara’s winter clothes—and felt something inside her shift.
With each trip between car and cottage, each careful placing of their belongings, Leo moved with a natural ease that made her throat tighten.
His presence seemed to fill spaces she had not realized were empty.
The hollowness she always carried low in her belly felt... smaller. As if part of her had begun to mend.
“I think that’s everything,” he said, closing the trunk with a gentle thump.
“Thank you.” The words felt inadequate. How did you thank someone for making you feel less alone when you had spent years turning that loneliness into a shield?
A shield Adara had already badly dented. But what she felt for Adara was different. It was the fierce, primal bond of protecting a child. What she felt for Leo was...
Scary, her dragon interjected.
Yes, so damn scary. Because the mate bond demanded she tear down those walls and let him in. And she was not ready for that kind of vulnerability.
She did not know if she ever would be.
We will, her dragon assured her.
Estelle glanced at Leo as they walked side by side toward the house, a taut silence stretching between them.
There was so much to say, but it was as if neither of them had the words.
She, because she was afraid of where those words might take them.
He, she sensed, because he was not sure whether those words would push her further away.
Her heart ached for him. She wanted to reach out and tell him it would be fine, that she just needed time. But the words stayed lodged inside her.
Inside, Adara’s excited chatter drifted down from upstairs, where she was arranging her treasures on the window seat.
“She’s settling in quickly,” Leo observed, and some of the strain eased.
“She adapts well.” Too well, sometimes. Estelle worried about what that meant. Should a child so young be so used to making each new place home, however temporary?
Leo stopped and turned to face her. “Where would you like this one?”
“Upstairs with the others, please.” Estelle pointed toward the staircase, avoiding eye contact, afraid he might somehow read her face and see the truth she was trying so hard to hide.
“Sure.” He turned and headed for the stairs, and she hesitated, gathering herself before she followed him up.
In Adara’s room, the little girl had created an elaborate arrangement of her few toys and books. She looked up as they entered, beaming with pride.
“Look, Mama! Fizz has a special place now.” She pointed to the stuffed dragon perched regally on the window seat, overlooking a line of carefully positioned pebbles and pinecones she must have collected from outside.
“It’s perfect,” Estelle said, smiling at the simple joy on her daughter’s face.
Leo set down the box and crouched beside Adara. “Those are excellent treasures you’ve found.”
“I know,” Adara said solemnly. “Fizz says this is a good dragon nest.”
Estelle froze, her eyes darting to Leo’s face. But he only nodded seriously, as if discussing dragon nests with four-year-olds was perfectly ordinary.
“Dragons know a good nest when they see one,” he agreed.
Adara giggled, then frowned at a loose floorboard near her new collection. She poked at it with one small finger. “This is wiggly.”
Leo examined the board. “So it is. Might be a hazard for little feet.” He looked up at Estelle. “I could fix that for you. I’ll check if there are any tools out in the shed.”
Before Estelle could answer, Adara clapped her hands. “Yes, please! Then Fizz won’t trip.”
And just like that, their quiet unpacking became something else—something dangerously close to domestic.
Leo disappeared briefly to check the shed in the backyard, returning with a toolbox.
He kneeled on the floor, carefully removing the loose board while Adara watched in fascination.
Estelle found herself leaning against the doorframe, watching his large hands work with surprising care.
“Do you want to help me?” he asked Adara, who nodded eagerly.
Together they bent over the board, Adara mirroring Leo’s movements as he rummaged in the toolbox like a small, devoted shadow. Estelle closed her eyes and listened to Leo’s deep voice as he explained the difference between the tools, and to Adara’s stream of questions.
Tears pricked her eyes, and she slipped away as quietly as she could.
Needing to keep busy, she decided to unpack her own things in the adjacent bedroom. From the small duffel that held her personal items, she pulled out clothes, a few toiletries, and a worn paperback. At the bottom of the bag lay a small wooden box, plain and unassuming.
Estelle’s fingers trembled as she lifted it. Inside was a silver pendant—a dragon curled protectively around a pearl. “Maris,” she whispered, holding the pendant to her chest as she stared out at the mountains. “You would love it here.”
A floorboard creaked behind her. Estelle whirled, heart hammering, instinctively shoving the pendant back into the box and covering it with clothes.
