Chapter 48
FORTY-EIGHT
A s they pulled into the parking area, Artair watched Thora take in the stone pathway lit with softly glowing lanterns, the sound of gentle music drifting from hidden speakers, couples strolling hand-in-hand along the lakeshore.
“This is reconnaissance?” she asked, suspicion dawning in her amber eyes.
“Yup,” he replied with practiced innocence, coming around to open her door. “The elevation provides tactical advantage.”
She accepted his hand as she stepped out, her fingers warm against his. “And the candlelit tables? The string quartet? The sign advertising ‘Lover’s Special’ as today’s feature?”
“Excellent cover,” he responded smoothly, enjoying the challenge in her eyes. “No one suspects a couple on a date of conducting surveillance.”
Her narrow-eyed stare didn’t mask the slight uptick in her heartbeat he detected. When she didn’t pull away—didn’t even truly object—his bear rumbled with satisfaction. Progress.
“Fine,” she conceded, adjusting the small purse slung over her shoulder. “But I’m ordering the most expensive thing on the menu. For tactical purposes.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
The ma?tre d’ greeted them with practiced warmth, leading them to a secluded table on the terrace overlooking the lake. Artair had specifically requested this spot for its panoramic views—and its privacy.
He held her chair, noting how the soft lighting caught the auburn highlights in her hair. She sat with careful grace, still not entirely comfortable in the dress and heels, but adapting with the same determination she showed in everything.
“This is a date disguised as reconnaissance,” she said bluntly once they were alone.
“Is it working?” he asked, dropping the pretense, heart hammering as he awaited her verdict.
Something softened in her expression. Not surrender, but a deliberate lowering of defenses. “You could have just asked me to dinner.”
“Would you have said yes?”
She considered the question, running her finger along the edge of her water glass. “Probably not.”
“Hence, reconnaissance .”
Her laugh—genuine, unguarded, perhaps the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard—made his bear want to roar with triumph.
Throughout dinner, he maintained the charade, occasionally pointing out potential surveillance points while they shared a perfectly seared ribeye and truffle potatoes. The sunset painted the lake in shades of gold and crimson, reflecting off the water’s surface like living fire.
He watched, fascinated, as Thora gradually relaxed, her wariness giving way to genuine enjoyment. She matched him story for story—her bounty hunting adventures balancing his corporate negotiations. Though different worlds, both required strategy, quick thinking, and the ability to read people.
His heart nearly stopped when she unconsciously smoothed her hair in the exact grooming pattern he’d used during her healing. She was adopting his gestures without realizing it—a significant sign of bonding among shifters.
“You keep watching me,” she noted, setting down her fork. “Do I have food on my face?”
“No,” he admitted. “I like seeing you enjoy yourself.”
Pink colored her cheeks. “This is all new to me,” she admitted. “Dating. Any of it.”
“You’re doing fine.”
“Am I?” Doubt crept into her voice. “I haven’t dated anyone in three years. My last relationship ended when I chose a bounty over his birthday dinner.”
The admission surprised him—not the choice she’d made, but her willingness to share it. “What happened to the guy?”
“No idea. I got the bounty, though.” She offered a half-smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Three thousand dollars and a broken coffee maker he threw at the wall on his way out.”
“His loss,” Artair said again, meaning it more than ever.
As night fell completely, luminescent flowers began to glow along the lakeshore—Whisper Lake’s famous botanical attraction. Their blue-white light created an ethereal atmosphere, reflecting off the water’s surface like fallen stars.
“That’s beautiful,” Thora murmured, her professional mask slipping to reveal genuine wonder. “Natural or magical?”
“Both. They’re native to this region, but enhanced by the waterfall’s magic.” He signaled for the check. “You can see them better from the shore path.”
She hesitated, and he watched the internal debate play across her features—the instinct to guard herself warring with curiosity and something deeper, more vulnerable.
“Lead the way,” she decided finally.
The lakeshore path wound through gardens of glowing flowers, their petals emitting soft blue light. Other couples strolled nearby, but the path offered pockets of privacy between illuminated stretches.
Artair found himself sharing things he rarely discussed—his doubts about leading the clan, his grief for his parents, his fear that his twin brother might truly be lost forever. He wasn’t sure why he revealed these vulnerabilities, except that something about Thora made him want to be seen as more than the perfect clan leader everyone expected.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, staring across the darkening lake. “This wasn’t meant to turn into a therapy session.”
The feeling of her hand slipping into his nearly stopped his heart. “I like knowing there’s more to you than ‘perfect clan leader,’“ she said, and his bear purred with satisfaction.
Her fingers fit perfectly between his, small but strong. He resisted the urge to tighten his grip, fearful of scaring her off with too much, too soon.