Daniel glanced around the empty street, then headed toward the edge of town where the forest began. The snow-covered pines stood silent as he made his way deeper into the woods. When he was certain he was alone, Daniel let go of the world.
The air around him popped and crackled as he disappeared, to be replaced a second later by a bear.
The bear raised his head and sniffed the air, tasting the scents of the forest around him. Then he shook his coat and loped off deeper into the forest. He moved through the trees without a sound, his paws leaving temporary impressions in the snow. By dawn, the tracks he left behind would vanish, erased by the night’s snowfall as if he’d never passed through at all.
For nearly thirty minutes, Daniel let his bear roam, careful to keep to the lower slopes and avoid areas where hikers might venture, even in winter. The bear sniffed at interesting scents, rubbed his back against a particularly satisfying pine trunk, and generally reveled in the simple joy of being.
With each step, the day’s tension melted away. Leaving behind the stress of staffing shortages and delayed orders. Daniel’s bear lived in the moment—the crisp air, the quiet forest, and the knowledge that their home and family awaited.
As they neared home, Daniel shifted back to his human form and made his way along quiet streets to his house. The tension that had driven him to shift had eased, replaced by a bone-deep weariness that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. His bear was content, and Daniel had to admit, the run had done him good.
He turned his key in the lock and pushed open the door to an explosion of color and light. Paper snowflakes hung from the ceiling, swaying gently in the draft from the door. Multicolored paper chains draped across doorways and wrapped around banisters. Twinkling lights—where had those even come from?—were strung along the walls, casting a warm, festive glow throughout the entryway.
Before Daniel could process the transformation, a small missile in dinosaur pajamas launched itself at his legs.
“DON’T LOOK YET!” Teddy shouted, wrapping his arms around Daniel’s thighs and nearly toppling him.
“Teddy!” Maisie’s exasperated voice came from somewhere in the living room. “You’re supposed to wait!”
Daniel chuckled, the sound rusty after his long day. He scooped Teddy up, settling him on his hip with practiced ease. “What’s going on, buddy?”
“It’s a surprise!” Teddy stage-whispered, his eyes wide with barely contained excitement. “But you can’t look until we say.”
“I promise not to peek,” Daniel said solemnly, closing his eyes for good measure.
But his other senses locked onto his mate. Holly. She was near. Getting closer. The urge to open his eyes and look at her was overwhelming. But he kept them squeezed shut.
“Welcome home,” she said, her voice close. “Rough day?”
Even with his eyes closed, Daniel could picture her perfectly. And the scent of her. It made his mouth water.
But there were other scents too. Food. His stomach rumbled in appreciation.
“You have no idea,” he replied, still fighting the urge to open his eyes, to drink in the sight of her. “But it’s already getting better.”
“Good,” Holly said, and he felt her hand on his arm, guiding him forward. “Because we have something for you.”
Daniel allowed himself to be led, Teddy still perched on his hip, chattering excitedly about how they’d been “working super hard” and how it was “going to be the best surprise ever.”
“Okay, you can look now!” Maisie’s voice came from directly in front of him.
Daniel opened his eyes, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. The living room had been completely transformed. His sofa was buried beneath every blanket and pillow in the house, arranged into what could only be described as a nest. Candles flickered on the mantelpiece, and his favorite slippers—the ones with the ridiculous bear faces that the kids had given him last Christmas—sat waiting at the edge of the blanket pile.
Above it all hung a banner, clearly made by small hands, that read “DAD RELAX ZONE” in wobbly, colorful letters.
“Do you like it?” Maisie asked, uncertainty creeping into her voice at his silence.
Daniel set Teddy down and kneeled to eye level with his daughter. “Like it? Maisie, I love it.” His voice cracked slightly on the last word.
Maisie’s face broke into a wide smile. “It was Holly’s idea, but we helped with everything. I made the banner, and Teddy made all the paper chains.”
“By myself!” Teddy added proudly, bouncing on his toes.
Daniel looked up at Holly, who stood slightly apart, watching the scene with a shy smile. “You did all this?”
She shrugged, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “It was my suggestion, but the kids filled in the details. I just provided some long arms. And cooking help.”
“What is that?” Daniel sucked in a deep breath. The aroma filling the house was unlike anything he’d ever smelled.
