“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.
