Chapter Eight – Leo
When he’d decided to head over to Estelle’s with food last night, he never dreamed this was where it would lead.
To her bed.
Don’t forget meeting her dragon, his bear said, sounding faintly aggrieved that he hadn’t been lucky enough to meet their mate in the scales.
Now that would be something, Leo replied as he shifted slightly, careful not to wake Estelle.
She was curled against his side, her dark hair spilling across his chest, one arm draped over his torso in sleep-heavy possession. The mate bond hummed between them, stronger and steadier than before, like something forged and settled overnight.
Complete, his bear murmured contentedly. That’s what this feels like. Complete.
Leo had to agree. He’d never felt anything like this—this bone-deep certainty that he was exactly where he belonged. The world outside this bedroom suddenly seemed far away, less real than the warmth of Estelle’s breath against his skin and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
His bear stretched lazily within him. We should wake her. With kisses. Everywhere.
Leo smiled at his bear’s eagerness but didn’t move.
Instead, he took in the details of her bedroom in the soft morning light—the stack of books on the nightstand, her clothes still in her suitcase, and a framed child’s drawing on the dresser.
Small glimpses into who she was and what mattered to her.
He wanted to learn all of it, to map the shape of her life until he knew it by heart.
A soft sound from down the hall caught his attention—Adara stirring in her bedroom. His bear immediately perked up, alert and interested.
The cub is awake, his bear noted with surprising tenderness. Our cub now.
Not officially, Leo reminded him, though the thought sent a surge of protectiveness through him. But yes, in all the ways that matter.
Estelle shifted against him, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, confusion clouded her expression, then recognition dawned, followed by a soft smile that made Leo’s heart stumble.
“Morning,” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.
“Morning,” he replied, unable to keep the wonder from his voice.
She reached up to touch his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw as if making sure he was real. “You stayed.”
The simple statement held a question, and Leo caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Of course I stayed.”
She’s surprised, his bear observed with a twinge of sadness. Who left her before?
Leo pushed the thought aside, unwilling to let anything dim the glow of this moment. “I was thinking about making breakfast,” he said instead. “For you and Adara.”
Surprise flickered across Estelle’s face. “You cook too?”
“I’m a Thornberg,” he replied with a smile. “We take food seriously.”
A small voice called from down the hall. “Mama? Is it time to get up?”
Estelle’s expression softened instantly, the way it always did at the sound of her daughter’s voice. “Yes. It’s morning time,” she called back. Then, to Leo, in a lower voice, “I should go to her.”
Leo nodded, reluctantly letting her slip from his arms. He watched as she pulled on a robe, tying it securely around her waist, suddenly shy in a way she hadn’t been last night.
The contradiction charmed him—this fierce dragon shifter who would face down danger without flinching if it threatened her child, yet blushed in the pale morning light.
“I’ll start the coffee,” he offered, reaching for his jeans.
Estelle paused at the door, glancing back at him with an expression that made his chest tighten. “This is strange,” she admitted quietly.
“Good strange?” he asked, suddenly uncertain.
She nodded slowly. “Good strange. Just... new.”
Then she was gone, her footsteps light as she moved down the hall to Adara’s room. Leo heard the murmur of their voices, Adara’s excited chatter, and Estelle’s hushed responses. This was what it was like to be part of a family.
This could be every morning, his bear said wistfully. This could be our life.
Leo allowed himself to imagine it as he dressed.
Waking up with Estelle, making breakfast for her and Adara, building routines and traditions together.
Not just passion and mate-bond intensity, but the quiet, ordinary moments that made up a life.
The thought filled him with a longing so sharp it almost hurt.
In the kitchen, he found coffee and started a pot, then began exploring the groceries he’d brought the day before. By the time Estelle appeared with Adara—the little girl still in pajamas, her hair adorably mussed from sleep—Leo had eggs whisked and bread ready for French toast.
“Leo!” Adara exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “You’re still here!”
“I am,” he agreed, smiling at her enthusiasm. “I thought I’d make breakfast. Do you like French toast?”
Adara nodded vigorously, clutching Fizz to her chest. “With syrup? And berries?”
“Absolutely, with syrup and berries,” Leo confirmed, glancing at Estelle for permission.
She nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Coffee first,” she said, reaching for the mug he’d already poured for her.
The next hour passed in a bubble of domestic contentment that felt both new and oddly easy.
Adara chattered about her dragon dreams—“Fizz and me were flying over mountains with lots of snow!”—while Leo cooked and Estelle set the table.
They ate together, Adara’s legs swinging beneath her chair as she demolished her French toast with the single-minded focus of a hungry child.
See? his bear said smugly. Perfect. She already accepts us.
Leo couldn’t disagree. There was something remarkable about how easily Adara had folded him into her morning, as if she’d been expecting him all along. No wariness, no jealousy—just easy acceptance that warmed him to his core.
