Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
T he simple touch sent warmth spreading through Thora that had nothing to do with fever or poison. His hand was rough with calluses—unexpected for a corporate CEO, evidence of physical labor she hadn’t considered. His eyes held none of the calculation or manipulation she was accustomed to seeing in men who showed interest in her.
Instead, there was only open concern, gratitude, and something deeper that made her heart race.
“I don’t know,” she admitted finally, the words barely audible. “I just... reacted.”
Something in his expression softened at her confession. His thumb traced a small circle on her cheekbone before he withdrew his hand, but the ghostly imprint of his touch lingered on her skin.
“Thank you,” he said simply.
When he unconsciously slipped into the bear grooming motion against her hair, she found herself too weak to pull away—and too honest with herself to pretend she wanted to. The gentle strokes eased something tight in her chest, her sabertooth rumbling with contentment.
“You’re doing it again,” she murmured, but made no move to stop him.
Artair’s hand stilled. “Sorry. I?—”
“It’s fine,” she interrupted, surprising herself. “Just...not in front of them.”
A smile—warm and genuine—transformed his serious face, softening the angles of his jaw, revealing a dimple in his right cheek. “Understood.”
Thora’s heart stuttered, and she blamed it entirely on the bear bane.
From the kitchen, Kalyna’s voice drifted over. “Pupil dilation now at 51 percent. We’ve hit a new record, folks.”
Thora groaned, closing her eyes. Artair’s quiet laughter rumbled beside her, his hand resuming its gentle motion in her hair. Despite herself, she leaned into his touch, her sabertooth purring with satisfaction.
The movement brought her face closer to his, close enough to see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, to catch the subtle scent of pine and honey that clung to his skin. Something shifted in his expression—a flicker of heat that made her breath catch.
For one suspended moment, Thora thought he might kiss her. For one suspended moment, she wanted him to.
The realization should have terrified her. This mysterious attraction between them had grown far beyond any magical tether. Something deeper connected them now—something her sabertooth recognized even if her human side resisted.
Bryn’s words from breakfast echoed in her mind: “Have you considered that you might deserve to be chosen anyway?”
As Artair’s fingers continued their gentle path through her hair, Thora found herself wondering for the first time what it might be like to be chosen. To be wanted not for her skills or her body, but for herself. To have someone’s eyes light up when she entered a room. To belong somewhere. To someone.
The thought was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.
“Rest,” Artair murmured, his voice a soothing rumble. “I’ll be here.”
And the most frightening part was—she believed him.
From the kitchen, Willow’s voice broke the moment. “The compress needs changing. Kalyna, bring me the yarrow infusion.”
As the women approached with fresh herbal remedies, Thora caught Kalyna’s knowing smile. The fox shifter might tease mercilessly, but her eyes held genuine warmth.
“You know,” Kalyna said conversationally as she helped Willow prepare the new compress, “the last time I saw a bear look at someone that way, there was a mating ceremony the following month.”
“Kalyna,” Willow sighed, though her eyes twinkled with amusement. “What did we say about antagonizing the patient?”
“That it improves circulation?”
“Nice try.” Willow turned to Thora. “Ignore her. She’s been trying to matchmake every unmated shifter in town since she and Rust tied the knot.”
“Someone has to,” Kalyna defended. “You young people are too slow. Do you know how many decades I waited for my mate to show up? Life’s too short—even for immortals.”
As the women bantered, Thora found herself reconsidering her hastily formed opinions of Enchanted Falls. This strange little town with its magical folk and ancient grudges also contained unexpected warmth—Bryn’s immediate acceptance, Kalyna’s teasing friendship, Willow’s gentle wisdom, Jash’s earnest enthusiasm.
And Artair... who somehow seemed to represent both the town’s formidable strength and its surprising tenderness.
For the first time in her nomadic life, Thora caught herself wondering what it might be like to stay somewhere. Not forever, perhaps, but long enough to learn the rhythm of a place. Long enough to form connections that went deeper than a temporary alliance or a transactional exchange.
Long enough to discover if what she saw in Artair’s eyes when he looked at her could be real.
The thought should have sent her running. Instead, as the healing herbs worked their magic and sleep began to claim her, Thora found herself uncharacteristically looking forward to tomorrow.