Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
T he implications chilled Artair. Someone was systematically targeting his clan’s heritage—his responsibility, his family legacy.
“I need to go after him,” Thora stated, already shifting into hunter mode. Her posture straightened, her movements becoming precise and calculated.
“Not alone,” Artair countered firmly, his bear’s protective instincts surging forward. “This is bear clan business now.”
They locked eyes, that familiar spark of electricity crackling between them despite the tether’s absence. His bear recognized her as territory to protect, even as his human side acknowledged her as an equal partner in this hunt.
“I work alone,” she insisted, but he caught uncertainty flickering in her amber gaze.
“Not this time,” he responded, drawing himself to his full height. “My territory, my rules.”
Frustration crossed her face, along with something else—a grudging recognition of his authority in clan matters. Before she could respond, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
“Good morning, sunshines! I brought coffee and—” Bryn’s cheerful voice preceded her into the room. She stopped short at the threshold, taking in the tableau. A knowing grin spread across her face. “Oh my. Interrupted something, did I?”
“The tether finally broke,” Thora explained hastily.
“Mm-hmm.” Bryn’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she set down a tray of coffee mugs. “Nothing to do with the magical cuddle session that had you two shifting in your sleep?”
Heat crept up Artair’s neck. “How did you?—”
“Grandma Eira texted me. Said she ‘sensed significant shifter magic’ from your cabin around dawn.” Bryn wiggled her eyebrows. “She’s already ordering specialized honey for the mating ceremony.”
“There is no mating ceremony,” Thora growled, snatching a coffee mug from the tray. “We’re hunting my bounty, who happens to be stealing bear clan artifacts.”
“Ooh, crime-fighting power couple,” Bryn teased, utterly unintimidated by Thora’s glare. “Even better.”
“Bryn,” Artair warned, though he couldn’t help a small smile at his sister’s antics. Her lighthearted teasing cut through the tension like nothing else could.
“Fine, fine.” Bryn raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’ll stop... for now.” She perched on the edge of the bed, blowing steam from her own coffee. “So, what was stolen this time?”
As Jash explained about the archive break-in, Artair observed Thora from the corner of his eye. She cradled her coffee mug in both hands, inhaling the steam with obvious appreciation. Her shoulders had relaxed slightly, and she’d positioned herself closer to the group than necessary, given the tether’s absence.
A small detail, but it spoke volumes. Despite her insistence on independence, she’d unconsciously chosen proximity over distance. The realization sent a pulse of satisfaction through him.
When he caught Bryn watching him watch Thora, he quickly redirected his attention to the stolen codex. “We need to recover it quickly. The Ursine Codex contains protective spells that could be dangerous in the wrong hands.”
Thora set her mug down. “I’m familiar with Blackwater’s patterns. He usually sells to the highest bidder within forty-eight hours of acquisition.”
“So we have less than two days,” Artair concluded. “Where would he go to make contact with potential buyers?”
A calculating look entered Thora’s eyes. “Specialized markets. Places that deal in magical contraband.”
“The Shadow Bazaar,” Jash suggested, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It operates on the new moon—which happens to be in a few days.”
Artair nodded. “That fits. We just need to find out where it’s being held.”
“I’ve busted smuggling rings at that market before,” Thora said.
“No one would expect the CEO of Maxen Enterprises at an underground magical black market,” Artair replied.
Thora crossed her arms. “You’d stick out like a sore thumb. Those places can spot outsiders instantly.”
“Not if I have the right guide.” He held her gaze steadily. “Someone who knows the terrain.”
She narrowed her eyes, considering. “You’re proposing a partnership.”
“A temporary alliance,” he clarified, sensing her wariness. “Your bounty hunting expertise, my knowledge of what he’s stealing. We both get what we want.”