As he watched Estelle helping Adara wipe sticky syrup from her fingers, a realization hit him with sudden clarity: he wanted this. Not just the mate bond, not just Estelle in his bed, but this—a family, a home, the chance to protect and provide for both of them.
The thought was interrupted by the chime of his phone. Leo pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen with a frown.
“Everything okay?” Estelle asked, instantly alert.
“Just my brother,” Leo replied, scanning the message. “Reminding me about deliveries today. I’m supposed to be at the restaurant in...” He checked the time. “About an hour.”
The warm little world around them seemed to thin slightly. Reality—the world beyond this cottage, with its schedules and obligations and other people—was tapping him on the shoulder.
“You have to go,” Estelle said, not quite making it a question.
“Soon,” Leo admitted reluctantly. “But I’ll come back tonight, if that’s okay?”
Something shuttered in Estelle’s expression, a wariness creeping back in. “Leo, about that... We should talk about... expectations.”
The way she said expectations made his bear bristle with unease.
She’s pulling away again, his bear warned. Don’t let her.
But Leo knew pushing would only make her retreat further. He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Estelle turned to Adara. “Sweetie, why don’t you go get dressed? Your clothes are laid out on your bed.”
Adara looked between them, her young face surprisingly perceptive. “Is it a grown-up talk?”
“Just for a minute,” Estelle assured her with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Once Adara had disappeared upstairs, Estelle turned back to Leo, her posture noticeably more tense. “Last night was... incredible,” she began carefully.
“But?” Leo prompted when she hesitated, bracing himself.
“But I need to be careful,” she said, her voice dropping lower. “For Adara’s sake. For both our sakes.”
Leo nodded slowly. “I understand that.”
“Do you?” Her eyes searched his. “Because being with you—being your mate—it means visibility. You’re a Thornberg. Everyone in Bear Creek knows your family.”
The implication was clear, and it landed like a weight in Leo’s chest. “And you don’t want people to know about us.”
Estelle’s shoulders tensed further. “It’s not that simple. I just... I need time. Before we become... public. Before people start asking questions I can’t answer.”
Is she ashamed of us? his bear asked, hurt rippling through their shared consciousness.
No, Leo corrected at once. She’s scared. There’s a difference.
“Your family,” Estelle continued, her fingers fidgeting with her mug. “They’re everywhere in this town. The restaurant, the vineyard... If they know about me—about us—it won’t stay quiet for long.”
Leo couldn’t deny it. The Thornbergs were not known for keeping happy news to themselves. His mother alone would tell half the town within a day if she knew he’d found his mate.
“What are you asking me?” he said, though he already knew.
“I’m asking for discretion,” Estelle replied, her voice steady despite the anxiety in her eyes. “Just for now. Until I’m... until we’re ready.”
The request stung more than Leo had expected.
Finding his mate was the most significant thing that had ever happened to him.
A joy he naturally wanted to share, especially with his family.
The thought of hiding it, of pretending Estelle was only a new friend or neighbor, felt wrong on a fundamental level.
His bear growled in frustration. We shouldn’t have to hide what she is to us. What we are to each other.
But looking at Estelle—at the tension in her shoulders and the fear she was trying so hard to hide—Leo knew he had no real choice. Whatever was driving her need for privacy, it mattered enough that she’d risk hurting him to protect it.
“Okay,” he said finally. “If that’s what you need.”
Relief flooded her expression, followed quickly by guilt. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know it’s not fair to ask...”
“Hey,” Leo interrupted gently, reaching across the table to take her hand. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m not going to push you into anything you’re not ready for.”
Even if it hurts, his bear added silently.
Estelle’s fingers tightened around his. “Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s not forever. Just until...” She trailed off, unable or unwilling to define it more clearly.
Leo nodded, swallowing his disappointment. “I should probably get going,” he said, glancing at the clock. “My brother will wonder where I am.”
“What will you tell him?” Estelle asked, the anxiety returning to her voice.
Leo forced a reassuring smile. “That I was helping a new neighbor get settled. It’s not even a lie.”
She returned the smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
The distance between them had widened again, and Leo felt it like a physical ache.
This morning had given him a glimpse of what they could be together—the warmth, the ease, the sense of rightness.
Now that vision seemed to be receding, replaced by complications and constraints he hadn’t expected.
“Okay,” he said finally. “This stays between us. For now.”
Relief softened her face, though the guilt was still there underneath it. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“It’s what you need,” Leo whispered. “That’s enough for me.”
He wanted to kiss her goodbye, to hold her close and breathe in her cinnamon-dragon scent once more before facing the day.
But Adara was watching now, her gold-flecked eyes curious and observant.
So instead, he settled for a light touch on Estelle’s arm, a promise in his eyes that he would come back.
“I’ll see you both later,” he said, forcing a brightness into his voice that he didn’t quite feel.
“Bye, Leo!” Adara called, waving Fizz’s sparkly wing at him.
As Leo headed down the path, happiness no longer felt simple. He had found his mate, shared her bed, glimpsed the future he wanted—and now he had to carry all of it in silence.