Chapter Eleven – Estelle
You have to tell him, Estelle’s dragon said firmly.
Do I? Estelle wanted to tell Leo everything. But she was afraid. Afraid he would not understand.
Afraid he might reject her.
And that would tear her heart in two.
Because he’s our mate, her dragon said, and the thought of losing him was unbearable.
Exactly, Estelle replied.
But that’s the very reason we won’t lose him, her dragon insisted. He is our mate. For life. And he understands that as much as we do.
It all sounded so simple. But she had kept the truth to herself for so long that the thought of speaking it aloud made her throat tighten.
She glanced over at Adara, who had fallen asleep on Leo’s plush rug in front of the fireplace.
Snuggles had curled up beside her, the cat’s orange fur bright against Fizz’s sparkly wings still clutched in Adara’s small hands.
“She’s out,” Leo murmured, following her gaze. He had draped a soft blanket over Adara earlier, tucking it gently around her shoulders.
The tenderness of the scene made Estelle’s chest ache. This—this warmth, this safety—was what she had been fighting for. What she had been searching for.
It’s time, her dragon said, more gently now. He deserves to know what he’s stepping into with us.
Estelle nodded and took a breath. “Leo,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “There’s so much I need to tell you.”
He moved to sit beside her on the couch, close enough that she could feel his warmth but not touching her, giving her room to speak without pressure.
“I’m listening,” he said simply.
Estelle’s eyes drifted back to Adara, curled up peacefully on the rug. Where to begin? How to unravel a story so tangled with grief and fear, and love?
Start with Maris, her dragon suggested. Start with love.
“I had a friend,” Estelle said softly. “Maris. She was... she was like a sister to me. We didn’t meet until after our first shift, but we just clicked.”
Leo nodded, his eyes never leaving her face. “Maris was a dragon shifter, too?”
Estelle nodded. “Maris was everything I wasn’t. Open. Trusting. She believed in connection, in building a life beyond just surviving. She taught me so much about the world, about myself.” Estelle’s throat tightened. “Then she met Julian.”
The name still hurt to say aloud.
“They were mates,” Leo guessed quietly.
“Yes.” Estelle twisted her fingers together in her lap. “Julian’s family didn’t know about shifters. About the mating bond. They thought Maris was just... a woman their son had fallen in love with at first sight.” A sad smile touched her lips. “And she was. Just not in the ways they imagined.”
“And they had a child,” Leo said, his gaze drifting to the sleeping girl on the rug.
Estelle nodded, swallowing hard. “Maris was so happy. She’d always wanted a child, and when Adara was born—this perfect little girl with her father’s smile and her mother’s dragon spark—it felt like everything she’d dreamed of was coming true.”
Her voice faltered as the memories rushed in. Maris, radiant with joy, cradled a newborn Adara. The three of them—Maris, Julian, and Adara—were a small, happy family.
“What happened?” Leo asked gently.
Estelle closed her eyes for a moment. “There was an accident. A car crash. Maris and Julian were driving home. The roads were icy...” She shook her head. “They didn’t make it.”
Leo’s hand found hers, warm and steady, anchoring her as the grief threatened to move through her all over again.
“Adara was with me,” Estelle continued after a moment. “I was babysitting while they had a rare night out. She was only six months old.”
“And you’ve raised her since then,” Leo said, his voice thick with understanding.
“Yes.” Estelle met his eyes. “Maris named me as guardian in her will. She made me promise that if anything ever happened to her and Julian, I would take care of Adara. That I would protect her.”
Leo’s brow furrowed slightly. “And Julian’s family didn’t accept that?”
He’s put so many of the pieces together, Estelle’s dragon said.
Estelle looked down at their joined hands. “Julian’s mother, Margaret, didn’t agree with the arrangement. She believed—still believes—that Adara belongs with Julian’s family. That blood should come first.”
“But Maris made her wishes clear.”
“She did. But grief makes people cling to what they think they can still hold on to.” Estelle paused. “Margaret loved Julian deeply. And I do believe she loves Adara, in her way. That’s what makes this so hard.”
“I’m sure she does,” Leo whispered. “But grief can twist the way we see things.”
“She challenged things at first,” Estelle went on. “Not constantly. But enough. At first, it was questions about how I was raising Adara. Little things like bedtimes and mealtimes. It was as if she thought I wasn’t capable of even the basics.”
Leo nodded and squeezed her hand.
“It got to the point where I started questioning myself. So I pushed back. Set boundaries.” Estelle paused.
“That made it worse. There were letters from solicitors. Requests for visits that quickly became demands. Questions about where we were living, what school I’d eventually choose.
.. it was like she wanted every detail. Like she was trying to wear me down until I gave in and handed Adara over. ”
Leo’s expression darkened slightly. “And that’s why you left?”
Estelle shook her head. “Not at first. At first, I tried to manage it. I tried to be reasonable. I told myself Margaret was grieving, that she needed time, that maybe we could find some kind of balance.”
