Page 14 of Season's Greetings
But now?
The bond mark beneath his collarbone throbbed. Not painfully. Not deeply. Just… insistently. Like it had caught the echo of something wounded. Something missing.
A low growl bubbled up in his throat, caught between bear and man as he struggled to piece together his emotions. He was so close to having everything he’d ever wanted—a mate and a family. Yet here he was, aimlessly walking, still without a solution.
Earlier, he’d let his bear take over. Pushed to the surface, exerted dominance, and ran—his paws sinking into crisp snow. As if he could outrun his problems.
But he couldn’t.
Their bond, a constant companion, had pushed him to return.
He hadn’t let that mark surface in years. Not since the snowbound vow. Not since Matthew vanished before they couldfinish it. But it had lingered in his blood, dormant—an ember under scar tissue, buried deep.
And now, it blazed.
Pushing his body to transform, he shifted back to human form.
Staggering, he reached for a tree trunk, staring down at his chest. His skin lit—gold streaks threading like fire veins over his heart. The mark shimmered, etched in claw and vine.
“No,” he whispered to no one. “I buried this.”
But it pulsed again. Faster. Matching his heartbeat.
Deep in his heart, he knew their bond couldn’t be denied—no matter how hard he’d tried to will it away.
Then—footsteps. Familiar. Light. Resolute.
Matthew.
He stepped into the grove, coat soaked, amber eyes gleaming in the moonlight. He said nothing—but the silence hit harder than words.
Daniel’s throat worked around the growl.
“You left,” he said, voice cracked. “You tore out the truth and left me bleeding under it.”
Matthew’s eyes flicked to Daniel’s chest. The mark. Glowing.
“I didn’t know it would survive,” he whispered. “I thought we’d killed it the night we walked away.”
Daniel barked a bitter laugh. “Wewalked away? That’s not how I remember it. You don’t kill something forged in vow and blood, Matthew. You starve it. And it burns more slowly. Waiting.”
They stared at each other.
Then—Matthew reached out, pressing his palm against the mark.
It flared like dawn.
Daniel gasped—his shift clawing at his skin, his bear roaring beneath his ribs. Not for violence. For recognition.
Their bond—unfinished, half-spoken—yearned for completion.
“We should go back?”
“Back to the cabin, or to the city?” Matthew asked, his voice calm, almost teasingly.
“Both,” Daniel reasoned. “I’m going to need clothes before we head out.”
“Oh,” Matthew murmured, a blush rising to the tips of his ears as his eyes swept over Daniel’s naked body. “I think you look fine as you are.”
