Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
A s they ate, conversation flowed around Thora like water around a stone. Lucella shared library gossip, Kalyna commented on magical theory, and Bryn inserted colorful anecdotes about town residents. To Thora’s surprise, she found herself not minding their chatter, even contributing occasional dry observations that made the other women laugh.
“So,” Bryn said after devouring her last pancake, “when are you going to give my brother a real chance?”
Thora choked on her coffee. “Excuse me?”
“Artair. Tall, dark, and broody. Built like a mountain.” Bryn waved her fork descriptively. “The one you were magically tethered to and whose cabin you spent the night in.”
“I told you, that was?—”
“A magical mishap, yes, yes.” Bryn rolled her eyes. “But fate has a funny way of working in this town. Ask anyone.”
“Fate is a convenient explanation for coincidence,” Thora countered.
“Says the woman who tackled exactly one bear shifter in town and ended up tethered to him.” Kalyna raised an eyebrow. “Out of forty-seven possible bear shifters.”
“Statistical outlier.”
“Or destiny,” Lucella offered dreamily. “Like in the old stories where mates find each other against all odds.”
Thora set her fork down with a clink. “There are no mates. No destiny. Just a bounty I need to catch so I can leave this town.”
A silence fell over the table. Bryn studied her with unexpected perception. “You’ve never stayed anywhere long, have you?”
The question hit closer to home than Thora liked. “My job requires mobility.”
“What about relationships?” Lucella asked gently. “Anyone special waiting for you back home?”
Thora shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t do relationships.”
“Never?” Bryn looked genuinely surprised.
“Never had time. Or reason.” Thora shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Bounty hunting isn’t conducive to dinner dates and anniversary celebrations.”
“So you’ve never been in love?” Lucella’s voice held no judgment, only curiosity.
Thora stared at her half-empty coffee cup. “Hard to learn love without examples.” The words escaped before she could filter them. “Orphanage kids don’t exactly get lessons in healthy attachments.”
She immediately regretted the admission. The table fell silent, and she braced for pity—the last thing she wanted.
Instead, Bryn reached over and squeezed her hand briefly. “Their loss. You deserved better.”
The simple statement, offered without saccharine sympathy, caught Thora off guard. Before she could respond, Kalyna leaned forward.
“Listen, relationships are overrated anyway. Take it from someone who’s had over a century to observe them.” Her red fox eyes glinted with mischief. “Though I will say, if you were going to try one, you could do worse than Artair Maxen.”
“Much worse,” Lucella agreed. “He’s honorable. Old-fashioned in the good ways.”
“And let’s not forget gorgeous,” Bryn added with sisterly pride. “Those shoulders didn’t come from sitting behind a desk all day.”
“Don’t remind me,” Thora muttered, unwillingly remembering the sight of Artair’s bare chest this morning after their shifting episode.
“Oho! So you’ve seen the goods!” Kalyna’s grin turned wicked. “Do tell.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Thora protested, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. “We were partially shifted in the same room. End of story.”
“Beginning of story, more like,” Bryn corrected. “Mutual shifting is a big deal. Bears don’t shift around just anyone, especially not in sleep. Too vulnerable.”
“Neither do sabertooths,” Lucella added thoughtfully. “I read that in defensive situations, sabertooth shifters maintain consciousness through their transitions specifically to avoid vulnerability.”
Thora frowned. “How do you know I was asleep?”
“Lucky guess.” Lucella’s innocent smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Also, Bryn texted us all the details.”
“Traitor,” Thora glared at Bryn, who didn’t look remotely apologetic.
“Hey, this is the most excitement we’ve had since the vampire coven tried to start a blood bank last spring.” Bryn grinned. “Besides, if you’re going to be my sister-in-law?—”
“I am not?—”
“—I need to make sure you have proper support. Friends. Confidantes.” She gestured to the table. “Ta-da! Instant girl squad.”