She drew in a slow breath.
“But it kept getting worse. I was anxious all the time,” Estelle admitted. “I told myself I was coping. That I was doing what I had to do. But I wasn’t sleeping properly. I was always waiting for the next message, the next request, the next reminder that she hadn’t accepted any of this.”
Her voice cracked.
“And then one day Adara said something.”
Leo went still beside her.
Estelle looked over at the sleeping child on the rug, her expression softening even as pain flickered through it.
“Margaret had been talking in front of her more than I realized. Adara was still little, but little children hear everything. She looked up at me one day and said, very seriously, ‘Grandma Margaret says she’ll never give up until I come home to where I belong.’”
Leo’s jaw tightened.
“And that was the moment I knew I couldn’t keep pretending it was manageable,” Estelle said quietly. “Because it wasn’t just affecting me anymore. It was starting to affect Adara, too. This sense that she was being tugged between people. That someone else was always waiting to claim her.”
She swallowed.
“And all the while, I knew what the future held. Adara may be little now, but one day she’ll shift. Not for years, but it will happen. And I couldn’t risk that future unfolding around people who wouldn’t understand what they were seeing.”
Leo’s voice was low when he spoke. “And you didn’t trust Margaret with that truth.”
“No.” Estelle’s answer came without hesitation.
“Margaret isn’t cruel. That’s not the problem.
The problem is that she would think I was unstable if I tried to explain it now, and if she ever saw the truth for herself.
..” She shook her head. “I don’t know what she’d do.
Maybe she’d panic. Maybe she’d try to explain it away.
Maybe she’d convince herself Adara needed help becoming normal.
But whatever it was, it would come from fear.
And fear would hurt Maris’s little girl. ”
Her dragon stirred, restless but quiet now.
“And so you left,” Leo said.
“Yes.” Estelle stood and crossed to where Adara slept, looking down at her small face. “Not because Margaret is evil. She isn’t. But because I couldn’t let Adara grow up in the middle of that pressure. Because as much as I hoped things might get better, I was afraid they could get worse.”
“I understand.” And she saw in his eyes that he did.
“I cannot lose her, Leo. Not to Margaret, not to the courts, not to anyone. She is everything to me.” Her voice broke. “And I promised Maris. I promised I would keep her safe. Let her grow into what she truly is.”
She drew in a shaky breath.
“That’s why I asked for discretion. Why I’ve been so careful about... us.” Estelle shook her head. “I can’t risk that kind of exposure. And I don’t want you getting drawn into this.”
“She can’t hurt me,” Leo said quietly.
“You don’t know that...” Estelle looked toward the window, toward the mountain dark beyond the glass.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said, not pushing any further. “For trusting me with your story.”
Estelle searched his face for any sign of retreat. Any sign that this was too much.
She found none.
“Aren’t you...” She hesitated. “Aren’t you going to say this is more than you bargained for? All these secrets?”
Leo’s mouth curved in a gentle smile. “Estelle,” he said, his voice warm with certainty, “I signed up for you. For both of you.”
He glanced at Adara, sleeping peacefully by the fire.
“The moment I sensed you, I knew my life had changed. Nothing you’ve told me changes that.”
He reached up slowly, giving her time to pull away, and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Fate chose you. Chose us. Dragon and all.”
Estelle’s eyes burned with unshed tears. “Even knowing being with me could make your life complicated?”
“Even knowing that,” he said, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. “You don’t have to face it alone anymore.”
The words cracked something open inside her. Tears spilled over, sliding down her cheeks as years of tension began to give way.
“I’m so tired,” she whispered. “So tired of always having to think three steps ahead.”
Leo pulled her gently against his chest, his arms wrapping around her as she leaned into him. She pressed her face into his shoulder, feeling the solid warmth of him as quiet sobs shook through her.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured against her hair. “Both of you. We’ll figure this out.”
Her dragon unfurled within her, stretching toward his warmth like a flower turning to the sun. He means it, her dragon said softly. This is real.
“I don’t know how to stop running,” she admitted against his shirt. “I’ve been doing it for so long.”
Leo’s hand moved slowly down her back. “Then don’t think past tonight,” he murmured. “You stay here. Both of you.”
Estelle pulled back slightly to look at him. “Just like that?”
“Yes.” His voice remained calm, certain. “Let me take care of you. Both of you. Even if it’s just for tonight.”
Her throat tightened.
Leo glanced toward Adara, still sleeping peacefully with Snuggles beside her. “Let me do the protecting.”
“You haven’t forgotten I’m a dragon shifter?” she asked, raising her head to look at him.
“Not for one moment,” he replied. “But even dragons need protecting sometimes. They need to know they can lie down their heads and rest without worrying about what’s out there...”
That sounds like an offer we can’t refuse, her dragon said.
It does, Estelle replied, suddenly feeling bone-tired but thankful she had finally found somewhere to rest.
Even if only for tonight.