Leo stood in the doorway, concern etched on his face. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” she said too quickly, her voice higher than normal. “Just... organizing.”
His eyes flickered briefly to where her hands had hidden the box, then back to her face. He did not ask, nor did not pry. But she felt exposed all the same, as if he could see straight through her carefully built defenses.
“Adara’s satisfied with my work,” he said after a moment. “She’s very particular for someone so young.”
“She likes things to be exact.” Estelle’s voice steadied as she spoke about her daughter. “Always has.”
Leo nodded, then hesitated. “Listen, I know this is probably not what you want to hear right now, but...”
“Please don’t.” Estelle held up a hand, suddenly terrified of what he might say. Of how much she might want to hear it. “I can’t... We can’t... It’s not...”
The understanding in his eyes was almost worse than if he had argued. “Okay,” he said simply.
But it was not okay. Nothing about this situation was okay. She had come to Bear Creek to disappear, not to find... whatever this was. Whatever he was.
Our mate. Our destiny. Her dragon’s words were so achingly true they tore at her.
But the pendant hidden in the box seemed to burn through the clothes covering it, a reminder of everything she stood to lose if she let her guard down.
This was exactly how mistakes happened.
One kind man. One moment of weakness.
And suddenly someone knew too much.
“I appreciate your help today,” she said, the formal words creating distance. “But Adara and I need privacy. We need to keep to ourselves.”
Leo’s expression did not change, but something in his posture shifted, a subtle drawing back that made her dragon keen in protest.
“Of course,” he said. “I understand boundaries.”
“No questions,” she added, needing to make it clear. “It’s safer that way.”
Safer for whom? her dragon demanded. For us, or for him?
“Safer,” Leo repeated without questioning further.
“I know you probably want to tell the world... about us...” She shook her head. “But I need you to promise me that you won’t.”
Leo held her gaze. “I won’t tell anyone until you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” Estelle wrapped her arms around herself, already regretting the walls she had just reinforced. But what choice did she have? She could not risk Adara’s safety, not even for the comfort of this connection that hummed between them like electricity.
“There you are,” Adara said as she came into the room. “Are you helping Mama unpack?”
Leo straightened and looked at Estelle before turning to Adara. “I think your mama has it covered, and I should get going. Let you two get settled.”
Adara’s face fell. “But you just got here.”
“Leo has his own home to go to, sweetheart,” Estelle explained, ignoring the twist in her chest.
“Will you come back?” Adara asked him, clutching Fizz tighter.
Leo glanced at Estelle, his expression carefully neutral. “That’s up to your mom.”
The weight of his gaze, the choice he was placing in her hands—it was too much. Too soon. Too everything.
“We’ll see,” Estelle managed, the non-answer the best she could offer.
It seemed to be enough for Leo. He nodded once, then crouched to say goodbye to Adara. “Take care of Fizz, okay? And that window seat looks like an excellent reading spot.”
“It is,” Adara agreed seriously. “Thank you for fixing the floor.”
“Anytime,” Leo said, and the simple word held a promise that made Estelle’s heart race.
She walked him to the door, hyperaware of his presence beside her, of the scent of cedar and earth that clung to him. On the porch, he turned to face her.
“I meant what I said,” he told her quietly. “No pressure. No expectations.”
Estelle nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“But,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, “I’m here. When you’re ready. If you’re ready.”
With that, he walked down the porch steps and strode to his truck. Estelle stood frozen, watching him go. The distance between them grew with each step he took, and something inside her stretched painfully, like a cord pulled too tight.
Go after him, her dragon urged. At least say something.
But what could she say? That his presence made her feel safe in a way she had not in years? That she wanted nothing more than to lean into that safety, that strength? That would be admitting weakness, creating vulnerability where she could not afford any.
So she watched in silence as Leo strode down the drive, taking with him the warmth that had briefly filled their new house. The trees swallowed him as he stepped off the drive, but then she felt it—the subtle change in the air as he shifted.
She kept her senses fixed on him as he ran, getting farther and farther away.
I miss him, she thought with surprise. How can I miss someone I just met?
Because he’s ours, her dragon replied simply. And we’re his.
Estelle closed the door firmly on that dangerous thought and turned back to the house, which suddenly felt much emptier than it had before Leo Thornberg walked into their lives.